Lean On Me
by monkeygirl77
Summary: Featuring the guest stars from Living Among Giants. The Virtues, Principalities, Grigori, and Powers were all affected by the war. Everyone was torn apart by the war. War leaves nothing but ash and destruction. Now it's time to pick up the pieces. To rebuild from the ashes.
1. The Mindbreakers Apprentice

**AN: So, I've decided to do a side series of all our favorite guest stars from Living Among Giants. So we can get to know them too!**

They knew each other.

Why else would they being avoided one another so blatantly, ignoring one another to the point that it was obvious to anyone who saw it, that they knew each other. No one was sure how they did, where they had met outside of these protective walls, away from the careful gazes of those who could quell any misgiving and anger that might be had.

No one know of their lives before the here and now. Everyone was very tightlipped about their experiences in the war that had torn their family apart piece by piece.

He watched over everyone in his Infirmary, he did not pry into their history, only seeking the information he needed so that he may place them in the correct position.

Orion had stuck out in her class, so studious and observant, a quiet one at the back of the crowd that surprised them all with what knowledge she retained. There were times he was sure she was not paying attention to what he was teaching, reading a book she carried in her arms, or watching the seasoned healers bustle around to tend to their patients, and being one to never pass over an opportunity such as that, he'd call her out and he was always astounded when she repeated his lesson back to him. Word for word. As if she was reading it from a book, one that she was silently reading in her arms, hidden by the bodies in front her. She was never the first one to volunteer for one on one training, so quiet in her ways, she surprised them with all she knew.

His Virtues had nothing but praise when she was partnered with one of them for shadowing.

There were things she struggled with, of course, given her age and lack of actual hands on training, but she far surpassed those in her class.

She had started coming out to them, showing them the side of herself that she didn't typically allow others to witness, and then Gzel started appearing with Akriel.

Both girls stared at each other, their eyes averting when their contact was spotted, turning away from each other to keep it from happening again. When Gzel and Akriel came over to the section Orion was tending to, she would go around to the one they left, and Gzel would switch sides next to Akriel when Orion walked passed them.

Raphael hummed to himself as he watched them stare at each other again, a conversation passing between them that they were not privy to, and quickly averting when they noticed Akriel looking between them. His trauma specialist watched the quite little healer for a moment, before turning to his charge, whispering something down to her in inquiry. Gzel shook her head though, looking down at her feet, refusing to speak on the matter that had them all in concern.

Nodding his head, the Healer raised his hand, and all eyes turned to look at him silently. He gestured to his Captain, his gaze traveling to each one of his Virtues, and they nodded in turn as they set aside what they were in the midst of doing and made their way through the crowd for his office.

Enough was enough.

She knew he was coming, having averted her eyes when their gazes met, her shoulder was tense under his hand as he curled his fingers around it, leaning forward slightly. "Orion, can we have a word with you?"

The healer nodded, setting her pitcher of cool water down on the nearest table, curling her fingers together as she met back at his side, letting him guide her across the threshold of the Infirmary to his office just off the side.

His Virtues all stood around, a semi-circle behind the chairs at the front of his desk, where he guided his young pupil to sit. Gzel leaned against Akriel's side, his arm curled lightly around her shoulders, dangling down her left side. Orion peeked over her shoulder at her, as the Healer stepped around to sit behind his desk, the wooden chair creaking as he sat and leaned back. He observed their connection, as Gzel's eyes met hers, the silent communications going on between them, and his Virtues looked between them in confusion and concern.

Akriel frowned lightly, tugging his charge closer for a moment, breaking their connection. "Gzel?"

She turned to look up at him, emotions cleared from her expression, completely neutral. "Sorry. I'm okay."

Raphael hummed, having yet to determine if that statement be true, and looked between them. "You two know each other." He wasn't asking a question.

Orion looked back to her lap, her lips in a thin line, as she held them closed so tightly. She shook her head lightly, as though trying to dispute his statement, and he hummed thoughtfully. He fell under the assumption that he would get no words out of her, not unless prompted, and instead turned to Gzel.

"Gzel." The unstable little angel looked up at him, curling the fingers of her right hand around the fingers of Akriel's left, still dangling freely down her side. "You know Orion."

They all turned to their young companion for her response. Gzel stared at him, in similar fashion she stared at Orion, and gave a brief nod of affirmation. "I know Orion."

They stared at her in wonder for a moment, and turned back to their commander, his eyes were watching his young student carefully. "How do you know Orion?"

"She's just like me."

Raphael spared her a confused glance, perhaps concerned too, it was an odd admission. "How so?"

"Orion's one of the modified angels." Gzel looked up at Akriel and he smiled. "Just like me." She turned to look at the one in question. "Orion was next to me."

His Virtues gazed at their young student sadly, perhaps this was one of the reasons they didn't ask too much on their history, somethings were better left unspoken. But, leaving things to fester caused infection to set in, and being the Healer that he was, Raphael did not allow things to fester.

"Orion?" His tone was so gentle, so kind, so warming, that she couldn't help but look up at him. "You were one of those who were modified by Naomi?"

She nodded silently, as though it was shameful, and looked back to her hands in her lap.

"Gzel," he watched his young student with sorrow and concern. "What was Orion's modification?"

"Memories."

Akriel looked down at her again, horror in his eyes, as it dawned on him what she meant by her one word answer. The others looked between their young companion to the young student in shock, as though they had a hard time believing it to be true, but not doubting that it was something their sister would force another to do. "Gzel, what do you mean by that?"

The unstable angel looked up at him. "She controls memories. That's why she knows so much. She can remember everything. Naomi taught Orion what Naomi knew."

"I don't use it though." She finally piped up, her voice small, if not a bit broken. She was very good at hiding it. "I don't want to be a mindbreaker. I don't…." Orion looked up at him, her eyes wide, fearful that he would be displeased. He only watched her thoughtfully. It made sense now how she retained everything he said even when she was distracted. Quite the multitasker. "The voices….Sometimes the voices tell me to…But I don't listen to them. I want to help people. I want to heal people. I want to be a healer." She nodded as she looked over her shoulder, as though expecting the Virtues behind her to jump forward, as though expecting to be punished for what she knew. "I want to be a healer. I promise. I'm not a mindbreaker."

They watched the young girl closely, Oren crossed his arms lightly, eyebrows scrunched together. Of all the things they had suspected, they had not thought of this being their history together, of this being the way they knew each other.

Raphael hummed thoughtfully, leaning over to the side, curling his fingers around his chin as he rested on his hand. "Orion, did you know that I only taught two," he held up two fingers. "Two, the fine art of altering the memory." She shakes her head, spinning around to stare at him again, curiosity joining the fear in her eyes. "Naomi, as I'm sure you know, was one of them." He nodded, a slight frown marring his features at her name. He waved slightly to the one behind her with his free hand, Gzel rested against his side, and he smiled at her when their eyes met. "Akriel, as I'm sure you're wondering, was the second one. As was needed for being my mental trauma specialist."

Orion breathed in and out quickly in a single breath. "What does that…... What does that have to do with me?" He knew what she feared, and he hoped to set her at ease.

The archangel hummed thoughtfully again, giving her a gentle smile to ease her nerves, the tension only fell away just slightly. "I don't disagree with having two healers who know that art. I've always wanted to have two, too much on ones own shoulders can become overwhelming, that's why I always choose two for a specific craft in the field of healing." He nodded back to his Virtue. "You will fall under Akriel. You only know the ways to cause harm with that special knowledge you wield. He will show you the ways to bring peace with it." He glanced back at his specialist. "So long as you don't mind, of course, Akriel?"

The trauma specialist smiles, looking down to her when she turns to peer at him fro over her shoulder cautiously, shaking his head. "Not in the slightest."

"You will continue to grow those skills, then." Raphael smiled at her again, leaning forward on his desk, crossing his hands together. "Under the right sort of mentor. I have no doubt you will use that gift to help as many wounded souls as you can."

"So..." Orion seemed to be having a hard time wrapping her mind around the acceptance. "So…. You're _not _going to banish me from your flock?"

The others looked surprised at her question, even their archangel seemed shocked by it, and he shook his head quickly. "Heavens _no_, is that what you thought, you've done _nothing_ for me to take such drastic action."

"You're not…. You're not going to have them take me away?"

"Is that why you keep looking at them with such fear?" Raphael shakes his head in assurance, his Virtues inhaling at the notion that someone thought they'd be so cruel, they were gentle souls. Unless you gave them a reason to be angry with you, anyway. "They'd be more likely to smother you in a warm embrace then take you away from here." He looked up at them teasingly. "Father knows how they can be." They snort in amusement but make no notion to dispute it.

They would and everyone knows it.

"It is concerning, though, that you hear voices." He leans forward. "How long have you heard them?"

"Since…Since _then_."

The Healer nods in understanding, nothing more needs said on it, they all understand. "Akriel will help you with that as well. He will take good care of you." Orion glances back at him and he nods in assurance. "He will help you learn more on that skill you were taught. Only use it while he is there to supervise, though, alright?"

Orion nods, a tension falling away as large as a tidal wave washing away from the shore, and she slumps forward in relief, collapsing forward to hide her face in her hands.

Raphael watches her for a moment, and nods again, standing from his chair. "You've never truly met him before." He gestured with his hand and the others filed out, to return to what they had been doing when called into this meeting, Akriel whispered something down to Gzel and she nodded, taking Oren's hand as they walked out together. "Why don't you take some time to get acquainted with him."

His Virtue smiles at him as he crosses in front of him, taking a seat in the chair next to the young angel, placing his hand on her back lightly. The archangel nods, knowing that she is in good hands, and leaves them, closing the door behind him.

Orion looks up after a moment, at the hand rubbing at her back, turning to meet the hazel-green gaze. "Hello, I'm Akriel."

She gives him a small smile. "I'm Orion."


	2. Oren

He stayed with Ephraim long enough to see his eyes flutter closed of remain, his chest rising and falling softly with gentle snores, and he sighed, leaning forward to run his fingers through his sleeping Virtues hair. His hair was still damp from his bathing, cooling now that he lay out in the open, out of the warm water.

Stroking through his sleeping healer's hair, his eyes lifted, seeking out the one he sought after next. This particular meeting had to be handled with a certain amount of care, it was a touchy situation, for one to loose themselves so drastically as to take their own life.

Turning back to the one whose hair he stroked his fingers through, he smiled lightly, even though he could not see it. "Sleep well, Eph."

Standing from the side of his bed, he spared him one final glace, and when he was sure he would not awaken, he parted from his side for the time being.

His next query stood just a few beds away, leaning against a desk, distracted by the files he was reading through. He came to stand before him, gently pushing the files down, to gain his attention.

"Oren, may I have a word with you?"

His Captain bows his head in shame, nodding his assent, and he gestures for him to follow as he guides him to his office. Oren sits at his desk without prompting, head bowed away from his imploring gaze, wringing his fingers together. The archangel watches his Captain carefully as he crossed behind him, squeezing at his shoulder as he passes beside him, coming to sit behind his desk once more. Crossing his arms, he leaned forward against his desk, studying his shaken Captain for a silent moment.

"I'm sorry." He blurts it out, as though it was an inner battle to keep the words within his chest, and it surprises him slightly. Raphael tilts his head. "What for?"

"I—I abandoned my brothers…." Oren licks his lips nervously. "I was a _coward_. I should be ashamed. I abandoned those that needed me. I let _you _down." He nods as though to assure himself and his archangel. "You should be _ashamed _of me."

"I am far from ashamed of you, Oren."

"But you _should _be." He squeezes his hand, fingers curled tightly, shaking his head softly. "I was….I was…"

"Talk to me, Ori." He reaches a hand out, nodding pointedly to his Captain's, and Oren lays a shaking hand over his. "Talk to me." Nimble fingers curl over the Virtue's hand.

It's a precarious situation they're in. He's clearly still haunted by the cause of his action, it clearly still crosses his mind, but now there is shame. He's ashamed of himself, ashamed of what he did, even though there is no blame placed on him for what edge he was brought to by outside forces. He feels as though there is blame that should be placed on him, that he had abandoned his duties, his purpose, and his brothers. That he has let his archangel down, a spite in the face of what he stands for, he ruined something so wholesome.

A very precarious situation, indeed.

Oren stares at him for a moment, as though the words just won't come forward, and swallows deeply. "I _couldn't_ take it anymore." He nods, as though agreeing with his own admission. "I _couldn't _take it."

"Couldn't take what?" He rubs his thumb over the back of his Virtue's hand, squeezing just enough with his other fingers to offer gentle reassurance, this is Oren's time now, his time to vent, to get whatever ailments he carried around with him off of his shoulders, he was merely hear to offer a listening ear, a shoulder if he should need one, and reassurance where it was needed. "Tell me what it is, Ori."

He closes his eyes, as though in the notion that if he doesn't see him sitting there that he is not admitting his faults to anyone, as if that was a shameful deed to be done.

"_Everything _was broken. There was so much _death_. I couldn't….I couldn't _do_ it anymore." He shakes his head slightly. "Everyone looked to us for stability, something that we couldn't give, despite how much we tried to." He heaves a breath. "My friends, my _dearest _friends, they were evolving into something they shouldn't have been. Zaves was taken to the Prison and there was nothing that I could do. Everyone was disappearing. _You _were gone."

"I was."

"With _you _gone, everyone turned to _us, _we could never replace _you_." Oren finally opens his eyes, their so pained, it echoes from deep within him and shines through his eyes. "People would come and ask for you. Seeking you out. And we had to explain every time. It was something we could never move on from. They'd ask questions we didn't have the answers to."

He can see the hurt that lies just beneath the skin, it curls around him like a blanket, it's eating away at his heart. His poor Captain is so broken.

"Then…As if it wasn't bad enough that we lost so many in the _war_…Castiel comes. He orders us to follow him. A faction, a single faction, stood opposed to him as ruler and he destroyed them." He clenches his other hand into a fist. "He ordered us to follow him, he was our new commander, he was _replacing _you. And once again, under his ill-fated attempt at control, the others turned to us."

Oren shakes his head. Silence overcoming him.

The Healer squeezes his hand. "What happened then, Ori?"

"I just…._How _could they expect us to help them?" He waves his free hand in the air to extenuate the question. "_We _were just as broken as everyone else. But _we_ couldn't dwell in it. We couldn't mourn our losses. We had to take care of the others, listen to them weep at their loss, listen to their worries and troubles. There was so much _pain _and _sorrow _and we had to take on _everyone _else's on top of ours and I…..I…I _lost _it. I—I…"

"You finally cracked."

Oren nods, pulling his hand back, out of his grasp, and buried his face in his hands. His shoulders quake silently, as they come to the catalyst, they both know what happened next. He was the epitome of someone who had carried the weight of the world on their shoulders and no one could help alleviate it. His Captain had a big heart, always looking to put others needs before his own, and this time it had come back at him with full force.

"We were falling apart at the seams." He waits patiently for his Virtue to continue, he's like a river once a dam is removed from the equation, everything was flowing at it's own will now. "Constantine was pulling away from us. Disappearing to Father knows where for hours at a time. Zed was falling into himself, working nonstop, always at his station or tending to someone. Keeping his hands busy. Akriel stopped talking to us. He just…..He had nothing to say….So he didn't say anything. Ephraim…Poor Ephraim….He was in so much pain…But he never mentioned it. We had to take care of everyone else."

"But, there was no one there to take care of you."

Oren breaths in deeply, a shaky inhale of breath, and he peers at him from over his fingers. "I tried, I _tried_, I swear I did. I wanted to make you proud. Keep your legacy going. Continue what you had built." He looks so worn still, so tired, and it breaks his heart. "I worked hard. I made sure that Zed's inventory never ran dry, I continued his work when he'd pass out, I'd drag him to a bed when he collapsed." He falls silent a moment. "I urged Constantine to talk to me. I _knew _something was wrong. I begged him to talk to me. We'd talk late into the night. I talked him out of it. So _many _times." He takes a deep breath. "I urged Akriel to talk to me. I begged him. We'd talk late into the night. About anything and everything. I begged him to talk to me. I _begged _him." He buries himself back into his hands again, his fingers clutching at his hair, his words muffled slightly. "Ephraim…I tried to shelter him from it.. I know how it all affected him. I'd distract him and comfort him. I tried to keep him from it all." He exhales deeply, a deep sigh, it's a agonized sigh. "And then….Then I just couldn't do it anymore. I was just so _tired._ I just wanted…I just wanted a moment of _peace._"

"You were so focused on holding everyone else together, you yourself fell apart."

"I let you down." He inhales a shaky breath. "After all that, I let you down."

"No, Ori," he stands from his chair, stepping out from around his desk, and kneels beside him. Gently, all things must be done in a gentle fashion for the time to come, he reaches up to pull his hands away from hiding his face, hiding his eyes. "Ori, you could _never _let me down. _Never_. You tried so hard, _so _hard, to keep everyone together, to keep them from falling apart, you ran yourself into the ground for their sake. That is _not _something that I would _ever _look down upon."

His Virtue inhales a shaky breath, as though trying in a near vain attempt to keep the tears dwelling right under the surface from falling, and he squeezes his hands tightly, pulling them up against his chest.

"Ori, you took care of everyone so well for so long, ignoring your own needs in favor of theirs, I could not be more _proud_." Raphael raises one of his hands, pressing his lips to the back of the Virtues shaking hand, their eyes locked together. "I'm going to take care of you now, Ori, it is time for you to be taken care of in the same manner you cared for everyone else."

Oren nods, his breath hitching, a tear escaping from the corner of his eye. They let it fall, like a small raindrop down a panel of glass, and it drips down from his cheek.

"First, I am going to be pulling you from your duties, you will rest. You will get _lots_ of rest. We will talk often, about anything you desire, I will be an ear there to listen to you vent your troubles whether they be good or bad."

He tilts his head, his chin dipping slightly, as he folds the hand back against his chest.

"I trust you know why I am also going to have to take your blades from you?"

Oren nods shakily. And he breaths a sigh of comfort.

"We'll get you better, Ori, I'm going to take care of you now."

He stands from where he kneels, pulling his Captain to his feet with him, and he tugs him forward into an embrace. Oren folds around him, clutching tightly to the back of his tunic, pressing himself deep into his shoulder, as the tears begin to fall and he cannot seem to close the dam on them again. Raphael hums, rubbing one hand over his back as he cradles the back of his head with the other, letting his poor broken Virtue sob his woes away into his shoulder.

It takes some time for him to calm down again, and he pulls him back slightly, caressing his cheek softly with his right hand. He rubs over his cheek with his thumb. "Let's go find you a bed, my little Ori."


	3. How to Tame a Virtue

He sighs as he spots his apothecary working at a steady pace at his workstation, bending and cutting and mixing and pouring, his apothecary whom he had told to return to his room for rest some time ago. Zed didn't notice his scrutinizing audience, too engrossed in his doings, his job required apt attention and he never faltered.

Stepping forward silently, he crossed between and behind his healers, as he came to stand in his desired position behind his Virtue. Crossing his arms over his chest, he heaves a sigh. "Zed, I told you to retire for the night."

"I'm almost done."

"It's amusing to me," He leans forward slightly. "That you think I was giving you an option."

"I'm fine. Let me just finish."

"Zad, I'm telling you, as an order, to retire for the night."

His apothecary waves a hand at him. "I will. When I'm done."

Rolling his eyes, the Healer sighs, and rolls up his sleeves. Cracking his fingers, he steps forward, if his apothecary wants to be stubborn then he will be harder to ignore. Zed doesn't see him coming, too engrossed in his work before him, and for that he's appreciative. His Virtue does however feel it when he digs his fingers deeply into his lower sides, squeezing in deep, kneading his way from his hips up to his lower ribcage. The reaction is immediate, he arches his back, arms raising slightly in surprise, the empty vials falling from his hands as he reaches down for the hands attacking him.

"Waitwaitwait!" Zed shrieks at once, bending over on himself, and his archangel follows. He's well versed in torturing his poor Virtues, he's had practice, lots and lots of practice. "I'll go! I'll go!"

"No, no, you had your chance." He pinches at his hips, digging his thumbs into the curve of the bone, Zed shrieks trying to shimmy away from him, but he holds on securely to his victim. "You wanted to finish so badly, then finish, put those vials away."

The apothecary barely manages to reach up for his vials when the fingers run up his sides again, and he arches once more, dropping the vials again in surprise of the action.

"I can't!"

"Oh," he smiles in amusement. "And why can't you?"

"Every time I lift my arms you make your attack!"

"Well, you don't have to, for me to _'make my attack'_." He digs in again and Zed yells in surprise once more. "I can do it any time I desire it." He chuckles as his Virtue barks a laugh and finds himself unable to stop. "Do you regret not listening to me, now?" Zed nods as he laughs and laughs, under the Healer's skillful fingers, curling his arms around himself to try and put a stop to his playful torture. "Go on, put your vials away." He shakes his head and the Healer smiles. "Put them away, Zed."

The Virtue nods, biting back his laughter, as he picks the vials on his table back up and reaches upwards to set them on their shelf. As he reaches, the hand lets go of his right side, and ten fingers skitter up his left. He yelps, drawing his hands back, leaning away from him, curling to the side, laughter exploding from him when the hands jump to his other side. "Put them away, Zed, put them where they belong." The fingers spider across his lower back, he arches away from them, and skitter back up his left side again. "Clean up your workstation." He forces the vials down, laughing brightly at the playful torment he faces, and reaches back down for his fingers. "Are you going to head on to the Loft and go to sleep, just as I told you to?"

Zed nods, his fingers curled around his Archangels. "Yes! Yes!"

"Good angel." He gives one final well meant squeeze and lets him go. "Now, off with you."

…

He took good care of his Virtues, their care and wellbeing was in his hands and he took very good care of them, their relationship was one he cherished. So, when Oren had come to him complaining about his feet aching, he took hold of the issue immediately, dismissing himself from the Infirmary floor and escorting his Captain back up to the Loft above them.

Where they sat together in the pillow filled lounge, his Captain laying across one of the cushioned benches, his feet resting in his lap as he massages the ache away. Oren sighs deeply, in comfort, as he works his 'magic', as they call it.

"I haven't had you in this position for some time."

Oren knows his Archangel very well. He glances up at him from under his arms. "Don't."

"I didn't insinuate anything, I was merely stating a fact, it's just been some time."

"I know what you're thinking." He glares at him a moment longer before laying back down. "Don't."

"I don't understand where you get the notion that you can order _me _to do _anything_." He curls his fingers around his ankle. "You are _my _Captain, and I your _Commander_, if anyone here gives the orders, it is me."

"Is it, though?"

"Let's test that theory, shall we?" The archangel strokes a finger down the sole of his right foot, and he jolts slightly, kicking at his hand, glaring at him from under his arm when he chuckles at the reaction. "Order me to stop and see if I listen."

Oren jolts slightly when he scratches at the ball of his foot, and he can see the uplift of a smile peeking out at him from under his Captain's arm, he chuckles slightly and strokes his finger back down the sole. "Come, order me to do your bidding."

"Stohop!"

"I don't think so." Raphael shakes his head, poking at his toes lightly, and smiles in amusement when his Captain shrieks softly, yanking at his foot, only to find it trapped under his tortures. "I can't take your orders seriously if you're going to _giggle_."

"I'm nohohohot gihiggling!"

"You're not, are you sure, I could swear you were."

Oren kicks at him with his free foot. "Yohohour gohohoing senile!"

"You were always so cheeky." He turns to look at him, an eyebrow raised. "Did you just call me old?"

It's like his mighty Captain is a small fledgling again, giggling still, even though he's halted his torment. He smiles adoringly, shaking his head, when his grown charge tests his luck in nodding his head.

"I thought you did."

He lifts his leg slightly, straightening it out, and reaches forward to wiggle fingers under his knee. The Virtue Captain snorts, pulling at his leg, and throws his head back in laughter. He knows all the right buttons to push for him to get the best sorts of responses. He knows how to bring even the mightiest of the archangels to his knees, though only uses that knowledge on special occasions, Michael takes his revenge very seriously, and very much to heart.

…

The Healer catches him off guard, on more then once occurrence, when he seems to be too caught up in the atmospheric pressure in the Infirmary, emotions blending into one, overwhelming him.

He pokes him swiftly in the belly as they pass each other.

He continues on, but smiles knowingly, as the Virtue jumps and spins around, hands pressed to his belly protectively.

He pokes him swiftly in the belly when he comes to stand at his side as he instructs the new learners under their guidance.

Ephraim watches for him carefully for a while, it brings him great amusement, guarding himself whenever he walks passed. It brings him pause for a bit, waiting for him to grow complacent again, before beginning anew.

He finds his opening soon enough, as the unsuspecting Virtue reaches up to place a pile of folded cleaned tunics in the cupboard, he comes in swiftly behind him and reaches around to poke him in the belly. Ephraim yelps brightly, throwing his arms up in surprise, the tunics going flying up, falling over the floor in a heap.

"Hello, Eph." Raphael comes in behind him, curling his arms around his waist, pulling him back into his chest. His Virtue falls still, looking up at him. "Hello."

"I've decided that you need a good laugh." He smiles. "Something to brighten your mood."

"I don't. But thanks for the concern."

He chuckles lowly, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. "I'd disagree. And who could argue that knowledge with _me_?"

His fingers curl into his belly dangerously, and Ephraim looks down at them cautiously, squirming slightly in his hold. "I would try."

The fingers dig in and he doubles over at the sudden assault. "You'd lose."

…

He manages to get Constantine and Akriel at the same time, coming to stand between them as they guide their new class, and curls his arms around their middles.

There's no introduction, no warning of the attack to come, he only smiles at his new student learners.

And digs into their ribs at the same time.


	4. Mama Bear

**AN: I know I already posted this chapter elsewhere, but its hard enough to keep up with everything else im working on, so I'm going to make this the sequal to Living Among Giants too.**

"Get out of the way, you brats."

Sasha was the one who heard him, he looked over to the other as he entered the Armory with his sword resting against his shoulder, he then looked to the two little ones standing in the doorway, their eyes slowly filling with tears at the rough treatment, little hands having been pulled apart as the older being marched right between them, and then he looked to his friend, she was distracted with tightening the leather strings closed on her top.

"They're always in the way, like little brats are wont to be." He saw his friend grow rigid, her fingers stilling as she listened. "I don't know why the Captain lets them in here."

Sasha backs up a step when his friend's head whips around, braids flying around with the motion, eyes smoldering with the rage of a mother who knows it's her children who's being insulted. "Did you just call my kids __'brats'__?"

Samael turns, sneering at her from over his shoulder. "They shouldn't be here, and you __know __it. They're insolent little brats, always getting in the way, always underfoot." He smirks arrogantly. "Just like their __mother__. You should be a __messenger __or a __healer, __like all __girls __are." He sneers again. "Being a warrior is a man's place."

Akeelah glares at him, slowly lowering her arms. "My kids are __angels__."

"Your kids are __abominations__."

"How __dare __you!"

Sasha knew there was no stopping his friend, and there was a part of him that wanted to see him get his ass handed to him by a __'female'__, he had insulted his niece and nephew in the worst possible way, he'd made them cry, he deserved every well placed blow he'd receive by their enraged mother. He knew there was no stopping her, not as she stalked forward quickly, the fingers of her right hand curling up tightly, as she pulled her fist back, and punched him so hard in the face that his head snapped back and he stumbled over his feet, tumbling over a rack of bow staffs.

He jogged quickly from his place next to his cupboard, kneeling down in the doorway for the twins, reaching out for their hands. "Let's go get Uncle Nis."

Lyra and Izar nodded, tears leaking from their eyes, like little stars falling from the darkened night sky, taking his hands with little fingers.

The male trainee turned to watch his friend over his shoulder, holding Samael by the collar, raining her fist down again and again. There was a sick satisfaction he felt at his struggling to get out of her enraged grasp, calling his beloved niece and nephew an abomination, it made his blood boil in his own rage.

He nodded, pulling the twins around gently, and walked them down the hall to their Captain's office. Nisroc had said he wasn't to be disturbed, but his friend was likely to beat Samael to unconsciousness, and he'd insulted the twins incredibly so. Their Captain always put their little niece and nephew first, they had him wrapped around their little fingers, which was part of the reason why he had consented on allowing them to stay in the barrack with their mom.

They stopped outside the office door, the tears having passed, the twins rubbed at their eyes and under their noses with their little hands. They let go of his hands in favor of holding each other's, sniffling pitifully in unison, rubbing at their little eyes with their little fists.

He sighed deeply and raised his own fist, knocking on the dark wooden door with his knuckles, waiting for the reply from within.

__"Not right now."__

"Nis." He rapped on the door again. "It's important."

There was the faint sounds of a sigh from within, behind the door between them, and the creaking of a wooden chair on wheels as someone stood up from it. The one behind the door crossed the threshold of the office, and the door was opened slowly, his guardian leaned against the doorframe. "Yes, Sasha?"

All he had to do was gesture down to the two fledglings at his side, and his guardian frowned, kneeling in front of the pair of them. The gentle Power reached out for them, caressing one of their cheeks each, rubbing his thumbs over the tracks left by tears. "What happened, little stars?"

They both shook their heads, sniffling again, and he opened his arms for them to run into. Curling an arm under each little bottom, he stood with them curled against his sides, sniffling into his shoulders. Nisroc looked to his youngest charge in question. "What happened?"

"Samael."

He felt as though it was enough said, Samael was always causing trouble, always trying to show that he was the best out of them all, always trying to pretend that he was the leader of their squadron, and always trying to get under Akeelah's skin.

Well, he'd managed it.

"Did he harm them?"

"Nothing more than their feelings."

Little Izar sniffled, looking up to his Uncle. "Uncle Nis," the Power looked down at him. "What's a abomomation?"

Nisroc frowned deeply. "Where did you hear that word, little Iz?"

"The big meanie said that's what we are."

Lyra looked up at him. "He pushed us."

He frowned, pulling them closer, and turned to look over at his youngest charge. "Take me to them."

Sasha nodded once and turned on his heel, leading him down the hall back in the direction of the Armory, they separated for them at the sight of their Captain being there. Akeelah had finished her tirade, brushing her hands on her maroon under tunic, and looked over at them at their entrance.

"Momma!" Both twins reached out for and she obliged, ignoring her enemy in favor of comforting her two babies, she stepped up to stand before the tall Captain, taking her two children from his arms. "Momma's here babies." They curled around her, she rubbed her nose against her daughter, and then did the same with her son, and they both returned the gesture, a small smile crossing their features. "Let's go play in the Garden."

"Okay momma."

"Like playin' with you momma."

Little Ly looked up at her. "Get peaches, momma?"

Nisroc smiled slightly in amusement.

Akeelah smiled at her baby girl, kissing her cheek lightly, as they stepped around the Captain. "Of course, baby, we wouldn't ever go see Joshua and play in the Garden without getting peaches."

Once they were out of earshot, he turned around once more, looking down to the bleeding and bruised trainee below him. Something harsher had come over him, his eyes portrayed the slow simmering anger he felt, and he crossed his arms tightly.

"Samael, my office." He jerked his chin towards the hall. "__Now__."


	5. Consequences of Striking a healer

"What's going on, here?"

The Infirmary is not blind to its scuffles that break out among it's patients, emotions are high, pain is mixed in, being surrounded by those watching your movements would make anyone stand on edge for even the slightest of things. They are always watching diligently for scuffles that do break out, to keep their patients safe from harm and to keep their fellow healers safe from harm, and when they catch sight of a scuffle, they are quick in joining it to bring about peace once more.

So, when he spots on out of the corner of his eye, he's quick is softly dismissing himself from his class to investigate.

There's a burnt hand, that's what he zones in on first, a hand burnt crisp waving around in the air in the patients irritation.

Poor Inca, looking so out of his element, as he's just trying to disinfect the burn and bind it in bandages.

"Zaveriel."

Wild eyes turn to him, and they shrink back, averting quickly at the expression they lay witness to in his gaze.

"Hi, Akriel."

"Hello," he reaches for his hand. "May I see this?"

Zaves nods, looking down to his feet, and lowers his burnt hand down for his older brother to tenderly examine his wound.

"Were you playing with the holy fire, again?"

He nods silently, hissing when he presses a finger lightly to one of the blisters that litter his hand, Zaveriel doesn't like making Akriel upset at him. Akriel's like Raph, he's strict when it comes to certain things and doesn't take others disrespecting the healers under his command, and he'll tan you if he catches you doing so.

"You're going to sit down, still yourself, and let Inca tend to your hand." Akriel looks down to his younger brother. "Aren't you, Zaveriel?"

He nods meekly, chancing a glance up at him, and nods again at the look he gazes into. It's the look that promises repercussions if he doesn't settle down and allow Inca to work. It's the look he gets before Akriel takes him by the arm, turns him around, and tans his hide. If he doesn't do as he's told.

"Yes."

His older brother reaches up and pats his cheek tenderly. "Good boy." He looks over his shoulder to Inca. "If he gives you any more trouble, just call for me," he looks back to the baby Virtue. "But that won't happen, will it, Zaveriel?"

"No."

Zaves doesn't like that look and refuses to look up until his brother squeezes his arm, and leaves them in favor of returning to his class.

It isn't long until his attention is called back to the pair.

Akriel turns to look at the sound of their struggle and heaves a large sigh, gesturing for his class to follow from over his shoulder, to return to their sides once more. He catches Zaveriel by the back of his tunic, the collar, much like a feline catches a kitten by the scruff of its neck and pulls him away. Inca looks up at him. "I will tend to him, Inca, you go take a moment to regroup and return to another patient." His healer nods in appreciation, turning to walk off, Akriel turns to look down at his younger brother, whom he has '_by the scruff of his neck'_. "Hello, again, Zaveriel."

"I'm sorry!" He blurts out quickly. "It just hurt!"

"You struck my healer."

"I didn't mean to!"

"I don't care very much whether you meant to or not." He pulls him closer. "You _struck _him."

The older Virtue turns him none to gently to the bed he stands before. "_Sit_." Zaveriel falls backward to sit on the bed silently, watching with wide attentive eyes as his older brother sits in the chair Inca had abandoned, reaching out silently for his hand. He's not as gentle as Inca had been trying to be as he washes his hand clean and binds it in a bandage, leaving his appendage disinfected and aching, and Akriel gives him a long silent, hard look.

He stands from his seat. "Stand up."

"Ak, no, no, I'm sorry!"

"I'm going to let you keep your trousers on, but if you want to fight me, we can remove them."

"No! No! I don't want to fight! I don't want to lose my trousers!"

The specialist twitches his finger slightly. "Then _stand_." Zaveriel stands quickly, standing before his older brother and his class behind him, the embarrassment about what's about to happen is outweighed by the notion of _what's _about to happen. Akriel turns his finger slightly. "Turn." He sniffles softly, as he turns slowly, flinching at the hand that curls around his upper arm. "Now explain to me, what happens to those who strike _my_ healers?"


	6. Finding Home

"Are you sure we're allowed up here?"

Orion had never seen what was above the Infirmary, and the dorms built into the side wings for the healers, everyone knew that the Virtues resided above, it was common knowledge, but she had never seen it with her own eyes. Gzel very obviously had, she knew her way around, munching on an apple as she led her down the hall passed the Virtues bedrooms.

The one they entered had two beds, one made up and the other messy, it had two wardrobes, a desk covered in an assortment of books, a glowering pile of embers in the fireplace along the far wall. A meek room full of memories.

"Where are we?"

She stood in the doorway as Gzel stepped into the room, collapsing backwards on the end of the made up bed, her arms spread wide. "Akriel's room."

Orion looked around nervously, curling her fingers together as she looked around for any possibility that they would be spotted in the Virtues private quarters, and looked back to her companion quietly. "We should go."

"Why?" Gzel's eyes turned down to her. "I like being in Akriel's room."

"We don't belong here."

Hands curled over her shoulders. "You're always welcome here." She turned, startled at being caught, and he smiled in greeting. "Akriel!" He squeezed her shoulders. "Gzel stays with me. You're just as welcome as she is." He moved her slightly, so he could step around her, going for the pile of books on his desk. Undoubtedly for one of his students below them, she watched him timidly as he sifted through the volumes, searching out the one he had come for. He hummed when he found it, lifting it up to examine for a moment, and curled it against his side as he turned around again. "Gzel, why do you insist on laying a top my blankets."

"Because mine are all wrinkly and bunched up."

"Maybe," he leaned over to poke her nose. "If you made your bed, it wouldn't be all _'wrinkly and bunched up'_." Her face scrunched up lightly. "Your bed is comfier then mine is."

Akriel smiled in amusement. "They're made of the same material."

"Still better."

He shakes his head fondly. "Whatever you say." He smiles at her once he turns away from Gzel. "Make yourself at home." The specialist points at a basket hidden behind the pile of books. "There's a bowl of fruits on the desk if you're looking for a snack." She nods silently, watching him smile and step forward, rubbing her arm as he passes by her again, and seems to have another thought strike him as he makes his exit.

Akriel turns, leaning against the doorframe of his room, looking between the both of them. "I have a few more hours with my class left, but after that, why don't we go down to the Market and find a few things?"

Orion looks to Gzel silently, waiting for her response, and confusion comes over her when she doesn't say anything. There's a feeling that comes over her as she turns to look back at the Virtue, he's looking at her intently, and Gzel heaves a sigh. "I already got my stuff." She looks up at her. "He's talking to you, Orion."

She turns quickly, her eyes wide in surprise, looking to the older one behind her when realization overcomes her. He smiles in amusement to her confusion, nodding in affirmation, when she presses a hand to her chest as if to say _'Who? Me?'_.

"Yes, you, I've only ever seen you wear two dresses. Gzel didn't come with much either. We can go look for some things."

"I—I—Why?"

He nodded to the second wardrobe. "Because we need to have things to fill up your side, of course."

"My…My side?"

"We'll have to get more pillows too." He rubs at his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe another blanket. Do you get cold at night?"

"Y—Yes?"

"Okay, no worries, we'll get another blanket as well."

Orion looks between them both, caught so far out of her element, she's on the verge of unraveling. "B—But…._Why_?"

"Ak, you really aren't good at these things."

He glares playfully at the other from over her shoulder. "I thought I was doing fine."

Gzel finally sits up, running her fingers through her thick wavy locks, and she shakes her head. "You're not. She's so confused." Orion nods between them, wanting somebody to explain to her, tell her what was going on. She was going to lose her mind. And she's already lost it once. It's not pleasant. Gzel comes to her aid, though. "He's saying that because you're going to stay with us now."

"S—Stay?"

"Yea, like, live with us. We're going to share the second wardrobe and the other bed."

She whips around, the Virtue is smiling at her, and nods in confirmation. "It's true. I mean, obviously, so long as you want to." He nods slightly. "I'd still get you new things even if you said 'no'. You deserve to have things you like."

"You—You want me to _stay _with you?"

Akriel nods softly. "I would love you to stay with us, but, I don't want to force you if _you _don't want to."

No ones ever offered for her to stay before, not even the ones in her dorm, they acted like she didn't exist. Now, there was something who wanted her, wanted her to be with them, wanted to know her. And it was a _Virtue _none the less. She was a nobody, the Mindbreakers Apprentice, is what they whispered behind her back.

"You…You want me to stay?"

He tilts his head slightly. "Of course, I care about you, why wouldn't I?" She nods, seemingly a bit overwhelmed, and he straightens out and opens his arms. "Do you need a hug?" Orion nods again, stepping forward a step, and then another, slowly closing the gap between them. Until she is pressed against his chest and his arms are closing around her, the book rubbing against his back, as he swallows her in his embrace. "I want to…I want to stay with you..but….you don't mind…"

"That you were taught something that be used for such good by someone so bad?" He kisses the top of her head lightly. "Not in the slightest. _She _was my _sister_. If just knowing her makes you guilty, then I'm just as wrong as you are."

Orion shakes her head against his chest. "You're not wrong. You're good. You're so nice."

"I try to be."

She licks her lips, listening to his heart beat, knowing that he wouldn't let her go until she wanted him to. Even if it meant keeping his class waiting down in the Infirmary.

"I—I'd like to go to the Market with you."

"Alright, great." He kisses her head again. "I'll come get you when I'm done and we'll go." He looks over at Gzel and winks. "You guys can hang out up here until then, if you'd like."

Orion pulls back slightly, looking up at him nervously. "The others….They won't mind?"

"They don't mind at all, our home is your home, when Raphael placed you under my charge, he made me your guardian. My room is just as much your room too. My home is your home."

"Thank you." She gives him a small true smile. They're working on it. He'd managed a small giggle the other day. Little triumphs at a time.

"Always."


	7. A Bonding Moment

Orion watched them from the other bed, curled up into herself, staying as silent as a church mouse as to not interrupt their moment. They were close, that much was obvious, a relationship had formed between them that she hadn't seen before, or at least, from what she could remember. Her thumb rubbed gently over her arm, curled up in the fetal position, chin resting on her arms, she watched them enjoy each other's presence.

Akriel was leaning back against the headboard of his bed, ankles crossed, a book held open with one hand. He'd read them numerous times, and loved rereading them time and time again, he learned something new every pass through. Gzel was laying next to him, stretched out on her back, her right arm curled over his stomach in her spread out position. They were talking between each other, playful banter at play, and every so often he would reach down and poke her in the stomach. She'd bark a laugh and jolt slightly, as though wanting to curl her arms around herself, but refraining from doing so.

She curled up tighter, part of her wanted to join in, join in on whatever it was they were doing, but she knew her place. Gzel was the first one, she was the focal point, she had been here first. Akriel only invited her in because he felt obligated to, because the Healer had placed her under his care, he was just being nice to her because he was a nice person. Orion sighed softly, like a gentle nearly inaudible breeze flutter through the open space and curled her arms tighter around her knees as she pressed her face into the dark hole that was created, hiding away from them both, always stuck in her own little world. An outcast among her own kind, because the Mindbreaker had chosen her for the task of being her protégé, she didn't think she did anything wrong, but Orion was being punished for something. That's why no one wanted to be too close.

Orion heard the book close softly, a gentle thump, and he whispered something down to Gzel. There was no verbal reply, but the bed creaked under her as she moved, and the door clicked as she shut it behind her. Peeking up an over her arms, she tilted her head in confusion, jumping slightly when a hand pressed against her shoulder. Turning to look, there was only one person it could be, and she gazed upon Akriel's gentle smile. She liked his smile, she liked it when he smiled, it was so kind, so gentle, so full of love. There was no malice, no hatred, no ill intent. Just warmth and love.

"Where'd Gzel go?"

He shrugged his left shoulder. "I asked her to give us some time alone." He inclined his head slightly. "I _believe _she may have gone to bug Oren. He'll handle it just fine." He winks at her. "He's had practice."

"Why….Why'd you tell her to go?"

"Because, I could see that you needed me." His hand climbs from her shoulder to her cheek, it's a gentle caress. "I'm a very observant kind of angel. It's what makes me so very good at what I do." He rubs his thumb over her cheek lightly and she leans into the touch involuntarily. It brings a smile to his face. "Tell me what I can do to make you feel better?"

"I—I'm just fine."

She didn't believe the words, and her eyes shot down of their own will, averting their gaze from his. If she couldn't believe her own words, she had no expectation that he would.

His thumb strokes over her cheek again. "I don't have to know as much as I do, to know that's not the truth, it's okay not to be okay."

Orion swallows, nodding slightly to the gentle reprimand, there's no anger behind it, but she knows that he doesn't like it when people lie to him. "You really like Gzel."

He nods, raising an eyebrow slightly. "I do. She's a very good angel. She has her up's and down's, but everyone does, she calls herself a _'work in progress'_. I know her quite well."

"Do you…" She scratches at her knee lightly, averting her eyes again, not wanting to see his reaction lest it be a bad one. "Do you like _me_ too?"

There is no hesitation. "I do." She looks back up quickly, he's smiling at her, and he rubs her cheek again. "I wouldn't have asked you to stay with me if I didn't like you. Is that what's wrong?" He tilts his head forward slightly, catching her gaze again. "You think I don't like you?"

She nods, and feels shame burn her cheeks, she knows they must had turned red because he chuckles softly. But he lets her collect her thoughts, lets her put them into words, to explain herself and her thinking. "I just…I...You and her get along really well….and you're really close and you make her laugh which is really hard to do and…and she trusts you when she doesn't trust anyone and you talk every day and you know what she wants before she says she wants it and you..you….."

"Hey, hey," he curls his fingers under her chin lightly, lifting her head, so that their eyes can meet again. "Hey, calm down, I think that is the most I've ever heard you say in one sentence before. That's great!" His fingers travel back to her cheek, wrapping around to just behind her ear. "I only know her so well because she's opened up to me. We weren't always so close. She used to only come see me when she wanted to talk. It took us some time to get where we are now." Akriel smiles softly, stroking a loose stand of hair back behind her ear, rubbing his thumb over her cheek again. "I want to get to know _you _just as well as I know _her_. I just don't want to push you too hard, too fast, I know how harmful that can be. I want you to come to me because you feel comfortable doing so, I don't want to force you, and I'm always here to talk to. _Always_." He leans forward, as if to accentuate his words. "Anytime you need to. You just have to ask."

Orion smiled softly, a small smile, but something much more open then the ones she gave before. Those were reserved, as though she was just smiling so she wasn't the only one who wasn't, to keep everyone appeased. But, this one was real, she meant this one, it was all for her. Akriel liked her too. He wanted to know her, too. She could talk to him, too. He cared, that's why he took her in, because he wanted to, and he liked her. Just like he liked Gzel. He saw _her_. Akriel saw _Orion_. Not the Mindbreakers unwilling Apprentice. "I'd like to talk to you, too."

"Okay, I'd love for you to talk to me, when do you want to talk?"

She nods. "Every day."

He nods to her request. "We can do that. How about every day just after midday rest?"

She nods, again, and he nods in return. "Okay, we can start tomorrow, does that sound like a plan?"

"It sounds like a plan."

"Good, I'm looking forward to it." He lets go of her cheek, smiling as she slowly uncurls from her tight position, and he leans back on his hands. "What else is on your mind?"

"Why does Gzel laugh when you poke her?"

He raises an eyebrow in amusement to her question. "Why?" He tilts his head. "Because her belly is ticklish. It gets her every time."

"What's that?" She tilts her head in curiosity. He leans forward, eyebrows scrunching up. "What's what?"

"Ticklish?"

"You don't know what….My sister really did a number on you, didn't she?"

Orion doesn't seem phased by his statement, it's true, there was much she couldn't remember from before. It was all just too blurry, too fuzzy, and it hurt to try and focus on it too much. So, might as well make new memories now, to make up for the ones she lost.

He leans forward, arms resting on his knees. "Do you want me to show you?" She nods innocently enough, curiosity peaked, and he smiles at the childlike innocence that shines from the angel that is so typically so reserved. "Okay, I'll show you, lay back for me." She does as he asks, uncurling from her position completely, laying on her back, she watches him with wide innocent eyes. He shakes his head in amusement, Akriel turns in his position on the edge of the bed, turning to sit at her side instead. His hand is a warm heavy weight on her stomach as he lays it to rest there. "Tell me to stop when you want me to, alright?" She nods, her curiosity as peaked as a fledgling's, staring between him and his hand.

He digs his fingers in so suddenly that is catches her off guard, vibrating and wiggling into her stomach, and she arches, an involuntary response, laughter exploding from her in surprise. Her hands fly up to his, she's a small angel, her hands are so small compared to his, and she curls her fingers around his. He pauses, smiling down at her, his eyes shine with amusement. "Do you want me to stop?" She's breathless at the peace, residual giggles echoing after her laughter diminishes, and she shakes her head, still clutching at his fingers. The Virtue chuckles softly. "Okay." And digs back in, this time his hand moves, in a circular motion, sliding down to her sides, gliding over her lower belly, up to just brush against her lowest ribs. And she shrieks brightly, Orion throws her head back, laughing brightly into the silent room. "This is so cute. Your belly is almost as ticklish as Gzel's is. She hates it when I do _this_." Her guardian lifts her tunic up with his hands, hers having curled back into the blankets, and buries his face into her shaking belly. Orion arches her back again, her laughter rising in pitch and quantity, squealing brightly at the feeling of his beard rubbing against her bare belly, and her hands fly up again, curling into his hair when he inhales and blows deeply into her lower belly.

The Virtue pulls back, her fingers still tangled in his hair, chuckling at her giggles. "Do you want me to stop?" This time she nods her head and he nods in return, leaning forward to kiss her belly, and pull her tunic back down. He reaches back for her hands, carefully untangling them from his hair, and presses a kiss to her palms as he folds their hands together. "Do you know what ticklish is now?"

She nods and he chuckles softly, folding her hands up against his chest. "What do you think?"

Orion smiles, bigger then before, a bit more open then she was previously. "It feels _weird_."

"Bad?"

She shakes her head. "Not bad….exhilarating…it was…fun."

"I'm glad you had fun." He reaches forward to poke her nose playfully. "You deserve to have some fun." And then to brush her hair back behind her ear. "Well, I for one am going to return to my book, and you're welcome to join me."

Akriel smiles at her and climbs off their bed, crossing the short aisle back to his own, settling back in his previous position. This time, Orion does move forward, climbing off her bed and over to climb up onto the Virtue's bed. Akriel lifts his arm for her, and she scoots in close to his side, stiff at first, but melts against him, resting her head on his chest. His fingers rub lightly over her arm, and she sighs, closing her eyes lightly, listening to his heart beat against her ear. It's hard for her to believe that he's the Mindbreaker's brother, she's just so...so.…and he's so nice, they're nothing alike.

He's playful and nice and caring. And she, she's taciturn and mean and heartless.

"Go to sleep, Rio."

She opens her eyes, half-lidded. "I'm not in my bed."

"I'll move you before I turn in, you can sleep here, it's alright." He rubs a soothing circle against her arm with his thumb. "You're comfortable where you are. It's okay if you fall asleep."

"Okay."


	8. Do Not Touch

It had started as a normal day in the Infirmary, they'd had their talk after midday rest, and had separated to tend to their individual duties, with no worries on the wind.

And then something shifted.

Ephraim noticed it first, looking up from the chart he was reading, and around the room to see what the cause for the disturbance was. He folded the file closed and stepped forward, searching out the source, something was different. Something had shifted around them and he couldn't quite place his finger on it.

He comes to the closest one he can, nudging Akriel's arm with his elbow, his brother falls silent and looks down at him at his interruption. "Yes, Eph?"

"Somethings off."

His brother turns more fully towards him. "Something's off?"

"Something's changed. I can _feel _it."

"Like, feel it, like empath feel it?"

The younger Virtue nods. "The atmosphere has shifted some. It's unsteady. On edge?"

"We'll look into it." Akriel nods, waving his dismissal to his class, and they dissipate away from them to follow their assigned healer for shadowing. He gestures for his younger brother to lead them, and Ephraim nods, leading them through the rows and rows of beds, shaking his head in confusion, he can feel it, it's strong in this particular area of the Infirmary. Most of their healers are immune to the feeling, the Healer teaches them all that particular skill, there is a number of empaths that reside within these walls, some taught and some natural. "Can you sense where it's coming from?"

He shakes his head. "It's around here. But I can't…There's not one focal point….It's..It's all over the place."

"You had the same condition when you first came into yours, could it be someone's empathy coming in?"

Ephraim shakes his head. "No, that's different, I know what that feels like. This..This is _different_."

"Different, _how_?"

"I've never felt something like this before."

He nods in understanding, tiling his chin downward. "Do you think it could start affecting others?"

"I do," Ephraim nods. "I think it could."

That's what he was afraid of. The trauma specialist nodded faintly, looking around them, searching for anything that stood out of place. Nothing caught his eye, and he sighed, shaking his head.

"There's too many people here. The source could be coming from anywhere."

"You know," his younger brother pokes him slightly. "I've always had a hard time reading that charge of yours."

That catches his attention, and Akriel turns quickly, he can't help but be a bit defensive of his girls. "Which one?"

"Orion."

His eyes narrow dangerously. "What _about_ her?" He rolls his shoulders, turning to stand over his younger brother, Ephraim takes a cautious step back from him.

"Nothing bad." He holds his hands up placatingly. "I just can't read her emotions. She's…She's closed herself off from everyone. The only time she lets anyone in is when you're with her, she feels safe around you, she lets her guard down."

Akriel looks him off defensively. "You _think _she could be causing this change you feel?"

"We don't really know what she's capable of, she never really uses her grace, and keeps to herself when she's not by your side."

He hated to admit it, not wanting to think badly about his charge, but Orion was a mystery to them. They'd never personally seen her use her grace before, preferring to do things by hand, keeping to her own when working on the floor. He looked around for her, they had parted ways some time ago, and he hadn't seen her since. He sought her out, if only to prove to his brother that she wasn't causing this change in the Infirmary's atmosphere, affecting those the change was beginning to affect.

Akriel spotted her a few paces away, standing at the bedside of an angel, and for a moment he interpreted her stare as something of merely focusing on a wound that was being bound by bandages, until he stepped back a step for a better angle, and saw no movement in her hands.

She was frozen in place, staring down at the angel before her in the bed, his fingers curled around her arm, staring right back into her eyes. It was as if he was being entranced, an unblinking stare between them, as though there was a connection between them that none else could see.

"I hate to say it." The angel sitting before her flinched, his fingers twitching, and her gaze intensified. "But I think you might be right."

They slowly made their way through the crowd of healers walking about and working, watching carefully as the shorter angel slowly came to loom over the larger, he cowered away from her, and she followed his every movement with an intensity unseen before.

"I've never seen anything like this before, Akriel, this is…I don't know what this is."

"I have." There had only been one other who had the same intensity, the same ability, and her grace had been bound and she'd been cast from their Home, to live eternally in a life cycle on Earth while retaining all her memories of the Home that was lost to her. She had known of her abilities, and had used them on others, abusing them in the worst of ways. For Orion, it seemed to be a defense mechanism, something had startled her.

He had his brother wait for him, before he too stepped in, with a gentle gesture with his hand. He stepped closer, hands held up placatingly, calling out to her softly. "Orion? Orion can you hear me?" She made no gesture of acknowledgement, staring straight ahead, and the angel under her whimpered softly. He stepped in closer. "Rio?"

That snapped her from the trance, her mind was ringing, and her eyes burned as she blinked them rapidly. There was only one person who called her that, who called her _'Rio', _and she shook her head to clear the jumbled mess that had overcome it. The angel under her whimpered and curled into himself, and she looked down to him in confusion, eyes widening in surprise at the sight of him. Everything had faded away, her mind had gone completely blank, when she saw _him_.

"Rio, can you hear me?"

Orion knew that voice, knew the only one that called her that, and she turned her head slowly to look at him. She gave a slight nod.

Akriel was standing there, Ephraim was behind him, looking between her and the patient on the bed. "Rio, what happened?"

"I….He….He was there." She turned to look back down at the whimpering angel, locking gazes with him once more, for a brief moment, he flinched and whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut. "He touched me. He was there. Ion was there. He touched me. He was the face I saw. He was there, Akriel, he was the one I saw when…When.."

"You sick son of a _bitch_!"

Both Virtues turned in sync, at the blur of a figure running across the Infirmary floor towards them, Ion recognized the voice and who it belonged to and his eyes flew open to watch as she drew nearer and nearer. Gzel had come out of nowhere, from some place in the Infirmary, never wandering far from where Akriel was, and ran towards them with a fury unseen. She dodged around healers and patients, ducking and jumping and spinning, locked onto the one in the bed.

Ion had only managed to raise his hands when her fist made impact, with all the strength she could muster, and his jaw shifted and cracked.

Gzel saw it from across the room and had been making her way over upon the sight of him, when he touched Orion, when he spoke to Orion. A fury had filled Gzel in a burning way she hadn't felt since moving in with Akriel, he helped talk her down from those moments, they weren't as often as they used to be. But seeing _him _with Orion made her blood boil. Gzel was for Orion. Orion was for Gzel. They defended each other, the stood up for each other, they were sisters. Gzel was the unstable one, but Orion was truly the more volatile one, she knew that.

She held her fists up, ready to strike again. "You don't touch her! You _don't _touch Orion!"

Behind her, Orion was on the verge of a panic attack, her chest slowly starting to heave, her hands shaking as they came up to clutch at her head. "I didn't…I didn't mean to!...I didn't!...I'm not bad…I'm not _her_….He touched me…._He _touched me first….I didn't…"

Akriel jumped forward when Gzel's fist swung back again, catching her wrist in a tight grip before it had a chance to fly forward for another blow. "No, no, Gzel. We don't attack people here."

She spun on him. "He touched her! He touched Orion, Akriel! He _touched _her!"

He nodded. "So I've heard. Go stand with Ephraim." She looked as though she wanted to protest, even looking over her shoulder at the one in question, but he pulled her back around gently. "Go." Gzel huffed, trudging forward, stepped passed him, she turned and made a gesture at Ion as she moved to stand with the Virtue empath.

Akriel ignored Ion, he was more concerned about his panicking charge, and turned to face her cautiously. "Rio? Rio, I'm here. Can you hear me?" Her eyes flit up to his, wide and fearful, as her chest heaved for a solid breath. She gave a quick nod, and he returned the gesture, holding out his hands for her. "Good. Good, Rio, can you take my hands?" She nodded again, reaching out with small shaking hands for his, and her fingers curled around his. "Good, Rio, you're doing so good. I'm going to pull you in, okay?"

Orion nodded, stepping forward when he pulled her into an embrace, warm and secure, as his arms encircled around her form. He pulled her close to him, so his heart beat thumped softy under her ear, she could feel the rise and fall of his chest as it inhaled and exhaled. "Can you match my breathing, Rio?" She nodded, trying her best, and her chest slowly stopped heaving. "Good girl, good job Rio, you're okay." He stroked his hand down the back of her head. "I've got you. You're alright, Rio. You're okay." His voice rumbled against her ear. "Just calm down, that's it Rio, calm down."

"He…He touched me Akriel…..He was…..He was the face….."

"He was the last one you saw."

She nodded against his chest, and he looked up to his brother, having talked Gzel down from her rage. Ephraim met his gaze and nodded at his unasked question, turning to get one of his own healers to tend to Ion instead, and Akriel looked down to his charge. "We're going to go upstairs, okay Rio, we're going to go upstairs and we're just going to talk. Okay?"

Orion nods, letting him escort her through the Infirmary, keeping her tucked safely against his side as they cross the threshold. Gzel follows behind them, glaring at anyone who looks in their direction for too long, knowing that her sister will want her there for the conversation.

If she was the unstable one, what did that make Orion?


	9. Other then Physical

It wasn't often that they were pulled to the front, the Healer tried to avoid having to order his Virtue and his charge to get involved, only Gzel, the others didn't know about Orion yet, and he had preferred to keep it that way.

But one cannot disobey nor deny an order from their Father.

Akriel had not been pleased when he come to him with the command that they join the Winchesters and their seraph friend on Earth, and that Gzel be brought with them, she was a soldier, she knew her way around in a fight, hand to hand was her forte. Gzel didn't seem to mind, she liked frightening them with her accuracy, and Akriel was always there when she was done, so she didn't mind in the slightest.

Orion had asked to come along, promising not to leave his side, not to utter a single word. And he had given his consent, taking her hand into his and giving it a comforting squeeze, she smiled up at him.

They had never really known what Orion's specialty was, she was a quiet individual who preferred to go unnoticed by the others, doing her duties as a healer and nothing more.

So, when she tugged on his sleeve, he looked down to her in confusion, not expecting her offer to help her sister in her _'interrogation' _of the demon they had been sent to capture for the two hunters and bring to their dungeon for questioning. "I can help."

"You can help?"

She nodded, assuring him and herself in the same moment, this was to help them. All she was doing was helping.

Akriel seemed against the idea, he wasn't happy that his other charge was being used in such a manner but didn't want to break her assurance in herself that she could handle the situation. So he nodded. Gesturing for her to do her thing. Orion gave him a small smile and stepped forward, fingers curled in the apron around her waist, she had been mixing tonics with Zed before they had been called down here.

They watched her carefully, to see what she might do, as she calmly set her hand on Gzel's shoulder. Her sister turned to look at her, eyes widening at her appearance, Orion looked up at her for a quiet moment, and the soldier nodded as she stepped away.

Their captive was bruised and beaten, his eyes nearly swollen shut, both cheek bones broken, physically he was a mess.

Orion's specialty was not physical. She knew her strange ability, it had been taken advantage of by the Mindbreaker, one of the reasons she had decided to make her the apprentice she'd take under her wing. She didn't have to throw fists or jab with sharp weapons. She barely had to touch you.

Gzel stood at her shoulder, Akriel and Raphael behind her, as they watched the quite healer step forward. The demon stared at her with his good eye and threw an insult, it rolled right passed her, something in her eyes changed as she approached, they couldn't see what it was, but the demon's eyes widened. Even the swollen one. And then he stopped blinking. They stared at each other.

Orion raised her right hand, holding out a few fingers, neither breaking their eye contact as she reached out for the demon. She pressed her fingers to his temple, and he inhaled deeply. Gzel watched them calmly, tilting her head when the demon flinched, his eyes twitching, and shoved her shoulder lightly. "Not too hard. We don't want'em brain dead."

"Gzel?" She turned at Akriel's voice. "What is she doing?"

"Mind-tapping him."

"What is that, little one?"

The Archangel looked just as curious as the Virtue did, watching the demon twitch under her touch, she was barely touching him, her fingers just hovering over his temple.

Gzel shrugged. "We're not really sure. Orion can make you relive your life and feel the emotions of those you've wronged. You feel what they feel as it happens."

The demon whimpered, his chin dropping slightly, and she turned to shove her shoulder again, this time a bit harsher. "Orion, not too hard." She looked back over at them and gestured at the demon with her thumb. "He's really done a number. Never seen someone twitch this much before."

They watched as she blinked, the demon's wide eyes staring still, and she removed her fingers from his temple. She leaned forward slightly. "You will tell us what you know." The demon moaned and nodded, staring into something they couldn't see. Orion stood back, turning to return to her guardians side, taking Akriel's hand again.

Gzel rubbed her hands together. "I think we did a good job today, guys."


	10. Talking It Through

He settled them in their lounge, on a soft, cushioned bench, surrounded by pillows. Akriel settled a blanket around her shoulders, kneeling slightly to look into her eyes, she looked so troubled and it made his heart clench that she felt so unsettled. He squeezed her knees slightly. "I'm going to get us something warm to drink, alright?"

She nods, staring down at her lap in shame, letting something so bad take control of her. That's why she never opened up to people. Why she never got too close. Because with one wrong thing, she could hurt them, and Orion doesn't want to hurt people. She wants to help people. Orion wants to be a healer. Orion wants to heal people.

The Virtue nods, squeezing her knees once more, and stands, heading for the counter and fire place. Their flames are always going, they never burn out, as if their enchanted. He just as to stoke them, setting a pot of water to boil. The flames burn hot, always, and it doesn't take long for the pot to whistle its being done, and he takes it off the rack, pouring some steaming water into a mug.

He returns soon enough, holding the mug out for her, and she reaches up silently to take it. "Some warm passion flower. Zeds the apothecary," he smiles. "But we all know a few tricks of the trade."

Akriel sits between them, a warm weight by her side, a comforting presence. He helps her lift the mug up with a finger under the bottom, guiding it to her lips, and urges her to take a sip. She takes a deep breath, taking a small sip, and lowers the mug.

"It's okay, Rio, you're not in trouble."

"I did something bad. I did something _really _bad. I'm bad. I'm _really _bad."

"You are not." He turns her head gently, turning her to face him, and gives her a comforting smile. "You're not _bad_." He guides her mug back up. "Take another sip." She does as she's told and takes another sip. "Talk to me Rio, tell me what happened."

She nods, taking a deep breath, trying to keep herself calm. And he waits patiently, Akriel's so patient with her, he never pushes and never gets mad and never yells, Akriel's so nice. He's so kind. He's one of the good ones. She looks up at him with wide fearful eyes, and he holds his hand out, she looks down at it. Orion bends slightly, setting the mug between her feet, and places her hand on his. His hands are so big compared to hers. She small, petite, compared to basically everyone she knows. His fingers curl through hers, and she curls hers through his, holding his hand tightly.

"Talk to me, Rio."

Orion nods, taking a deep breath, staring down at their hands. "He was there." She sucks in another breath and slowly lets it go again. "He touched me."

"How did Ion touch you?" Something flared in him at the implication of what that could mean, by Father, if it meant what he hoped it didn't, he'd tear him apart piece by piece. There'd be nothing left for them to put back together. He may be a medic, may be a healer, but he knew how to cause harm just as much as he knew to mend it. "What did he do?"

"He—He held me down." Her fingers tighten around his, the fingers of her free hand curled into a ball, she clenched both into a fist, as best as she could manage. "I—I fought. I didn't—didn't want to do it. So—So he held me down."

"How?" Akriel's so gentle. She likes Akriel. Orion trusts Akriel. "What would he do?"

She licks her lips, inhaling a shaky breath, and let it go softly. "I—I'd be forced on the table. He—He'd bend my arms back. Around—Around the table, around the back, so I couldn't swing. And then—And then—"

The trauma specialist leans forward, for to pick up the mug between her feet, and lifts it up to her lips. "Take a big sip." She does, swallowing it in one gulp, looking up at him as he pulls the mug back, resting it on his left knee. Gzel's beside him, on his other side, playing with her fingers, entertaining herself silently so they could talk. "Okay, what did he hold you down for?"

"So—So they could drill. They—They took my memories. I—I don't remember anything before then. They—They did something." She nods, swallowing again, curling her fingers tighter. He tightens his grip. "When—When I woke up I could do these things. People—People would start acting strange when I looked at them. I—I stared. I couldn't help it. We—We'd lock eyes and they'd start acting strange."

"What happened next?"

"She—She—Naomi. She saw. She—She'd watch. Then—Then she decided to show me everything. She—She'd show me how to do it. How—How to rewrite their memories. She—She'd hold my hand and f—force me to do it.

Orion choked softly, her eyes tearing up, and she sniffled lightly. "I—I did something bad. I did s—something really bad. I—I hurt so many p—people. I—I didn't want to. I—I p—promise I didn't."

"Hey, hey, look at me." She looks up, unwillingly of course, but he's so nice when he asks her to. He's not yelling. Akriel's still there. Still holding her hand. Still being so nice. "You're not bad. Okay, I'm going to say it again, you are _not _bad." He holds the mug up to her lifts again. "Another sip." She takes another sip, this time without prompting, and he lowers the mug back to his knee. "I want you to say it not."

"But—But—"

"No, no, you have to say it."

The little healer licks her lips. "I—I'm not b—bad."

"Good, we're going to keep saying that, what happened?"

Orion looks at her sisters hands, her fingers moving around languidly as she entertained herself with them, creating shapes and such. "I—I hurt G—Gzel."

"What?" Akriel turns to look at his other girl, she looks up at him, nodding to confirm her words. "Yep. She did it. I'm not mad though. She didn't want to."

"She rewrote you?"

Gzel nods. "She was really worked up about it too. Orion was crying really hard, the Mindbreaker yelled at her for it, she kept apologizing." She leans forward to look at her from around his side. "Orion doesn't remember now, and I forgot for a long time, but we were friends before—well before _that_."

"I'm sorry—I'm _so_ sorry! I didn't—didn't want to!"

Akriel hands her the mug as he turns back around, curling her around to bury her into him, wrapping his free arm around her shoulders to pull her close. Her free hand curls into his tunic, clutching at the fabric as tightly as she can manage, sobbing into his chest.

"It's okay, there you go, it's okay." He strokes his free hand down the back of her head, his thumb over the back of her hand, their fingers still intertwined. "Let it out, now, there you go."

She cries for some time. He can't move, lest he have to pull her away from him, so he merely calls out to his other charge. "Gzel, you don't blame Orion, do you?"

"Nope."

He nods slightly. "Why not?"

"Because she was so upset about it. You should have seen it. She was so broken down about it. I can't be mad at someone who was like that." He knew she shrugged, even without looking at her, Gzel was Gzel. "She didn't want to. I knew that. So, I'm not upset about it."

It took Orion a few minutes to calm down again, her chest heaving once her sobs had come to a stopping point, leaning against his chest as silently as she could muster, listening to his heart beat under her. He fished in his pocket for a rag and pulls her back slightly to wipe her face clean, rubbing away the tracks of her tears, her face red and blotchy, her eyes red and glistening, he rubbed at her nose too, cleaning up the mess. "It's okay. Do you hear me?" He curls the fingers of his free hand around under her ear, rubbing thumb over his cheek bone. "It's _okay_." She nods weakly, refusing to meet his eyes. "Hey, hey, look at me, can you look at me?" Her eyes flit upwards, scared to look up at him, unsure as to what she might do to him by looking at him. She doesn't want to hurt Akriel. Orion doesn't want to hurt Akriel. But, nothing happens, he smiles at her, his thumb stroking over her cheek again. "It's okay. You're okay. Everything's okay. Do you understand?"

Orion nods shakily.

"What are you?"

"I—I'm not b—bad."

"Good girl." He pulls her forward and presses his lips to her forehead. "Good girl."

He pulls her back against him, curling his fingers around the back of her head, scratching lightly at her scalp. "We're going to take a nap, okay?" The Passion Flower is a sedative, it's to calm the nerves, it'll make her tired. And he doesn't want to leave her alone, not now, not after all that. "Gzel, you too, we're all going to go take a nap."

"Okay, Akriel."

Orion nods quietly, sniffling into his shoulder, and he sets the mug down lightly, turning as he stands, kneeling slightly. He unwinds his fingers from his little girls fingers, and curls an arm under her knees, lifting her from the bench, cradling her close to him as he comes to stand. She curls up, resting her head against his shoulder, sniffling softly. Gzel stands with him, her fingers curling lightly into the sleeve of his tunic, he nods once, turning them in the direction of the hall, of his room, and there they go.


	11. Tricking The Local Trauma Specialist

His brothers are laughing, crowded around him in the hallway, behind him, laughing.

He stands in the doorway of his room, arms raised in surprise, face scrunched up into something humorous, as he's met with the splash of a cool bucket of water. Slowly, his arms lower, and he rubs the water from his eyes, so he can see what's been waiting for him.

Gzel and Orion stand there.

Gzel is the one holding the bucket. She looks so smug, laughing at his expense, holding the bucket loosely in her hands. Behind her is Orion, she's a bit more reserved, the others are around obviously, that's why she's a bit more reserved then her sister is, but there's an amused smile gracing her features and her eyes glow playfully mischievous.

He rubs the water away again, brushing his wet hair up and back, out of his face, but he smiles in amusement to their trick. "You _little_—" He lunges forward, Gzel pushes the bucket at him, and they try to scatter, trying to escape on either side. He drops the bucket, he has Zaveriel as a younger brother, he knows how to move fluidly when it comes to tricks and pranks, and snags one of them around the waist.

Gzel's laughter disappears down the hall towards the Infirmary below them, and Orion shrieks, he knows who he's managed to catch before their escape could be made. She kicks out, struggling to get his arms off from around her waist, and he laughs at her struggling attempts for freedom.

She laughs brightly as he spins her around. They others listen mesmerized, Orion's laughter is bright, melodious, with giggles mixed in smoothly, something they've never heard from the quite, reserved little healer.

Akriel leans back, tipping her back into him, and burrows into the side of her neck. She shrieks brightly, not seeming to remember that they are standing there, listening in awe for her free spirit playing around them.

"Ahahahak! You're sohoho _cohohohold!_"

"Whose fault is that?" He speaks into her neck and she giggles brightly, scrunching her shoulder up around him, shrieking again when he shakes his head into her neck. "You're so warm, though." He digs his fingers into her sides, and she squirms, tugging at his wrists, laughing brightly for them all to hear. They dare not make a sound, not to interrupt it, wanting to hang on to every giggle they have never had the privilege of hearing before.

"Ihihihit wasn't my ideahahahhaa!"

"But you played along, didn't you?" He brushes his nose behind her ear and her giggles rise in pitch. "Which means you deserve this just as much as she does." He shakes his head again and she shrieks once more. "Now, I must punish you, so that you may think twice next time."

He steps forward, over the forgotten bucket, into his room, and the others take that as their cue to disperse and let them be. They've all heard enough of her giggles anyway, now they can store then away, remember them for later. It'll take time, they know it will, for her to open up to them all, like Gzel has, and they're sure they'll be able to explore those bright, melodious giggles then.

Akriel drops her on his bed, looming over top of her, and she giggles brightly as she curls up under him. A smile graces her features, it's so big, and it makes his heart burst with joy at the sight of it. He wiggles his fingers down at her, and Orion giggles harder, reaching up to hold off his hands. They wrestle for a bit, his little healer's a fighter and it makes him so damn proud, and he lets her come out on top, sitting on his stomach.

No matter, he's had practice, Zaves makes an excellent test subject. The trauma specialist bucks his hips, curling his fingers around her waist, lifting his knees up to force her forward, and she shrieks, laughter bursting from her when he buries his face into her lower belly. It doesn't matter that her tunic's in the way. It just keep his beard from rubbing against the smooth skin. Oh, he knows how bad his beard can be, you should hear Zaves _scream _with laughter when he rubs his beard into his belly. Oren does it too. It's hilarious and heart warming every single time.

She rises, leaning forward, standing up on her knees and he follows her, tightening his fingers around her waist. He turns over, sliding her down in his spot he vacated, and she throws her head back against the pillow, arching her back before he pulls away.

Orion's still giggling breathlessly when he looks down at her, his hands resting on either side of her head against the pillow, and Akriel chuckles at her residual giggles. It took them some time to reach this point, where she can be so freely expressive around him, she's truly the freest spirit he knows, once you get passed that silence and cautiousness. "You're adorable." She smiles, giggling lightly, and leans back into the pillow under her head. "I'm the luckiest angel alive."

Her eyes shine with playful laughter as she gazes up at him. "Why?"

"Because you're all mine."

Orion giggles. "You love me, Akriel?"

He smiles down at her, giving a quick nod of affirmation, and leans down to kiss her forehead lightly. "With all my heart."

She giggles lightly, leaning upwards to kiss his chin, and he smiles in adoration. His hands shoot down to the hem of her tunic, and her eyes widen comically wide, giggles growing in quantity. "I love your belly too."

"No!"

"Yes!"

By the time he pulls away again, she's breathless, airy giggles escaping her as she curls up on herself, wrapping her arms around her belly and curling on her side. Akriel chuckles down at her, stroking the side of her head, her hair back behind her ear. "Did I go too far?" Orion likes playing with Akriel. He always stops when she tells him to. Akriel never goes too far.

Orion giggles, reaching up to pet his beard lightly with her fingers. "Your beard is so scratchy." He chuckles again, catching her hand, pressing his lips to the tips of her fingers. "But you love my beard, don't you?"

"I do." She giggles airily. "It's just really scratchy."

The Virtue winks at her playfully. "It's my secret weapon." He strokes her cheek lightly when she pulls her hand back. "What are you going to do now?"

His little healer yawns softly, nuzzling down against his pillow, he smiles softly. "I'm going to take a nap."

Akriel brushes his finger down her nose tenderly. "That sounds like a great plan." She smiles up at him. "I'd join you, of course," he leans forward slightly. "But I've got to go hunt down your little partner in crime."

"It's okay." She smiles up at him again. "More room for me." She stretches her arms out completely.

The Virtue chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. "I don't quite understand why you both like my bed so much. Their made out of the same material."

"Yours is comfier."

He brushes her cheek with a knuckle. "Whatever you say, little healer." Leaning over to kiss her cheek affectionately. "You take your nap."

"I will."

"Good." He leans forward as he stands from the edge of the bed. "You could use a nap." He turns slightly, pulling his cloak off the corner of his wardrobe's door, he shakes it out twice, and tucks it over his young charge. "This'll keep you warm."

Orion smiles, nuzzling deeper into the cloak, it smells like Akriel. It makes her feel safe. Safe enough to be sleepy. He smiles down at her. "The others are all around if you need anything, okay?" Orion nods, closing her eyes, pulling the cloak up over the lower half of her face, "Okay, Ak."


	12. Tempting the Healer's Temper

"Deserter."

It was a simple word that had so many repercussions that came with it.

Zaveriel bows his head, taking a step back from the accusatory glare that's aimed his way, stepping back into someone. Their hands curl lightly over his shoulders, he looks over in surprise, staring at the familiar ring. Zed rubs his thumbs over his shoulders lightly in comfort, glaring over his head at the Messenger. The Virtues close ranks, surrounding their youngest brother, Oren comes to stand before him, blocking the view of him from anyone who desires to gaze upon him. Akriel stands close to his right side, lifting a hand to set upon his head, watching the seen around them carefully. On his left, Constantine stands, his arms crossed loosely over his chest, shaking his head lightly at the Messenger, disdain evident in his eyes. Ephraim stands behind him, next to Zed, his hand pressed against the small of his back.

The Powers stand timidly behind their Commander, eyeing the Messenger carefully, shaking their head softly.

Behind the Messenger, the Principalities appear uncomfortable, shifting in their place, uneasy around them all.

_"Gabriel." _Beside them, the Healer surges forward, his fingers curled tightly around his staff, as he comes to loom over the Messenger. "How _dare _you say such a horrid thing to one of _my _Virtues."

"Oh, shove off Raph!" The Messenger shoves the older archangel harshly in the chest. "He was mine first and he _abandoned_ his brothers!"

"_No." _The Healer points a finger in the young archangels face. "He was _mine _first." And forces him to take a step back, when he takes a step forward. "I _let _you have him." His grip tightens dangerously around his staff. "_You _are the _deserter_."

"He _left_—"

"Following _your _example!" His older brother points a finger in his face in warning, the Messenger goes cross eyed as he stares at it, his older brother's eyes shining lightly with the first signs of his grace peeking through. "_Watch _how you speak to me, you little _fool_, I don't take those who disrespect me, and most certainly those who disrespect my own." The Messenger is forced back another step. "You _lost _him because of your own _stupidity, _you continued promising the same thing over and over again and you failed to deliver, how could anyone continue to follow the word of someone whose word means _nothing_."

"I—"

"You lost _two-thirds _of your flock because of your _failing _to put them first."

Michael watched them both carefully, standing before his Powers, his Captain at his side. His arms lay loosely crossed over his chest, waiting only for the moment he's needed to step in, Gabriel has dared to tempt Raphael's temper.

"I—"

"You are an _insult _to the commanding of a flock. An _insult _to us Archangels. An _insult _as a _person_."

"He—"

"I am _ashamed _of you."


	13. Healing the Healers Daughter

"Hey Ori."

He looks up from the files he's reading at the call of his name, and the voice that calls it, smiling in greeting. He closes the file, clutching it in one hand, as he opens his arms welcomingly. "Hey, you little scamp, I haven't seen you in a good while." His new companion giggles lightly, curling around him tightly, wrapping their arms around his chest, pressing in close to listen to his heart beat, and his arms wrap around them just as tightly.

"That's 'cause you never visit anymore."

"Have I truly neglected you, baby sister?" He pokes her side lightly, she giggles again, leaning away from his hand as best she could manage. "We shall rectify that immediately." She pushes lightly against his chest when he pinches at her hips. "Orhihi stohohop!"

"I'm just making up for lost time."

She finally manages to shove away from him, smacking him in the stomach with the back of her hand. "You're a jerk!"

"I'm your big brother, I'm supposed to be." He laughs softly as he pulls her back in, refraining from torturing her this time. "Are you staying out of trouble, Ia?"

"I _never _get into trouble, Ori." She smiles into his shoulder. "I don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about."

"Right, and your friend doesn't give the Captain of the Powers a heart attack at least once a month."

"She's adventurous."

He rubs his fingers between her braids, scratching lightly at her scalp, and she sighs in comfort. "Right, that's what we're calling it, I'm sure he has other words he uses to describe her escapades." He kisses the side of her head lightly. "We're only lucky you're not as _'adventurous'_ as your little friend is."

She pulls back, smiling up at him cheekily. "As far as you know."

His eyes widen, and she laughs softly as she dances out of his grip before he can dig into her side again, and he lunges forward playfully. "Oh ho, are we keeping _secrets_, now?" he reaches for her and she jumps back again, laughing brightly. "Tell me about these escapades _you _go on, why don't you."

"Nothing bad!"

She jumps around to try and turn in another direction, but he catches her in time, wrapping his arms around her lower belly, burrowing into her neck. She shrieks brightly, bending forward, trying to curl in on herself. But he follows, bending with her, and she shrieks again when he shakes his head. "I'll be the judge of that, I think."

"Orihihihi!"

He chuckles as he pulls away, straightening them back out again, and they sway from side to side lightly. "What brings you to see us, baby Ia?" She leans back against his chest. "Are you in need of help or healing?"

The teenager shakes her head. "No. I just haven't seen you guys in a while. I missed you."

"Who's the one who knows she's allowed to come visit when ever she wants and yet never does?" he smiles down at her from over her shoulder. "Oh, I know, it's _you_."

"I don't want to get in the way. You guys are busy."

"That's nothing but nonsense and you know it." They sway around, her pressed back against his chest, and his arms wrapped around her protectively. "You're always welcome here. We all adore you and you're the one thing your dad holds above all else." They watch the Infirmary work around them. "You know you're always welcome, we may be busy, but we'd always make time for you."

"You guys are the best."

He kisses a spot under her ear. "Only for you." She smiles, leaning her head against his arm. "Do you want to see your dad?" The teenager nods, and he raises an arm, pointing towards the other side of the Infirmary, just across from them, and she stands up a bit higher, on her toes, to spot what he's indicating. "He's over there, I'm not sure what he's doing, but he'd make the time to see you."

She leans up, standing on her toes again, and kisses the curve of his chin lightly. "Thanks, Ori."

"Always, Ia." He pokes her belly playfully and she giggles as she jumps forward out of his embrace. "Stop by later and we'll continue catching up on that missed time."

She smiles at him, shaking her head, jogging away a few paces when he lunges forward again. He laughs as she jumps forward, away from him and his grasp as much, as much as she can manage. The Virtue winks at her as he returns to his files.

The teenager wanders across the Infirmary floor, smiling and waving at familiar faces as she passes through, and as she grows closer and closer she spots him. Kneeling at the foot of someone's bed, examining something on the sole of their foot, so deeply immersed in his work that he doesn't notice her coming.

Not until she drapes herself over him, her arms curling loosely around his neck, resting her chin on his shoulder. He chuckles lightly, reaching up to squeeze her arm softly, turns ever so slightly to kiss the undercurve of her cheek.

"Hello, my little Iaso."

She kisses his cheek in return. "Hi, daddy."

The archangel nods to the healer hovering at his left side, standing back to his full height, his daughter hangs on as best as she can, giggling in his ear when he lifts her off her feet gently. She drops after a moment, back to her feet, and he turns to greet her properly, pulling her into a warm embrace.

"Not that I do not love you coming to visit," he pulls away after a moment, holding her out at arm's length. "But you never call me _'daddy' _unless you've done something foolish that you know I will not be pleased with." The Healer squeezes his daughters shoulders warmly. "So, out with it, my troublesome little daughter, what really brings you to me?"

"I just wanted to come see you, daddy."

"Right, and if I were to look you over, I would find _nothing _wrong." He gives her a scrutinizing look. "Wouldn't I?"

"No?"

_"Iaso."_

She looks down quickly. "I think I sprained my wrist."

He gives her a particular look and she tries for a smile, the sternness fades away at the gesture and he shakes his head fondly, turning to guide her to a bed. He sits her on the edge, pulling a chair around to sit before her, and holds his hand out expectantly. "Let's see the damage."

The Nephilim teenager hesitantly lays her hand in her fathers, and he gently guides it over, lifting her sleeve with a gentle ease. He hums as he examines the bruised appendage. "Most certainly sprained. The bruising is deep." He strokes a finger over a particularly deep one and she flinches. "How did you come about spraining your wrist?"

Iaso giggles softly, despite the situation, and he glances up at her as he binds her slim wrist. "You don't want to know."

He nods. "Alright, promise that it won't happen again?"

"I promise, daddy."

"Good girl." Her father holds his hand out for her and helps her to her feet. "How about we go say hello to everyone, we've all missed you quite a bit."

Iaso curls close into her father's side, Raphael curls his arm around her shoulders, and she leans against him as they step forward.

"Daddy, will you get back at Ori for always picking on me?"

The archangel chuckles, kissing the side of her head. "Of course, darling."


	14. I'm Not Going Anywhere

"You've been avoiding me."

His shoulders stiffen, muscles tensing under his skin, ready to snap at a moments notice, and his fingers curl tightly around the strap of his armor as he finishes putting it away. He knows that voice behind him, it's a voice from his fledglinghood, one he remembers quite well, one that used to give him night terrors in the Infirmary, before the Grigori knocked some sense back into their archangel with that poison of his.

They really owed Semyaza so much.

"I am not."

"I raised you, Haniel, I know you better then anyone." He hears him step into the room behind him. "I know you're having trouble." He comes to stand behind him, he can feel the warmth he emits, it's like the warmth of a crackling fire, the ones they light in the lounge's fireplace in the cold of winter. "I want to help you, but I do not know how, I don't want to push you away."

"There's nothing to help." He doesn't sound so convincing to his own ears. "I'm fine."

"Not even you sound convinced that statement is true."

He looks down, bending forward slightly, scrunching his shoulders up. "I'm fine."

"Talk to me, Hani, I cannot help if you do not talk to me."

The Power heaves a sigh, feeling ridiculous as he does, he's a _Power_, he should be fearless. This is ridiculous. It's embarrassing, really. This isn't how a member of Heaven's most terrifying Legion should be feeling, should be acting, he needs to take a deep breath and regain his composure.

He can't.

"I'm scared you'll follow through with what you threatened to do."

Haniel can feel the confusion coming from his commander, Michael doesn't remember much while he was away from himself, it didn't come as a surprise that he didn't remember saying what he had.

"What did I threaten to do to you, Hani?"

"You….You said I was too lighthearted for your Legion." He turns a quick glance over his shoulder. "That perhaps Thaddeus should show me how a _true _Power should act."

There's a moment of silence that follows his careful admission, a long moment of silence, as though the archangel is having trouble comprehending what he'd just said. It's not easy to digest, he had once been one of Michael's favorites, if he were to openly admit he had favorites, all of his Powers were most certainly it. Especially Haniel.

"I—I don't know what to say to that, Haniel, I honestly don't." He's tripping over his words, not sure how he should say what he wants to say, how to put it into words. "I cannot—Thaddeus is a shameful example of how my Powers should behave. I assume that you are frightened that I might follow through because I had not acted on those words."

He shakes his head. "No. Nis talked you down." He holds his hand up, pointer finger and thumb a mere inch apart. "You were _this_ close though."

"I wouldn't want you to change who you are, Haniel, you are perfect just the way you are."

"You didn't say that though." Haniel looks down again, heaves a deep sigh, and lifts his hand to set his chest piece on the designated hooks. "You said I was too kind. I was too fledgling-like. That I needed to _grow up _and act like the soldier I was."

"I would want you to be no other way then the way you are."

"But, that's not what you said."

"I was wrong to say what I did." A hand curls over his shoulder. "Haniel, turn, look at me."

He turns, timidly, to face him, curling in on himself as he turns to face his tormentor. Michael looks like he normally does, which is so much different then how he looked when he was not himself, when his eyes were hard, and his expression was stony. Emotionless. But now his eyes are bright, their concerned, confused. He's frowning lightly, its so full of concern, it's a far cry from how he was before.

"My little Hani, there are no words I can use to express how sorry I am." He lifts his hand to caress his cheek. "To see the fear in your eyes as you look at me hurts beyond belief." His thumb rubs over his cheek. "Is there anything I can do to make it up to you, I know it's a lot to ask, but I don't want to lose you."

"You weren't _you_ anymore."

"But, I'm me _now._" Michael leans closer to him. "I'm not going anywhere." He tries for a gentle smile. "I will never leave you again." He hesitantly lifts a hand to curl over the archangel's, _his _archangel's, _this _is the Michael he knows. Caring and loving and kind. So careful with them, always worrying over their wellbeing, a good brother and a great commander to follow.

He feels like he's a fledgling again. "Promise?"

"With all my grace."


	15. Sick Healers Become Sick Patients

He knew he was a big bad Virtue now, a feared warrior and a knowledgeable healer, one of the four legions, a fearsome figure to stand against. He was tough and rough and powerful.

And with all that in mind, none of it stopped him, when he woke up feeling less then himself, from slowly climbing out from under his blankets and padding across the hall, slipping into his older brother's room, and sliding in beside him in his bed.

The older Virtue woke slightly at the feeling of someone sliding in next to him, turning slightly over his side, uncurling softly, he peered over his shoulder at the younger angel next to him. His younger brother didn't seem to notice that he was being watched, as he curled down under the elder's blankets, nuzzling down into his pillow.

He turned over, tugging his younger brother closer, he snuffles softly and leans in close, rubbing his cheek against the older angel's chest. "Baby brother, it's awfully early for you to be up and about." He rubs a hand over his face softly. "The sun hasn't even risen yet."

"I don't feel good, Ori."

"You don't feel well, Zaves?"

The youngest Virtue shakes his head, nuzzling deeply into his older brothers side, clutching at his tunic with his free hand. A cool hand curls over his forehead from his right side and he sighs in comfort at the feeling, it's so cool against his warm skin, and he leans in closer to it. "You're a bit warm, baby brother." He turns slowly, from laying on one side to resting on the other, pulling him closer even still. "Let's get a few more hours of sleep, alright?"

"Mhm…'Kay…Ori."

…

"Alright, I brought everything we may need; upset stomach, feverish, headache, lightheaded, you name it I got a tonic for it."

He wakes to the new voice, blinking groggily, rubbing a fist over his left eye as he sits up from the soft pillow he'd just been sleeping against. Zed smiles down at him comfortingly, sitting beside him on the side of Oren's bed, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead, then his cheeks, feeling for the warmth that emanated from the smooth skin. "Aw, baby brother, you've gone and caught a bug."

"I don't feel good, Z."

"So, I've heard." He strokes his fingers over the ailing angels cheek. "Tell big brother what hurts."

Zaves nods, leaning into the fingers stroking his cheek. "My belly hurts."

"Okay, what else?"

"My throat hurts, too." He coughs softly into his hand. "And my head." Then yawns softly. "And, I'm really sleepy."

Zed smiles down at him again. "Being sleepy is your body's way of healing itself." And pokes his nose softly. "But I've got just the thing for an upset belly, a headache, and sore throats." He hums thoughtfully. "_And_, a fever."

The apothecary turns slightly in his spot, for the table that sits there covered in little tonic bottles, sifting through his small inventory and picking what he needs from the stash he'd brought with him. Popping the cap off the ones he's taken in hand, he holds them out one by one, chuckling softly when the youngest Virtue eyes them wearily. "I know they aren't very appetizing, but they'll help you feel better."

Zaveriel nods sleepily and takes the first one, sipping it down carefully, making a face at the taste of it.

Zed nods approvingly as he downs the next, the one after, and the last. "There you go, it'll take a bit of a minute to kick in, but it'll help you feel better for a time."

The younger Virtue nods, rubbing a hand under his nose quietly, sniffling in deeply. "Thanks, Z."

"Anytime, baby brother." He rubs a hand over his curly hair. "We'll get you feeling like new in no time."

Oren steps up beside him, holding one of his tunics in hand. "We need to get you into a new tunic, you've drowned that one in sweat."

The young exmessenger sniffs again, leaning forward pitifully. "I'm sorry about your blankets."

He waves away the apology lightheartedly. "Don't be." He gestures for him to pull his tunic over his head and swaps out the one he's carrying for the soiled one. "It wouldn't be the first time you've slept in my bed while ill." Zaves slips his older brothers tunic on, its too big for him, and he rolls the sleeves up over his wrists. He's so short, he muses grumpily, as he sits there drowned in his older brother's tunic. Oren smirks at him, as if he knows what he's thinking, and he grumbles lightly at the expression. "I'd have given you a pair of my trousers as well, but, you don't even barely fit into my tunic, so I thought against it."

"I hate you."

"You can sleep in your own bed, then."

"I love you."

Zed snorts as he turns away to collect up the tonics he doesn't need. "That was quick."

Their Captain nods in approval, smirking still, Zaves would never change. "That's what I thought you meant."

He nods to himself though, stepping closer. "I would leave you up here to rest, but I want to be able to keep an eye on you while you rest, so you'll come down with us."

Zaves pouts, and he chuckles, nodding slightly once more. "You can bring my blanket."

The youngest Virtue seems appeased by that statement, climbing out of his older brothers large bed, tugging the blanket along with him, curling it around his shoulders as he comes to stand before his older brother. Oren smiles at him, curling an arm around his shoulders, pulling him around slowly, he feels the warm presence of Zed behind him.

"Ak and Eph made you up a bed already."

"You told them?" The younger looks up at the older with puffy nosed horror. "It's bad enough that you guys know!"

"Who was the one that came to my room last night, again?" Oren gives the expression of one thinking deeply as he leads them down the hall and through the lounge to the stone stairs that lead down to the Infirmary below. "Oh, right, I remember, it was _you_." He rubs at the back of his head lightly before settling his arm back around his shoulders. "You couldn't have hope that I would have kept such a thing to myself."

"You guys are so smothering!"

Oren stops them at the bottom of the stairs. "If that's a problem, I can take my blanket back and you can go rest all on your lonesome in your own bed, we don't _have _to care for you. Is that what you want?"

Zaveriel ducks into the blanket, sniffing miserably, trying to appear as pitifully adorably as he can manage. "No."

"Then quit complaining."

He looks down at the blanket he clutches so tightly. "Sorry, Oren."

Finds rub though his curls. "Don't be. I know your complaining because you don't feel well." He leans over to him slightly. "And, we would have taken care of you regardless." Zaves smiles at his hands, feeling warm and cozy pressed against his older brothers side, as he guides him to the bed they've made up for him.

There's an extra pillow there, fluffed up for someone to lay on, and an extra blanket folded at the end of the bed, draped over the metal frame. A jug of water sits on the side table, a cup already filled next to it, an oil lamp for when it's dark, and a few books to read for when he can't sleep.

Someone's waiting for them, their back turned in their direction, staring at the bed as though they're inspecting it for perfection.

He loves having older brothers.

"Hey, Ak."

The mystery person turns at the sound of his name being called, smiling at them as they approach, opening his arms slightly for him to fold into. Akriel's warm, not too warm, but warm when he presses his face to his chest. He rubs his back comfortingly. "I heard you weren't feeling well, Zavie."

"I feel bad."

He presses the back of his hand to his cheek. "I'd say so. You're burning up."

"You guys will make it better."

"Damn right, we will." He guides him around, leading him to his bed, and takes Oren's blanket for a moment, uncurling if from around his shoulders. "Lay on down, I'll drape his blanket over you." Zaves climbs in bed without protest, stifling a soft cough with his hand, dropping down to lay against the pillows in as comfortable a position he can manage when everything aches. Akriel does as he promises, shaking the blanket out, and lifts it to drape over top of him.

"You get as much rest as you can." He strokes the backs of his fingers over his cheek. "Call if you need anything. Or, at least, cough as loud as you can." He can't help a bit of teasing, even in this situation, he wouldn't be an older brother if he didn't find the opportunity as much as he could. Zaves glares up at him lightly, there's no heat behind it, there never is. "You're being mean to me."

"Never."

Zaves looks to their Captain. "Ori, he's being mean to me."

"I'll be sure to reprimand him quite sternly."

Zed snorts again, and he can hear the amused smile in Oren's voice, Akriel smiles down at him. "I'm terrified. I apologize."

The younger returns his smile. "It's okay, Ori, he said he was sorry."

"I'm quite relieved, baby brother."


	16. Healing a Broken Heart

He turned at the familiar sound of a wooden staff clapping against the stone flooring of his temple, breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of him, even the concern shining in his bright blue eyes.

"Anubis, I got your message, what's happened?"

The Egyptian shrugged, completely out of the loop, no one knew what had happened, not even the servants that she was closest to. All he knew, is that she had run into his throne room, while he had been dealing with his godly duties, crying into her hands. He'd stood from his throne, tried to call out to her, to find out what had broken her heart so terribly, but she had ignored him and continued running away. He'd followed her all the way to her room, where she had slammed the door shut behind her, and undoubtedly jumped into her bed.

Where she stayed.

"I don't know, man, she just ran in crying and slammed the door shut behind her." He gestured to the closed doorway they stood before. "I didn't think it was my place to pry, so I called you."

The archangel nods in appreciation, "Thank you, Anubis, I will tend to this." He spares him a look. "You go return to your duties. It'll be alright."

"Okay, cool, okay." The deity nods his head quickly, "Just, tell me if there's anything I can do to help, okay, she means a lot to me."

"I will."

"And tell me if I need to kill anyone. I'll do it."

He pauses, turning to look at his Egyptian charge over his shoulder. "That is not an option."

"I mean," the youth shrugs lightly. "It is though. I'm just saying. I'd do it."

"You are _not _killing anyone."

Anubis shrugs again. "I'd have no problems doing it."

"Anubis, you are not killing anyone."

The deity smiles at him, it's not a smile he's fond of, and it brings him pause. "Just let me know." And turns to walk away, quite possibly so he could claim deniability against anything he says next. "Anubis! You are _not_!" He knows the deity heard him because he throws his hands up dramatically in a large shrug.

Sighing deeply, wondering to himself silently when he procured two children, the archangel turns back towards the room that holds his most treasured gem behind it. Grasping the door handle slightly, he twists it open, peering in the room for any sign of an audience.

The curtains are drawn closed, casting the room in a dark shadow, things are strewn about as though they were thrown in a fit of passion. There are torn pages scattered across the floor, ripped to pieces, a ceramic lamp laying shattered against the wall next to the door.

Then there's the mound in the bed. Curled under the blankets. The only sign of it being a living being was the curls that poked out from under the silken covers.

"Go _away_, Anubis."

He sighs again, he knew these things would come when he found himself with a daughter to care for, and he had promised himself he would be ready to mend the broken heart. Stepping into the dark room, he closes the door behind him, leaning his staff against the wall beside it. Crossing the room silently, the Healer sits on the side of the bed, the mound shifts at the added weight next to it. He pets the curls that poke out of the bed, the top of her head, tugging at them lightly.

"What happened, my little one?"

There's a soft beat of silence. "Dad?"

"I'm here, baby girl, tell me what happened."

There's a soft sniffle and the mound shifts, the blankets pulled down slowly from over his daughter's head, revealing her teary eyes and red cheeks for him to see. "Daddy." She crawls forward slightly, scooting closer, and lays her head in his lap. He strokes her curls back, curling them back around her ear gently, brushing his fingers over her forehead. "Talk to me, my child."

"It hurts, daddy."

"What does, my sweet child?"

She curls her fingers under her chin, sniffling again. "My heart."

"Broken hearts are very serious matters."

"Daddy," she nods into his leg lightly. "Am I too much?"

"Too much?"

She nods lightly. "Am I too independent?"

He hums softly, stroking a finger over her cheek. "You are perfect just the way you are." The archangels fingers are warm as they glide down her cheek to her chin. "Is that what that _boy _said to you?"

"We got into another argument."

"Oh, my little Iaso." Raphael rubbed her upper arm tenderly. "Why do you insist on going back to him?" Rubs the back of his fingers over her cheek. "You are too good for _him_."

"Because, daddy, I love him."

"You are too _young _to know what love is." She sniffles softly. "Please let him _go_. It pains me deeply to see you so distraught."

She nods. "Okay, daddy." She finally peeks up at him, and he strokes a finger under her eye, catching a tear as it falls, giving a comforting smile. "Will you smite him, daddy?"

The archangel chuckles lightly. "You know I would do anything for you." Stroking a finger down her nose. "But you know I can't smite him."

"Do you think Anu would kill him?"

"What is it with you two?" He shakes his head fondly. He adores them both. "No, we are not taking his life."

Iaso nods softly, rubbing at her nose, and he tugs at her sleeve. "Come, sit up. You are not going to stay in the darkness of your room any longer." The archangel stands when she sits up, sitting in a curled up mound on her bed, the blanket draped over her shoulders. He strides across the room and throws the curtains open, they both squint at the sudden onslaught of brightness, and he peers out at the scenery from her grand bedrooms windows, turning to smile at her.

She tries for a smile, but its more pitiful then happy, and he tilts his head fondly as he strides back to her side. He holds his hands out for her. "Come on, we're getting you up." She sniffs and nods, reaching a small hand up for one of his, and he gently guides her to her feet, pulling her into a warm embrace. "You don't need such a fool in your life, my girl, you are too good for him." Iaso nods quietly, trying for another smile as she pulls away, and he pulls her close into his side as he turns. "Let's go see Anu, he was quite worried about you."

"I threw a lamp at him."

"I wasn't going to bring it up."

She giggles softly, a wet soft giggle. "You're the best, daddy."

He smiles at the sound of her soft giggle, despite how watery it is, and leans over to his left for his staff. "Where do you think you get your best qualities from?"

"Mom."

"Your mother was a wonderful woman."

Iaso gives a small smile, tugging her blanket more snuggly around her shoulders, as they quickly descend on the throne room. Anubis looks up at their appearance, walking down the side hall towards him, and waves the servant at his side away as they approach. Standing from his throne, he takes the stairs two at a time to meet at their side, meeting the young Nephilim with a hug at the ready.

She leans against him, sniffling pitifully into his shoulder, and he hugs her close and tight. "I'm sorry, _shoqeiqa al-tafl_."

"It's okay, Anu." She nuzzles closer into his shoulder. "I asked daddy if you could kill him and he said no."

"I'd do it!" He presses his cheek to the side of her head. "You're dad's denial be damned. You want me to kill 'em, I'll do it."

The archangel crossed his arms before him, raising an eyebrow. "You will _not_."

"I'd do it when he wasn't around so I could claim deniability."

"You can't now. I _know _now."

Iaso giggles again, pushing away from her adopted older brother. "You don't have to kill him, Anu." She pats his chest lightly, and he catches her hand, pressing a kiss to her fingers. "Sorry I threw a lamp at you."

"Me too, you could have hit this handsome face."

"It's not that handsome, Anu."

"I take offense to that, Ia."

The Healer shakes his head, intervening before they really got into it, pulling them apart gently. Iaso tucks herself back in his side, and he rubs at her arm lightly, lifting his chin slightly as he gazes upon the Egyptian. "We are going up for a bit. You had better _not _do anything to him, Anubis."

He holds his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright, don't get your trousers in a twist." He smirks at him lightly. "I won't do anything."

The archangel and Nephilim walk together out to the atrium garden, where she curls into her father, his arms curling around her tightly. "Are you ready?" Iaso nods curling her arms around his front as tight as she can, bending in time with him when he bent slightly at the knee, feeling the air shift as he opens his wings wide, and then he thrusts them into the air. She peeks out from her arm, over his, as the ground grows smaller and smaller, the shift in color and atmosphere as they break through the barrier, and takes in the bright colors of her father's home. They glide over the training field, she sees someone look up at them, shielding their eyes from the bright sun. Over the Choirs Pantheon, their voices echoing melodically in her ears, bodies running about under them. They fly around the Aerie, someone waves up at them, and she curls closer to her father.

The Infirmary is a looming welcoming building, like Anubis's temple is, and he lands in one fluid motion, bending at the knee once again. Brightly clothed healers move around them, others come and go through the entrance, smiling at them in greeting. The Healer rubs at her arm lightly, gesturing for her to follow, and she tugged the blanket around her shoulders closer, nodding softly as he lead her into the Infirmary.

Healers smile as they pass, waving in greeting, whispering words of welcome.

She looks over as he gestures to another figure, bent over a desk as they wrote something in a file opened in front of a younger angel, talking softly to the other, instructing them softly. "Why don't you go see your older brother. He always manages to cheer you up, even in those rarely seen situations that I can't."

Iaso nods, curling the blanket up over her head, and stepped away from his side to cross through the threshold to meet at the others. Blanket and all, she bent slightly, and curled her arms around them. "Hey, Ori."

The writing comes to a stop, the scratching of the quill against the parchment stopped, and she felt him turn slightly, no doubt to look over at the interruption. "Hey, baby girl, give me a minute?" Iaso nods, refusing to let him go, and to accommodate their position, he stands, curling his arm around her lower back in turn. He was still bent forward slightly, but he pulled the file closer so that he could write in it easier, with the young Nephilim curled into his side. "Okay, Ishmael, give him three vials of muscle relaxer, Zed's just about finished with them, and he's free to go on his way. Make sure he comes back next week to get it looked over once again." The young healer in training nodded, darting off to report his orders, and Oren turned his attention to the Nephilim curled around him. "Oh, baby girl, did you guys get in a fight again?"

The Virtue curls his other arm around her, tugging her around, and pulls her in close with a warm embrace. Iaso nuzzles closer, feeling his bristled chin rub against the side of her forehead, he presses a kiss to her temple. "Don't go back to him, this time, you don't deserve being as hurt as he makes you."

"But I love him, Ori."

"You're too young to know what true love is."

The Nephilim sniffles. "You love me, right?"

"With all my heart, baby sister."

"And, I'm not too independent?"

"You're _perfect_ just the way you are."


	17. Reuniting At Long Last

"Aba—"

"Don't call me that."

It's something akin to a tribunal, standing before the commander, his Powers circling behind him at his shoulders, standing at rest. Arms curled behind them, looking straight ahead at her, and she ignored them all. Staring right back at her old commander.

He was trying but she was having none of it.

Michael nods slowly. "My apologies. Abraxas, I called you here to offer you your position back."

She narrows her eyes. "You mean, you offer me the place where I fall under your command again, you, who exiled me from me home." She leans to the side, crossing her arms lightly, glaring at him with all her worth. "Are you that ignorant?"

"I was wrong to do what I had to you. It is a mistake I will regret for my eternal life, one among many, and there is nothing I can do to take back my transgression."

"Damn right there isn't."

Abraxas poked a finger into his chest. "I will _never _follow your commands again." She stood back stiffly, crossing her arms behind her back, and sets her jaw firmly. "I _politely _decline your offer." The others deflate behind him, hurt by her refusal, and her eyes flick to theirs for a moment before returning to the Archangel's before her.

The archangel nods, though he seems downtrodden, she glares at him until he voices his acknowledgement to her choice and steps around her to make his leave, leaving them all alone. The door clicks softly behind him as he leaves, taking her refusal to heart, but knowing he deserved nothing less.

Her green eyes meet those of silver, and she leans forward slightly. "Hey, Abe."

"Aba." He's the first to break their half circle formation, stepping forward, tugging on the front of her tunic until she steps forward and he curls his arms around her tightly. "You won't come back, Aba?"

She winds her arms around him, pressing herself close to his chest, listening to his heart beat under her and the words he speaks rumble against her ear. Her fingers curl into the back of his tunic. "I'm not going anywhere, Abe, I just can't take his orders anymore."

"As much as I want you to come back, I understand."

Abraxas inhales deeply, taking in his scent, the familiar air that she has known since she was a small fledgling. "I missed you, Abe."

"Nothing was the same without you."

"We'll still train together, though, won't we?"

She turns at the other voice, smiling up at her other brother, reaching out to push his stomach lightly. "Of course, we will Nis." He smiles down at her, patting the top of her head fondly, elated at having the youngest Power back among them. Even if it was unofficially. She curls her fingers around Abraxos thick arms, pushing away slightly, bending around the arms that cross over her lower back. "Is my room still where it was?"

"Across from mine?"

"Yea?"

Abraxos leans forward, pressing his lips to her forehead. "No one has touched your room." He rubs his thumbs over her lower back. "It's still yours for the taking."

He kneels suddenly, swooping her off her feet, and she yelps as the ground is swept out from under her. "Come, we'll show you around."

"Abe, I don't think you remember, but I used to live here too."

"Oh, I know, it just gives us an excuse to hang around with you."


	18. Just a Bit Of Convincing

"You've been swinging that sword around since midday." He pants, dropping his arms as he turns to face the one calling out to him, sweat beading down his temple. "And it is long after dark now." There he stands, arms crossed, fingers tapping against his upper arm. "When are you going to call it to an end."

"I have to be ready when I fight for the position as a guard Captain."

"It is a good aspiration to want to be a guard Captain." He leans forward slightly, bending at the waist. "Too bad you are too young."

"There's no rule on age. I've asked."

"I wouldn't allow it. It is ultimately our decision who gets to try for such a place. I would never allow that."

"Then, I'll train harder." His arms shake as he raises his sword again. "Prove that I'm ready." And begins the motions once more, huffing and swinging, spinning and slashing. His companion sighs deeply.

"Alright," he nods in affirmation, prepared for the challenge that's laid before him. "I can see you need some motivation." His arms unfold from over his chest, and he steps forward, walking beside him, coming to stand at his back. The guard falls still as he hears him crack his fingers, his arms raising around both sides for show, and his arms lower slightly to look between both hands, held up and fingers spread. His arms lower even more ever slowly, as he looks between the two hands, watching silently as they slowly lower. The young guard yelps in surprise when the fingers dig into his sides, bending forward at the suddenness, the other following him as he does. "No, no, lift your sword, you want to train so badly, then we'll train." His fingers still. "Come on, lift it."

"Tuhuhus!"

"Lift your sword, Andre."

The young guard does as he's told, cautious lifting his sword again, and the fingers climb up to his ribs. "Tuhhuhus! Stohohop!"

The Power hums quietly. "Hmm, I don't know, should I?"

"Yehehehes!"

"You've lowered your sword again." He digs his fingers into his lower belly. "Lift it back up." His fingers travel around to dig into his flanks. "Lift it, Andre."

The younger angel arches his back, squirming side to side, anything to get away from those relentless fingers. "Tuhuhus! I—I cahahan't!"

"Sure, you can, it's rather easy." He pulls his fingers away, grasping his arms firmly, and lifts them to chest level. "Keep it there."

Andreus nods, giggling still under his breath, and tenses when the fingers return to his sides. They just sit there, resting gently, and he waits on bated breath for what he knows is to come. They jump to his belly and dig in again, spidering over it furiously, and he shrieks in surprise, his arms dropping again, and he tries to jump forward. An arm curls around his waist, tugging him backwards, and he slams himself back against the Power's front as he tries to pry the hand clawing at his belly away. "Tuhuhuhus!"

"I should do this more often." He hums over his shoulder. "You don't laugh nearly enough."

"Stohohohop!" The tip of his sword drops to the dirt under them. "Ihihiht tihihihickles!

"I know it does," he leans in close to whisper in his ear. "That's why I'm doing it."

"Tuhuhuhus! Plehehehehease!"

"I'll tell you what, because you said _'please'_, I'll make you a deal." He finally relents, holding his hand out for him. "You give me the sword, and I'll let you go," he snorts softly in fond amusement. "For now, anyway." Andre nods quickly, placing the hilt of his sword in the Power's hand, Titus curls his fingers around the hilt of the sword and pulls it back, withdrawing his attack. The younger angel curls his arms around himself, still giggling quietly, trying to rub away the remaining tingles. The Power rests the flat of the sword over his shoulder, chuckling at the young giggling guard, curling his arm around his neck as he turns them in the direction of the Pavilion and the Barracks. "Come on you, you're getting cleaned up, and then it's straight to bed."

"How did you even know I was out here?"

Titus nods to the Pavilion above them. "I could see you."

"Are you going to send me back to my barrack?"

The elders fingers rub at his shoulder lightly. "Nah, you can come stay the night with me."

"But you only have one bed."

They look at each other, one up, the other down, and the Power presses his forehead to the young guards. "That's never been a problem before, you little octopus."

"I am not an octopus."

The Power chuckles, leading him up to the stone path that leads to the stairs. "I'd beg to differ. I can't even count the number of times I've looked for the source of the heat against my side, only to look down and see that familiar face of yours, all peaceful and full of the bliss found in comfortable sleep."

"Why do you care about me so much?"

"Because you're mine, kiddo." He rubs his fingers over the back of his head as they step over the final stair, into the empty lounge, the others having retreated to their rooms for the night. "Because, you're mine."


	19. Back In Familiar Arms

She woke to the sun shining through the windows, the curtains pulled back slightly, letting the shine in through tears in the solid shadow that was the block out curtain. Blinking, she looked around the room she hadn't been in for so long, the one that was her home, that was so close to her heart.

Her eyes traveled to her twin short swords, in their sheaths, hanging on the hook next to her door. To the wardrobe, the door hanging ajar, a deep green tunic thrown over the top of the door. Her short boots lay haphazardly kicked off in front of it. The desk next to the wardrobe is covered in sketch pads and pencils.

Her eyes wandered to the window, and what parts of the blue sky she could see peeking in from the part in the curtain, it took her a moment to remember that she was home. She was back where she belonged. Surrounded by family she had missed for so long.

It took a moment, but she sat up, stretching the stiffness of sleep from her muscles and turned to climb out of bed. Pressing her bare feet to the cool stone floor, she looked around her room again and smiled, she was finally back where she belonged and she was never leaving her home again. She yawned, still in the light grasp of sleep, trying to pull her back under, and stood from the edge of her bed. Stretching again, she padded quietly over the stone flooring of her bedroom, to the door that stood ajar. Curling her fingers around it's edge, she pulled it open slightly, wide enough that she could lean out and spy one way down the hall, and then the other, and looked up to the door that was standing slightly ajar across the hall from her.

Crossing to the other side, she curled her fingers around the edge of that door, around the edge of the doorframe, and opened it wide enough that she could lean into that room.

They were still asleep, laying on their side, facing away from her. She could see the faint rise and fall of their shoulders with every breath. She smiled at the sight of them, peaceful and rid of all the worries that they carried on their shoulders, the stresses of instructing new squadrons, the trials that came with being a Power.

She parted from the doorway, leaving the door hanging open wide enough for a lithe frame like hers to fit in, padding softly across the stone floor of his bedroom, bending slightly as she drew closer to the bed. She slid in, crawling up to lay against him, curling her arms under his, around his chest, pressing her nose to his upper back.

His shoulders stiffened, her pressing against him waking him from his light morning slumber, and she felt him shift as he peered over his shoulder to see who had slid in behind him. Sighing deeply, she felt his breath gather in his chest and slowly exhale, he turned. She slid back as he adjusted his position, turning to face her instead, curling one of his arms under her head, she laid on his upper arm, curling her arm back around his middle, he curled his around her shoulders. A bristled chin and a pair of warm lips pressed to her forehead for a solid minute, and then he laid back down. She sighed in the same manner, ducking under his chin, pressing her nose lightly between his collar bones.

How she missed being curled in these arms. Feeling them wrapped around her securely, protectively, holding her close to a warm body. The bristled chin that rubbed against her forehead and cheeks and ears. Missed the scent of leather and pinewood that he smelled like. Missed being in this room surrounded by familiar objects and assorted collections.

He kissed her forehead again. She knew his eyes were still closed. "Good morning, Aba."

"Good morning, Abe." She nuzzled closer. "I missed you."

"You're right across the hall from me."

"But I haven't been for so long."

"I'll always be there for you." He bends down slightly, pressing his nose to hers. "No matter where you're at."

They settle into comfortable silence, his fingers rubbing lightly at her shoulder, and she turns her head, pressing her ear to his chest to listen to his heart beat.

A beat of silence passed. "I missed you too, Aba."

"But I was right across the hall."

"It was too far away for how long you've been away from my side."

Abraxas lifts her head slightly, tilting her head back, and presses a small kiss to the curve of his neck. He smiles, she can feel it, and his grip around her tightens for a moment before releasing slightly. His arms don't move. The youngest, unofficial Power, tucks herself back under his chin. "We're still the same, right?"

"No amount of time, no distance, could break us apart." He adjusts slightly, squirming a moment, before finding a more comfortable position. "You'll always be my little Aba. My little mini me."

She smiles against his neck. "You'll always be my big Abe. My big brother."

They settle into silence again. The others come down the hall talking, crossing in front of the door, too engrossed in a conversation to notice them curled up together in his bed. Their voices fade slowly as they drift further and further away until silence returns. Todays one of those days where the others are free, but the Powers must train, and she knows this.

But she doesn't want to move just yet.

His lips press to her forehead again. "I have to get up, Aba, I've got training."

"Not yet."

She feels him smile. His arms down move away. Don't move in the slightest. "I'll be late."

"Say you're sick."

"Puriel's a medic. He can call my bluff."

"I'll say you're sick."

He smiles against her forehead. "I won't let go until you let go."

"I'm not letting go."

"Then, I won't either."

She smiles against his chest, nuzzling closer, she sighs softly against him. Abraxas feels like she's floating, surrounded by everything she had been taken from for so long, pressed against the living, breathing body of her brother, Abraxos is right there. He's holding her in his arms, curling her close against him, curled around her warmly.

They drift back off to sleep, curled around each other, and only wake again when there's a soft snort in the doorway. Abraxos leans upwards, looking at them from over her head, and Abraxas turned to look over his arm, over her shoulder.

Puriel smiles at them. "I'll say you're sick."


	20. The Trial of the CenturyAgain

The Host stood in the crowded Heart Hall, trying to catch a glimpse of her as they dragged the Mindbreaker in for her second trial, for the crimes committed against the Host and the Council. Chains rattled as they walked her in, a muzzle wrapped securely around her mouth, in similar fashion to the one that little Calathiel wore, keeping her from saying anything should she want to.

The Powers, Virtues, Principalities, and Grigori lines the path she walked. Keeping the others at bay, as they watched her silently tread passed them.

Though they weren't fledglings any longer, the Power Captain's two charges stood at his side, only slightly behind his shoulders, fingers curled into the sleeves of his tunic. Watching her silently cross in front of them, the older of the two ducked behind the Power, and Titus, next to his Captain, closed the gap between them, hiding the young one from view.

The Virtues stood across from them, and in similar fashion, the two young ladies stood behind the one that had claimed them as his. The one who took care of them, gave them a place to belong, who was patient and understanding. Who never yelled and always forgave. Who gave them a home despite how messed up they were. Orion averted her eyes, her fingers curled tightly around the leather belt he wore around his waist, she would be clutching at his hand, had he not been standing at ease with his hands curled around the hilt of his sword. At his other shoulder stood her friend and sister, Gzel stared at the Mindbreaker intensely as she walked before them, as though hoping she could strike her dead with a mere gaze alone. Before them, his fingers curled around the hilt of his sword, Akriel stood up straighter at her passing them, daring her to try and look at his girls. He _dared _her to.

Eyes tracked him, the young guard leading his prisoner down the aisle, he could feel them burning into his skin. He felt disgusted, he was disgusted with himself, being so close to someone so evil, his eyes burned but he bit back the tears that had threatened to fall. After all their family has been through, she had to bring this about, caused so much more heartache and suffering, and for her own pleasure. Andreus wanted to be at his mentor's side, Titus's hand curled over his shoulder, or his arm around his neck, holding him securely and protectively. Everyone who saw them together knew who he belonged to, where he belonged, and who they would answer to if anyone had any thoughts of foul play for him.

She curled her fingers in the back of his tunic, clutching tightly as she crossed before them, watching her walk before her silently, shoulders curled inward, as though in resignation for what was about to happen. This one being had been the cause of her exile, her being cast out of her home, taking _everything _from her. It was only her own self restraint and the knowledge of being stopped by the one whose tunic she clutched that kept her from leaping forward. She was robbed of her title, her position, her honor, her home, her _brothers_. Abraxas had as much right to hold a grudge as anyone whom the Mindbreaker had taken from did. She resented her. _Hated _her. She wanted to run at her. Get at least one solid strike in. But, Abraxos shifted, rolling his shoulders, he adjusted his hold on his sword and she looked down as he reached a hand back, curling her fingers around his palm, he curled his around hers, and gave a reassuring squeeze.

_I'm here._

She squeezed his hand back in return.

_I know._

They led her to the center, a raised portion, where the four thrones of the Archangels sat, the Council convened.

She looked down at the scroll she held, then touched the tips of her fingers to her lips, _his _trial had already come to pass, but this was the one who _allowed_ it to happen, who had made it so the opportunity could come to pass. Turning slightly, she curled the fingers of her other hand around the scroll tightly and sought out the eyes of the one who led the scribes, the Messenger smiled encouragingly, giving her a nod for strength.

Ishariel had this.

She could do this.

Turning back around, she straightened up, set her shoulders, and stared down at the accused below her.

Naomi stared up at her in silence.

Ishariel licked her lips, long since healed from the sewing that had been done and unraveled the scroll.

"Naomi, angel of healing and trauma, you stand before the Council at the face of recompence for the crime of Treason."

The scribe turned to face the gathered host, all watching her as she announced the proceedings for them all the hear, looking up from her scroll as though she had memorized this part.

"We are not here today to prove the question of guilt, that has been proven by self-incrimination and the events that took place before this time of peace, this is a determination of punishment for the crimes committed by the accused before us today."

Nodding, her job semi complete, she turned to look at the Head Archangel. Michael smiled at her, nodding in appreciation to her announcing the proceeding, and turned his attentions to the accused.

"Seeing as it was his gesture that was abused, I believe it best if the Healer were to proclaim what shall be done with you."

Eyes turned from the eldest to the third born.

He sat in his throne, his right elbow resting on the armrest, his chin pressed against his palm, as he watched them all thoughtfully. There was something in his eyes though, the quiet sort of anger simmering, the most dangerous kind of anger. "I am speechless." The Healer sat up straighter. "The gifts that I bestowed upon you were turned into something vile and disgusting. I have never been so _disgusted_. There are no words to be used to express how I despise you." He stood without prompting, and there was a collective intake of breath, even the other three archangels seemed surprised by his sudden motion. "You _used _me. My kindness. My _generosity_. All that I am, you used it against me." He reached back for his blade, tucked in the belt around his waist, gripping it tightly in his hand as he pulled it back around. "You experimented on our family, you used sacred teachings that I gave you against their purpose, turning something so pure into something so tainted." He stalked down the steps leading to the center, slowly, one at a time. A predator stalking its prey.

The other three archangels stood up from their Thrones, gathering above him, as he took control of the proceedings.

Ishariel turned to look at them for instruction. The punishment was already determined. This was not what was said to happen.

Raphael came to stand before her, towering over her, a looming figure. He took her chin in hand firmly. "You shall never use your gifts against another again. If you decide it is in your power to abuse others with your grace." He slit a stretch of skin just under her jugular, in the precise way that was needed to get to the grace within the angel, and not bring them to bleed to death. He twitched his fingers slightly and the grace slowly seeped out, evaporating as it dripping freely, her knees wobbled at the sudden head rush and the only thing keeping her truly upright was his hold on her. "Then you will lose the privilege of having it."

He let her go, watching with distaste as she crumpled to the floor, and reached back to tuck his blade back into his belt. The grace wouldn't seep all at once, it would be a slow process, and she would feel it continually drain bit by bit.

"Cast her out."


	21. Good Boys Get Toys

He padded up the stone steps softly, leading himself up to the empty lounge, where the burning embers of a fire slowly died in the fireplace. He padded passed the cushioned benches and fluffy pillows. Over the soft blankets that lay strewn over the floor.

Stopping at the bar, he took a drink from his bowl, and turned his way down the hall.

Doors were slightly ajar as he passed them, one room was empty and the one across from it had two mounds on the bed, another had two mounds too, one room had someone spread out on their bed, completely sprawled. There was a light flickering in one room, someone was still awake, sitting at the desk, facing away from him working on something his eyes were not privy too. The one next to him had a light flickering too, but they were asleep, a book covering their face.

And then there was the door at the end. It too was slightly ajar. There was two beds in the room, but only one was used these days, the other still there should those owners decide to come spend the night. A light was gently flickering over the room, casting it in a warm glow, the only occupant sitting up in bed reading through a thick old volume.

He huffs softly, turning into the room, trotting over the floor and jumped up on the bed. His companion chuckles, setting his book down, and reaching a hand out for him.

"Hello, Era." He huffs, licking his fingers at they reach up to scratch behind his ear. "Did you have an exciting day?" The hound nods, nudging at his hand, and he smiles as he begins scratching anew. The angel hound huffs, hopping off the bed, heading for the large pillow in the corner, and picks up a stuffed toy bunny. He carries it proudly back to the bed, jumping back up, and drops it on his friends lap. "I see you've guilted someone into getting you a new toy."

Erathaol growls playfully, nipping at his beloved new toy, and the Power chuckles fondly at him. "You love your new toy, don't you?"

He smiles when the angel hound presses his new toy into his hand. "Yes, yes, it's a very nice bunny."

The Power leans over to set his book on the side table. "Are you going to sleep on your bed on the floor, or, up here with me?" His hound companion whines and nudges his hand. "You can sleep up here, but you know you can't do it in hound form."

The angel hound is quick in changing forms, lunging forward, pulling his stuffed bunny with him, and curling around the Power.

"Thanks for the bunny, Nis."

"Only for you, Era."


	22. Just Up To No Good

His older charge was a troublemaker, he knew as much, he'd been allowed to spend much too much time with Haniel while growing up, which turned him into the mess he was now. But he was a good boy, he didn't mean any harm, not usually.

So, when word had spread to him of the cruel prank played against a soul that just so happened to be in the same squadron as him, he knew without a doubt who was responsible for their trying time.

He sighed deeply, rubbing a hand over his face, nodding to himself as he stood from his desk. This had to be addressed personally, it had been a personal affront, that would be dealt with swiftly. He turned the corner of the doorframe out of his office, walking at a steady pace from the part of the Pavilion he was currently stationed in, and took the stairs easily as he made his way down them, to the dirt field below them where the others trained under the elders instructions.

He crossed the training field silently, staring at the query of his interest, at the back of his head as he followed through the motions given.

His person of interest yelped when he snapped out and snagged him by the ear, his fists unraveling in favor of reaching for his hand instead, the Captain of the Power's tugged him around by the ear, smiling at him in greeting. "Hello, Paul."

The boy's eyes widen, fingers falling limp around his wrist. "Hey, Nis."

"I think we should have a word together, don't you?"

"Um, no, no, I think we're good."

"Let's go." The Power pulls him forward, away from his partner, nodding at Abraxos as they pass. Paul follows dutifully, if not just for the tone, but also for the obvious grip he has on his ear. "Yes, Sir." They march passed the other training classes, passed the more seasoned warriors, up to the stone veranda under the Pavilion. Paul almost trips up the stairs in his attempts to keep up with the tall Power's stride, and his fingers tighten drastically around his guardians wrist as he nearly falls, Nisroc catches him by the scruff of his tunic with his free hand and lifts him back to his feet swiftly.

They push the door open, well, Nisroc pushes the door open. "Sit."

Paul rubs at his ear but rushes forward to find himself a seat in one of the chairs across the desk from the Power's leather seat, waiting in silence for him to say what he needs to say. Nisroc shakes his head lightly, closing the door behind him, crossing around the desk to sit in the leather chair behind it.

He leans back, crossing his arms loosely, the fingers of his right hand tapping against his left forearm. "Why don't we start with what happened in the barrack today?"

Paul held his hands up placatingly. "I can explain!"

"Yes," he nods, still tapping his arm lightly. "Please, I would love to hear you explain this one."

"I can explain!" It was a struggle though. No explanation would appease his guardian. Nothing would sway his viper like temper. His grand prank hadn't been meant for amusement.

"Go ahead." He waved with one hand. "I'm not stopping you."

Paul floundered for a moment, his mouth opening and closing quite a number of times, and he drew back tensely. "I can't explain."

Nisroc nodded stiffly. "Well, then, let _me _explain." He leans forward quickly, uncrossing his arms on one fluid motion, and slams his hand down on the desk. "_What _have I told you about playing those _pranks _of yours!"

"It was _just _a prank!"

"It was _malicious!_" He points a finger up at him. "And you _know _it!"

"Well, he _deserved _it! He's been _poking _and _poking_! It's about time someone did something!"

"You should have come to me. I would have handled it."

Paul shoots from his seat, leaning over the desk, poking him harshly in the chest. "Yea, you would've taken on a new _pet project_! That's how you _handle it_! Sasha told me _all _about _little Donavon_!"

"I don't need your permission to take someone under my wing." He speaks stiffly, his fingers flexing into fists, and he looks up at him with a heat in his eyes. "Step back. Lower your finger. And watch how you speak to me."

"Why! You going to _'take me under your wing' _too!"

"I don't _need _to take you under my wing." He stands with him, calmly, his anger a slow burning fire. "I've already _claimed _you. You are _mine_. And you will _not _disrespect me."

"Oh yea! What are _you _gonna do!"

Nisroc huffs, nodding his head as he crosses out from behind his desk, and Paul watches him silently as he crosses passed him, his eyes widening when he reaches for the extra belt hanging on the hook near the door. "Allow me to show you what I'm going to do about it."

"Nis no! No! Nis don't!"

"Oh, where is this big _bad _young man, now?" He takes him by the arm. "The one who thinks they can do so _disrespectful _to me and not worry about the consequences."

Paul stumbles as he's forced around, hands grappling to pull the hand off from around his arm and to cover his bottom for protection. "No! No, Nis! I'm sorry! It won't happen again!"

"No, it won't, over." He's pushed against the desk, and Paul braces himself against it. "Nis, no! Let's talk about this!"

"We are done talking. I was going to let you go with a mere scolding. But then you had to get mouthy."


	23. Hold You Through the Night

She feels it before she sees it, the change in the atmosphere is a slight adjustment, it wouldn't have been felt by someone who wasn't as close to her as she was. It was enough to bring a ripple to her own calm dreams, and her eyes open quickly to see what has caused such unseen distress.

Her sister is asleep next to her, theres nothing in their room that could have possibly brought about the fearful emotion she was giving off to those directly around her, and she watched her carefully. Her eyes were flitting behind her closed eyelids, as though looking at a picture she wouldn't bare witness to, and her fingers clutched, flexing, at the blanket curled around her shoulders. She just watches her sister for a long moment, wondering if she'll pull herself out of whatever is causing this sudden change in mood, and then she whimpered, and Gzel was sure that she needed help pulling herself out of whatever had trapped her.

The unstable angel slowly pushed the blankets back, and slowly willed herself out of bed, bending slightly at the waist, she pulled herself up to her feet and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

Their companion, the one that gave them hope, that gave them family, slept in the bed next to theirs. On his side, facing away from them, curled under the blankets, snoring softly as he slept.

Crossing around the beds, to the side he faced, Gzel rubbed a hand over her forehead and collapsed on the side of the bed. It startled him awake, he jumped up at the sudden shake of his bed, and rubbed sleep from his eyes in confusion when Gzel reached up to tug at his tunic.

"Yes, G, what can I do for you?"

She points at him, or more aptly, to the one behind him. "Rio's having a nightmare."

"What?" He turns to look over at his other girl. She doesn't move, but he can see the muscles constricting and releasing, she's tense from whatever plagues her mind. He stares at her a moment, and nods his head slightly, he knew this was a thing when he took them in. "You sleep here, alright?"

"Okay Ak."

The Virtue rolled off the other end, crossing over the short distance to the other bed, kneeling beside his young charge. "Orion?" She doesn't answer, but her grip on the blanket tightens, he can see the muscles in her face grow tense. "Rio, it's just a dream," her face slowly relaxes at the sound of his voice, the muscles slowly unclenching. "That's it, it's just a dream, Rio, come back to me?" Her eyes flutter softly. "Come home to me, Rio, come to Ak."

Her eyes flew open so suddenly. "Ak?"

"I'm here, baby girl, I'm right here."

His little healer turned slightly, glancing over her shoulder, and he smiles softly. "Scoot over." She slides over, from her side to Gzel's, and he climbs in next to her and raises his arm. "C'mere." Orion crawls closer, curling against his side, sighing at the feeling of his arm curling around her and pulling her in tight. She curls around him, like an octopus, resting her head on his chest and clutching the front of his tunic. His fingers scratch at her arm lightly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Orion shakes her head silently, and he leans over, kissing her temple lightly. "Okay. But we'll talk come morning, okay?" She nods at that. She wants to talk about it. Just not now. "Good girl, go back to sleep now, I'll protect you from the bad dreams."

"You'll stay?"

"I'm never going to leave you."


	24. The Case of the Missing Pullover

"Gzel?" He sifted through his wardrobe for what felt like the thousandth time in a single moment. "Have you seen my pullover?"

There was a beat of silence. "Nooo."

His hands came to a standstill. "You're wearing it, aren't you?" Turning to look at her, she smiled slightly, covering her mouth with the balled up sleeves she curled in her hands. Shaking his head, smiling in fond amusement, the Virtue turned to reach for his leather jacket instead. Of course, then he sought out his scarf, and frowned when he couldn't find _that_. "Where's my _scarf_?"

He knew she shrugged behind him and he stilled again, heaving a sigh. "Rio's wearing it, isn't she?"

"Maybe…..?"

Shrugging, appeased that someone was getting use from it at least, someone he cared deeply for no less, he turned back to face her. "Ready?"

The unstable angel nodded, climbing off her bed, stretching out the tension that had formed from her position. She reached out for his hand, and he gladly offered it out, curling his fingers around hers as she grasped his hand softly. Gzel had started helping him in the Infirmary, saying she'd rather help people then hurt them, the same reason Orion chose to become a healer after everything she'd been through and witnessed. Squeezing her fingers lightly, he guided them from their room, down the empty hall for the lounge of the Loft, and towards the stairs at the other side.

Side by side, they descended to the Infirmary floor below them, it was a lazy day, not as busy as they usually were. It allowed them to reorganize and restock inventories that needed restocking, Zed out in the atrium around the back picking herbs and such for his tonics, Zaveriel folding blankets and tunics to put in their designated cabinet, Oren was organizing the files and volumes in the grand book shelf at the other end of the hall, everyone found a task to be doing. And those that didn't have a task to complete caught up with one another, read through one of the books for the shelf in the back, Orion sat at his desk creating something in her sketch journal.

"What are you going to do today, Gzel?"

She looked up at him thoughtfully. "I'm going to help Oren with the books."

"Good girl." He pat the back of her head as she turned to head off and complete the self-assigned task. Akriel stood there long enough to watch her greet his Captain, Oren smiled down at her, squeezing her close to his side a moment, and nodded when she gestured to the piles of books around them. Knowing she was in good hands, he turned for his other girl, bent over her journal completely, everything else having faded to the background. He followed the trail to his desk, silently crossing to stand behind her, smiling at her lack of notice. "Whatcha working on?"

Orion jumped, startled out of her intense concentration, and spun around in his seat. He took quick notice of his missing scarf and tugged at the end that hung over her shoulder. "Nice scarf."

"I found an interesting flower in the atrium when I was helping Zed pick herbs." It was a slow process, but they were starting to open up to the others. Small steps at a time. "Does it look okay?" She lifted her book up for him to see, and he smiled proudly, running his finger over the intricate design and detail. "It's beautiful, Rio, absolutely exquisite."

She beamed at him, a mile's worth of progress, so much more expressive then when they first started working together. "What chore did you accomplish this morning?"

His little healer gestured to the beds in their section. "I changed out the sheets and made the beds."

"All of them?" He frowned lightly as he turned to look at them all. "On your own?"

"No. Inca helped me."

Nodding in acknowledgement, he reached his hand up, curling it around the other side of her head, and pulled her closer to press a kiss to the side of her head. "Great job."

"Thanks, Ak."

"Always, Sunshine."

She smiled up at him, turning to peck his chin lightly, Orion was a very bright person. Once you got passed the cautious exterior, she was a very warm soul, her smile was contagious, her laughter sweet as nectar, and it was all for him to bare witness to. At the moment anyway, they were starting to open up to the others, right now they were working with Zed. He let her pick flowers from his atrium garden.

"What chore have you done, Ak?"

He narrows his eyes playfully. "I just got down here. Someone took my pullover. And then, I come to find _someone _took my scarf, when that little miss _someone _has one of her own."

"Yours is softer."

"It's made from the same spool of wool." She smiles up at him, and he leans forward to kiss her nose lightly. "Is this the same thing that you two have with _my_ bed?"

Orion giggles lightly, a soft fluttering sound, the soft jingle of a small bell. She nods in affirmation and he chuckles. "You have to do your chore, Ak, it's important."

"Who's the guardian in this relationship?"

The little healer giggles again, reaching for the large stack of papers he'd collected, and put off doing for as long as he could. Akriel holds his hands out as she drops them into his grasp, and he huffs deeply. "Paper work?"

"You have to do it."

"But it's _boring_."

Her smile brightens his heart. "That's why _you_ have to do it."

"Are you saying I'm boring?"

She giggled again, closing her journal quickly, and hopped up from the chair she sat in. "Coming G!"

"No one called your name, you little mouse."

"She did! I heard her!"

"Oh, I'll show you _'boring'_. Maybe not now, but don't forget whose room you return to after night falls." He sits in his chair, settling the thick pile of paper in front of him, winking at her playfully. "I can wait. I'm very patient."

Orion giggles, brightly, pulling a spare chair away from the wall behind him to sit on his other side. "I'll keep you company while you work."

"Your company is much appreciated."

"You're welcome."


	25. Far From An Abomination

There was a soft hesitant knock on his office door and seeing as he wasn't in the middle of anything of great importance, the Power looked up from the pages he'd been sifting through. Paper work, lots and lots of paper work, he'd use anything he could as an excuse to put it off. He quirked his head to the side at the sight of the Nephilim, the Healer's daughter, looking about his office with great interest, he knocked his knuckles against the desk top to gain her attention.

They shared a smile. "Hello, Iaso."

"Hi, Uncle Nisroc."

He leaned forward on his elbows. "What can I do for you?"

"Ava needs you."

That caught his attention quickly, a seriousness taking hold quickly at his Nephilim's name, and he leans forward even more so. "What's happened?"

"Well," she scratched a hesitant finger against the wooden doorframe. "We took in some new ones last week."

"And?"

"And some of them found out about Ava, being, you _know_." He face scrunches up in disgust, he knows it not be directed to her friend, but to those that harmed her. "They said some…Nasty things to her about it. She locked herself in her room and won't come out."

"They hurt her?" The Captain stands slowly from his desk, paperwork pushed to the backburner, his Nephilim daughter took priority over everything, she was his baby girl after all.

Iaso nods softly. "I would go in to be with her, but she locked the door and I can't just," she snapped her fingers. "And poof, I'm in, and Anubis says I'm not allowed to break anymore doors in his temple." She makes a face. "I only broke _one_."

"I'll go check on her." He pats her cheek as he steps passed her in the doorway to his office, pausing if only for a moment. "You _broke _a door?"

The Healer's daughter giggles softly, nodding her head. "Yea."

Shaking his head, he left it at that, turning to make his way to the open skies of the training field.

…

He enters her room cautiously, searching her out immediately, and nodded when he located her. There his little girl lay, curled up in the smallest of balls in the middle of her bed, wrapped tightly in her favorite blanket. It had been a gift from him on her birthday.

"Baby girl?"

The mound twitched slightly. "Papa?"

He crosses the room swiftly, kneeling beside her, on the edge of her bed, and he tugs the blanket down from over her head and sighs deeply. It hurts him to see his youngest so forlorn, the tear track shining over her cheeks, her bright bubbly eyes so downcast. Ava blinks up at him and he smiles to her as gently as he can, tilting his head to the side. "Hey, baby girl."

"Papa." She uncurls slightly, reaching out for him, and he takes her into his embrace without hesitation. Leaning back against the pillows on her bed, he pulled her up close against his chest, tucking her head under his chin, stroking the back of her head softly. "Tell me what happened, my little one, tell papa what happened."

She sniffles, rubbing at her nose with the back of her hand, nodding against his chest. "They…They said I was an abomination, papa, that….that I was wrong." She looked up at him and he kissed the tip of her nose. "Am I an abomination? Am I…Am I _wrong_?"

"Absolutely not." There was no hesitation in his response, absolutely none, she was his world. "It does not matter who you chose to love." He brushes his nose against his adopted daughters. "It only matter if you _are _loved."

"You love me no matter what?"

"Nothing will ever stop me from loving you." The Captain rubs his hand down the back of her head. "You are my baby girl." They stare at each other for a long moment. "My _youngest_. I don't very much care who you decide to give your heart to, whether they be female or male, all I care about is that they treat you right."

She smiles up at him, leaning forward to kiss his nose softly, and he smiled down at her. "You're the best, papa."

"I'm not nearly as great as you are." He gently guides her head back to rest on his chest. "Now, tell papa what their names are. I want to meet them."

…

"Aaron, Matt?"

"What abomin—" They turned to sneer at the abomination, words falling short at the sight of the tall muscular man that stood just behind her, Ava smiled at them proudly. "Have you met my dad yet?"

They recognized the symbol of the charm he wore around his neck. Jordan had a similar one in the form of a ring.

"Your…Your dad is a _Power_?"

Ava crosses her arms, looking rather smug, enjoying their horror. "My dad's the _Captain._"

The tall man, her father, the _Captain of the Powers, _stepped forward and curled the fingers of his right hand over her shoulder protectively.

"Hello, my name is Nisroc, what's this about you calling my daughter an _abomination_?"


	26. Good Time Good Life

The strobe lights made him squint as he adjusted to them, the club was in full swing, bodies pressed close as people danced and drinks going all around, he sought out the one he had come for. It didn't take him long to find who he sought for, being the life of the party, and quite attractive, it was not unusual for others to flock around her.

He crossed his arms, feeling his nerves rise at the sight of her, the least she could was wear something a bit more modest. There was no reason to have all of herself revealed. He frowned, anger rising in him, when a man got rather too close to her. He was inebriated, that much was evident, and he fumed as he watched her raise a hand to push him away.

Fists curling tightly at his sides, he marched forward, no one touched his dearest baby sister in such a way. Especially someone as lowly as this.

"Excuse me." He shoved the man back, squaring him up, and ignored the gasp of surprise from the young lady sitting on the bar top. "You need to stop touching her."

The inebriated man slurred, reaching forward to push him back. "Hey man! We're just having a good time!" He smiled at the girl behind him and she sneered in disgust. "Aren't we, sweetheart!"

"You disgust me, you fucking freak."

"You little bitch!"

He caught the man by the collar as he tried to rush around him, hauling him back around to face him, and he leaned in close this time, grimacing at the stench of alcohol on his breath. "You will _never _touch another woman in such a way. And you will never talk to another woman in such a way. Do I make myself clear?" The man sneered drunkenly at him. "Who are you—" He let a bit of his grace seep through, his eyes glowing brightly, steam rising from the fist he had around the man's collar. "Do I make myself _clear_?"

The man stared at him with wide eyes, stuttering as he nodded his head. "I get it, man! Sure! You got it!"

"Good." He shoves him away harshly and the man stumbles over his feet. "Now, leave."

The man stumbles away, at as best a run as he can manage, and he sighs as he turns back for his charge. She smiles at him, sipping at a fruity cocktail, twisting the skinny straw with her tongue. He crosses his arms as he turns back around to cross the small parting that separates them. "Hey, Micha."

"Asariel, why do you insist on hanging about in places like these?"

"I like the music." She takes another sip. "And the drinks."

He sighs, shaking his head fondly, and holds his hand out to her. She holds up a finger, silently commanding him to wait a minute, and presses the edge of the glass to down the rest of her drink in one gulp. Her small fingers curl around his and she hops down from the bar top, turning to pick up her sparkling jacket, he turns to guide them out of the rush, her long pony tail swinging with every step. He pushes the door open with his free hand, guiding her out into the cool night air of The Strip, though bodies still pass them, the congestion isn't so bad.

The older archangel drops her hand for a moment to shrug off his own jacket, twisting it around to drape over her shoulders, she gripped the edges and pulled it around her snuggly. "Would you please wear clothes?"

"I am wearing clothes, Micha."

"_Proper _clothes."

"Aww, Micha, I love my clothes though." She scratched a finger over her sleeve. "They're so sparkly."

Michael chuckled softly, shaking his head again when she turned to continue one, whether or not he was following. Smiling in amusement, he stepped forward, bending at the knee, and tugged her backwards. Asariel stumbled backwards, and he scooped her up, sweeping her off her feet. Asariel shrieked softly, curling her arms around his neck quickly, smiling at him at the sudden change of position. "I'll give you that, they are sparkly." He kisses her nose playfully. "Come home with me?"

"Are we gonna have a good time?"

"The best."

She lays her head on his shoulder. "I'll come home with you, then."

…

His room was greeted with a bright shriek, the younger archangel pushing against his shoulder, as he kissed the side of her neck playfully. "Micha, stop!" He shakes his head and she shrieks again, wiggling and squirming, kicking out to force him into dropping her. But he met her challenge, bending at the knee slightly, he paused, and as he sprung up he tossed her upwards. Asariel shrieked at the sudden loss of gravity, kicking out and winding her arms as she was tossed into the air.

The older archangel caught her arms the waist, his arms crossing under her bottom, holding her up over his head. She giggles excitedly, curling her fingers around his shoulders, and he kisses her bare belly lightly.

"You want to have a good time?" She giggles, nodding silently, and he kisses her belly again. "Remember what happened last time you wore a shirt like this?" The young girl giggles again, nodding one more, and he smiles up at her. "Good." And she shrieks when he buries his face into her belly. She squeals in laughter when he takes a deep breath and blows against her belly. She tugs at his hair lightly, and he pulls away, peering up at her at the silent request for his attention. "No!"

"No raspberries?"

She shakes her head and he chuckles. "Okay." He kisses her belly softly and she giggles at the feeling. "Can I give you kisses?" He smiles endearingly when she giggles again and gives a slight nod, leaning in to kiss her belly again. "I can settle for that." He presses kisses all over her belly, bringing her to a state of steady giggles, and walks forward for his bed. He knows his bedroom and it's layout like the back of his hand.

Asariel shrieks as they fall, she flings her arms out as she falls backwards, bouncing against the older archangels bed. Michael smiles up at her. "You want to play a game?"

She nods, giggling softly, and he chuckles at her adoringly. "I like games."

"I know you do." He presses a kiss to her belly again and she giggles harder. "I'm going to kiss your belly, and every giggle you give, will be one minute of this." He digs ten fingers into her belly, and she squeals brightly, arching her back at the sensation, her hands flying forward to clutch at his fingers, it didn't cause any inhibition. He stills his fingers after a moment of playful torture. "You want to play the game?"

Asariel nods. "Bring it on!" She takes a deep breath and curls her hands over her mouth. He chuckles at her expression, her concentration, the concentration to not giggle.

It didn't take long, it had always made her giggle, ever since she was a small mischievous fledgling, when he kissed her belly. And it was without sorrow that he dug his fingers into her belly. They played this game for some time, enjoying the time they got to spend alone together, uninterrupted.

He leaves her sprawled on his bed, breathing heavily, giggling continuously, her arms wrapped around her belly protectively. Michael smiles to himself as he turns on her for a moment, fishing one of his tunic from his wardrobe, and turns back to her. She's still giggling lazily, airily, and he winks at her playfully as he tosses his tunic on her. "Get changed."

Turning to give her privacy, the older archangel hums under his breath, he knows Asariel is following his order. He hears her toss her boots aside, they thud softly against the stone floor, and then small arms curl around him from behind. Peering over his shoulder, he smiles down at her, taking in her own smile as she leans against his back. "Want to take a nap?"

"Naps are for old angels!"

"Fledglings take naps too."

She huffs slightly. "I'm not a fledgling."

"No?" He turns, hooking his hands under her arms, and she hops up as he lifts her. She's too big to carry around like this, resting on his hip, against his stomach, but he holds her there anyway. "You'll always be that mischievous fledgling that used to hide under my bed for me."

"I guess I can take a nap with you." She tilts her head. "But, can we not call it a _'nap'_?"

"What shall we call it then?"

"A _'siesta'_!"

"Alright," he walks them back to his bed, loosening his grip so that she falls slightly, and he tucks her against his chest as he drops them back on his bed. "Let's take a _'siesta'_."


	27. The Silent Scream

"Inca, could we please have a word with you?"

Had he expected a verbal response he was surely disappointed when the young healer barely nodded, coming to stand at his side, waiting for him to lead the way to his office. Nodding at the silent acknowledgement, the archangel curled a hand over his shoulder, guiding him forward, away from the patients he'd been caring for. Other healers quickly replaced his presence, some turned to watch as he was guided from where he'd been completing his duties, in the direction of the archangel's office. Inca ducked his head, avoiding their eyes, trying to drown out their whispers.

He heard them, all their insults, their accusations, their assumptions. He knew that none of them liked him, they thought he was too haughty to respond to them and their calls, and every time he turned away from them, as to not see the ridicule in their eyes at his lack of verbal acknowledgement. It hurt him to hear their whispers, how much they disliked him, and he always seemed to disappear for a short time after such altercations. He'd clench his fists, bite back the tears that threatened to fall, and bury himself back into his work.

Even after being released from his captivity he was still in isolation.

He looked at the others nervously as they entered the Healer's office, there was only two, he recognized the Captain of the Virtues immediately. They all knew him, like they knew the back of their hands, he never whispered things under his breath when he called to him and never responded, he would just look at him strangely and move on. Beside him was his direct Head, he knew him too, Akriel was kind. He always spoke so kindly to him, never seeming to mind that he never spoke kindly back in return, he just ruffled his hair and continued on through his tasks and assigning their patients.

Inca recognizes Orion. She talks to him softly, he knows a lot about her, almost all of her secrets. She glances at him nervously and shakes her head.

It wasn't her who told.

The Healer gestures to the chair before his desk. "Have a seat." Inca nods silently, timidly lowering himself down into the chair, its comfortable, there's a cushion on it. The Healer nods to those behind him and he feels them draw nearer, they come to stand behind him, he knows it. He fidgets nervously, wringing his hands together. Raphael steps around the edge of his desk, sitting in the large leather chair behind it, leaning back, resting his arms on the armrests.

"Inca, I'm not sure how to put this, there have been some complaints." He rubs his thumb and index finger together. "You are a nice boy, and I would not think you would, but do you think you are better than them?"

Someone had told on him, told the Healer, that he was merely ignoring them all. That he thought he was above them in station. They had told him about what the whispered about him, when his back was turned, when they thought he couldn't hear them.

He could.

He always heard them.

Inca shakes his head, looking down to his hands, shrugging his shoulders tightly. Someone hums over his head, he recognizes the hum, he knows the pitch and the tone, he knows who hummed. A hand comes to rest on his head lightly, pulling it back gently, and he comes to stare up at the Captain standing behind him.

Oren smiles down at him, lifting his hands, so he can see them. "Inca?" He tilts his head at the question, looking at his hands as they begin to move. _'You can't speak, can you?'_

He can't help it, he stares at his hands, as they rest in his line of sight. He knows they're waiting for him to respond, now that someone has asked such a question, they all wait on bated breath for the answer. But tears prick at his eyes, there's someone here that he can talk to, someone who knows how to talk to him, who knows what he'll say when he tries to tell them. Someone there to keep him company in his imposed isolation. The Captain smiles sadly, reaching forward to rub a tear away when it escapes, Akriel looks surprised, as though the thought had never crossed his mind, and there was no blame that could be placed for that fact. Orion's buried her face in her hands.

She knows.

The oldest Virtue comes around from behind him, and he watches him silently, tears trailing from his eyes, watching as he comes to kneel at his side. _'You can't talk.'_

Inca shakes his head, his hands shaking as he lifts them. _'You know…You know how to silent speak?'_

The elder smiles, nodding in response. _'I do. We all do. Why didn't you ever say anything?'_

_'I didn't want you to think I wasn't fit.'_

He shakes his head and Inca inhales deeply. _'Never. You're are a wonderful healer.'_

"Inca, is it true?" The young healer spins at the archangel's voice, his eyes wide at the realization that more know the silent speak then he thought they did, nodding cautiously. "Well, that explains that." He leans forward against his desk in curiosity. "If you don't mind me asking, were you created that way?"

He shakes his head again. _'No. Naomi did it.'_

"How so?"

Inca presses a hand to his throat, tilting his head back, and they can see the scar when he does. _'She cut my vocal cords. She called me a secret keeper.' _He rubs a hand over the incision area. _'She said I was good for gathering intel and never betraying the knowledge.' _He averts his eyes. _'She did it after the Eldest was taken. I saw her. I knew everything she had done. She wanted to make sure I couldn't say anything.'_

They all sit for a tense moment of silence.

"That cruel bitch." They all turn to the Healer in shock, having never heard him use that kind of language before, to see his temper turn so suddenly. He clenches his hands into fists, banging them once on the top of his oak desk, shaking his head in disgust. "I _despise _her with the very core of my being. The _harm _and _suffering _she has caused so many people." He shakes his head, turning to like back at his young healer before him. "You know you didn't deserve that treatment, yes?"

_'I guess…'_

Oren takes his hand, shaking his head firmly. "You didn't, Inca. I can't begin to imagine how you must feel. Being so isolated in your own little world because no one can hear you screaming. Well, no more, I hear you, little Inca." He shakes his head. "Do you hear me loud and clear? I hear you. We will talk every day. You will never know that isolation again."

Inca stares at him, his eyes watering once more, tears gathering. No one's been this nice to him since he came here, no one's understood, no one's _heard _him. Oren smiles at him, wiping a tear away as it falls again, and guides him to his feet. "I hear you, Inca." He pulls him into a warm embrace, to offer comfort and privacy for his breaking down like this. Inca breaths a sob, curling around the Virtue Captain, clutching at his tunic as tight as he can manage. He's the one that threw him a line, that tried to understand, who has been turning his mind over the silent mystery that was the little healer; Inca.

Akriel's eyes were wide, he knew they were, surprise having taken hold of him. There would be shame next, shame that he had not known that one of _his _healers was suffering a silence that had been cruelly reigned down on him.

"I'm sorry." They turned, Inca felt Oren move as he did, his arms tightening around him, to look at the other young healer. Orion looked truly troubled, and Akriel turned, leaning to the side as he pressed a hand to the small of her back. She was shivering in shame. "I knew. I knew and I never told. Inca asked me not to and I agreed. I shouldn't have. It was wrong. I'm sorry."

"You knew?"

Orion nods slowly. "That's why we pass files so often. We write notes to each other. I don't know how to speak the silent speak. So we write."

Inca calms after a long moment, pressing his ear to the Virtue's chest, listening to his heart beat under him. He feels his elder press his hand to the back of his head, and he pulls away, Oren smiles down at him. "Feel better?" He nods shyly, feeling a faint warmth come over his cheeks, he's blushing. "You must be bursting at the seams, having so much you want to say, share a secret. Give us something."

He looks between them all, eyes landing on the Healer, and he raises an eyebrow at the attention. _'The beds in the dorms are uncomfortable.'_

The two Virtues laugh at his admission, his archangel chuckles in amusement, nodding at his admission. "Thank you for the notice. I will look into it immediately." Inca smiles, nodding silently, a drastic change from the quiet timid thing they had seen when he'd first joined them. Oh, the change that can be made when being able to communicate with someone. Oren pets the back of his head, letting him press his ear back to his chest, his voice rumbles as he speaks. "Do you have any dorm mates?"

Inca shakes his head. He doesn't see it, but they're frowning, no one should be along, isolated, because of something they cannot control.

"You come stay with me, then." He looks up immediately, his eyes wide, and the older healer nods in affirmation. "I'll take you, then, they clearly don't know who they're losing. They don't deserve you if they're going to shun you."

_'Come stay…Come stay with you?'_

He nods. "I could use a companion myself, and you'd be perfect, if you'd want to."

The younger healer nods quickly, pressing himself back against the Virtue, the only one who truly reached out. The one that took the time to come to the conclusion and test his theory. The only one that thought to try. "I'll take that as a _'yes'_, then." He scratches at the back of his head. "We'll get you a bed immediately, something much more comfortable then your dorm bed, I promise." He smiles, a silent giggle coming from him, it rumbles in his chest. "Come, let's go get your things, we'll get you comfortable." Oren turns, curling his arm around his shoulders, pulling him close against his side. Inca smiles widely, happier then they've seen him since his arrival, and it warms their hearts.

Raphael smiles as they depart.

His Captain will take good care of the silent healer.


	28. Restablishing Relationships

"Hello, Donavon."

He spares the younger angel a glance as he enters his office, reading through the files of the newest trainees under their command and guidance, smiling as he listens to the younger angel hum as he looks through the interesting books he's collected over his lifetime and travels. He gets a book from every place he's sent, Earth, other Galaxies, he takes one as a souvenir.

Happy to share them with any who are interested.

"Hello, sir."

The Captain falls still for a moment, his eyes flitting up to stare at the back of the youth's head, and as though he felt the gaze on him, Donavon turns to meet his gaze over his shoulder. "I could have sworn I've told you not to call me that."

He smiles sheepishly. "Sorry, Nis."

"Much better." He nods in approval, sighing as he closes the file he's reading through, he hates doing paperwork as much as the next guy does. He tosses the stack of files onto his desk, coming to stand behind the young man searching through his books, he curls his hands over his thin shoulders, squeezing them lightly. "You're as thin as a twig, I don't know how you manage to keep up, you'll come dine with us at the Pavilion tonight, you could do with a bowl of thick stew. We need to get some meat on those bones." Donavon giggles lightly and nods at his words. "Finding anything?"

The youth shrugs lightly. "There's so many interesting looking ones." He looks up at the taller angel for a moment. "I don't know how to choose."

"Allow me to lend a hand, then." He looks down to meet his gaze. "What are you in the mood for?"

"I don't know…Adventure? A place different than this one."

Nisroc smiles. "I got just the one." He reaches forward, leaning over him, Donavon ducks slightly as he does. He takes a deep maroon book by the spine and pulls it free, pulling it down for him, it sits kind of higher then he can manage. "What about this one?"

His young companion takes the book gingerly, flipping it open to the first page, and his eyes skim hungrily over the page as he soaks in the words. "Perfect."

"I'm glad."

"Hey," the boy goes tense at the echo of the new voice, curling his arms around the book, holding it tightly against his chest. "You wanted to see me?"

He turns them around, curling his fingers tightly around the tense young shoulders when the boy backs up a step, pressing against him at their new guest. "Thanks for coming, Puriel."

The lightly toned man smiles at them, nodding in acknowledgement, he stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame, with his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

Nisroc smiles at him, squeezing the boys shoulders, Donavon averts his eyes from the new Power standing before them. "This is Donavon."

"Ah, the boy you've been telling me about?"

"The same. I thought it time for you two to meet."

"I see," the medic nods lightly at his words. "Why does he look like I'm about to strike him down?"

His Captain frowns lightly. "We have a bit of an issue with trusting others."

"Sure. Who was his guardian?"

"Theo."

It's the medic's turn to frown. "Well, that's horrible." He tilts his head. "Who's bright idea was it to give _him _a fledgling to raise?"

Nisroc shrugs, his expression giving way that he'd like to know such information for himself, how did the bad ones always end up with lovable impressionable fledglings to care for, when they didn't have a single caring bone in their bodies. He'd thought long and hard on who to bring into the equation, who would be suitable enough to take up the care that the boy needed, and there was no one else that had come to mind, other then his brother.

He squeezes the tense shoulders again, they're as stiff as a board, and he tries to ease the tension away. "Donavon, this is Puriel." He nods at his brother. "Puriel, this is Donavon."

The medic smiles at him, trying to ease his nerves, he can see the strain he's in under all that tension. "Hello, Donavon, it's nice to meet you."

The boy just nods, a stiff jerk of his head, his embrace around the treasured book tightening.

He gestures to the book the boy holds. "I see you like to read, it's one of my favorite pastimes too, what do you like?"

"I like…Ad—Adventure books."

Puriel nods. "Those are the best, aren't they?" the boy nods and he smiles lightly. "I like adventure books too. Nis has a grand collection, but _not_ as grand as mine is, I can show you if you'd like."

Donavon seems unsure, looking down for a moment, adjusting his position slightly.

"You're so tense, too, I'm hurting just _looking _at you."

He pushes away from the doorframe, slowly crossing the threshold to meet at his side. "Let me help you." The boy looks up at Nisroc, unsure, and the Captain nods slightly. "He knows what to do."

"C'mere, kiddo, I'm not gonna hurt you."

Donavon takes a cautious step forward and turns when the medic gestures for him to turn, ducking slightly when he curls his hands over his shoulders. "Right….about…..._here_." He digs his thumbs into the tense muscle and he can't stop himself from giving an involuntary groan of comfort, the tension slowly falling away as he works his fingers into the constricted muscles. "Does that feel good, Donavon?" the youth nods silently, stepping back slightly, leaning into the touch. "This would be so much better if you were laying down." He removes his hands, smiling at the soft whine the young boy gives, and tugs on his sleeve. "I think I'll take him from here, Nis, thanks for the introduction."

"Of course," Nisroc smiles as Donavon turns at the tug of his sleeve, letting his medic curl an arm around his shoulders. "Rest well, young Donavon."

They turn the corner and disappear from sight, and he turns back to continue working on his dreaded paperwork, not seeing the head poke around the doorframe. "So, you're not taking him in?"

"I never intended to, Paul." He knows who it is without looking. "I have my hands full enough keeping you two out of trouble." He flips through the file he has in hand. "Had you not been so moody about it, I would have told you, before assumptions had been made."

He doesn't look up, he doesn't have to, to know that his oldest charge has parted from the doorframe, turned into his office. He merely lifts his hand, knowing his approach despite not witnessing it, and lets him curl around his side, lowering his arm to rest his hand a top his head.

"Sorry I was so bad."

"Me too."

Paul mumbles into his side. "I just thought you were replacing us."

"I'd never replace you, my little one, I promised you that when I took in young Sasha." Nisroc tosses the file back on his desk in favor of curling his charge in his arms. "And, I do not break my promises."

His boy looks up at him. "You're not mad still, are you?"

The Captain smiles down at him, poking him in the side lightly, chuckling softly when he squirms around. "No, I'm not mad at you anymore." He smiles at the giggles that come to pass as he continues to poke him in the side. "Let's explore those giggles a bit more. I haven't heard them in so long." He bends slightly, curling his fingers around the younglings waist, and lifts him up to sit on the edge of his cleared desk, the only covering being the files laying across the surface. Paul smiles up at him, his mischievous troublemaking boy, and points a finger in his face. "No."

His guardian chuckles lowly, attacking his sides in a sudden assault, and the boy archs as he shrieks in surprise. "You don't command me to do _anything_." He pushes the boy backwards, into a laying position, stepping forward to stand between his leg, and digs his ten fingers into his belly. "Let's hear those giggles, little guy, let 'em out."

Smaller fingers curl around his. "Nihihihihis!"

"There they are."

Paul shrieks when he finds a particularly sensitive spot and gives it some special attention, kicking his feet up, bracing them against the edge of the desk, he tries to lifts himself away. His guardian meets his challenge though, reaching back, spidering his fingers over the underside of his thighs. He chuckles at the squeal his boy lets out, throwing his feet down, to keep him from getting to his thighs again.

"I can't believe you thought so little of me." Paul looks between his hands as he raises them, wiggling his fingers slowly, giggling in anticipation. "To think that I would so easily replace you." He shrieks in laughter when he runs his fingers up and down his sides. Arching his back again in ticklish agony. "You, my little mischievous, troublemaking fledgling."

"I'm nohohohot a flehehehedgling ahahhahanymohohore!"

"You are if I _say_ you are." He reaches forward, itching his fingers lightly against his neck, Paul shrieks brightly. He scrunches up his shoulders, high pitched giggles escaping him at the light tingly sensations, shaking his head this way and that trying to evade or dodge the fingers. It was an attempt made in vain. "You'll always be my little boy." He smiles at the bright, high pitched giggles. "Especially when you get all giggly like this."

The Captain pulls his hands back down again, digging back into his belly, spidering his fingers all over. Paul squeals again, twisting slightly, trying to curl up but failing. "Let's see how long I keep make those giggles last, shall I?"

"NOhohoho!"

"It was a rhetorical question." He tugs the boys tunic free from his belt, pulling up only slightly, and digs back into his bare belly. "I'm gonna do what I want." The Power pinches at his lower belly, Paul squeaks, squealing again when he digs back in, spidering all over his bare belly again. "And I want to do this."


	29. Building A New Home

"This is where you stay?" The Captain looked around the small dorm with a frown, it was more like a broom closet, a small enclosure that they had shoved a bed into and left him to his own. Inca nods silently, as ever, and steps around him into the small room. "It's so small."

Inca spares him a timid look over his shoulder, turning slightly. _'Im small.'_

He smiles in amusement. "Yes, you most certainly are, it's endearing."

The Virtue steps into the small room, coming to stand over his shoulder as he packs his things into a small satchel, he doesn't have very much. It makes him frown again. "You don't have very much."

_'The vendors don't like me taking their stuff. They say I'm broken. I don't need very much.'_

"You are far from broken." He leans forward, picking up a small book, it's leather bound, and ties shut. "What's this?"

_'My journal.' _Inca takes the book from his hands and stuffs it in the satchel he holds. _'I like to draw in my free time_.'

Oren nods, learning more about the boy he's decided to take under wing, to stay with him in his room, was something he took with welcoming arms. Inca finished his packing, there wasn't very much for him to pack away, and he turned to face the older angel when he was ready. "Ready to go?"

The young healer nods, settling the strap of the satchel over his shoulder, his fingers curling around it tightly in his nervousness. Oren nods in return, turning them both back around to the door, curling his fingers around his outer shoulder, his inner shoulder rubs against his side as they walk out of the tiny room together

Others come to stand at the doors of their dorms, watching the Virtue escort the uppity angel down the hall, so shamed that he can't even speak, in their minds. Inca shrinks into himself at their looks, shrinking against the Virtue despite the little voice in his head telling him to keep the distance between them, Oren's fingers tighten around his shoulder. He's seen their looks as well.

Humming to himself, he looks down at the muted healer, rubbing his shoulder lightly. "We'll drop your things off upstairs and then head down to see the vendors." Inca nods silently, Oren smiles lightly, as the others whisper among each other as they pass, and when he feels a small hand curl into the back of his tunic, resting against the small of his back.

They step out of the hall back into the Infirmary floor, and he guides him around the edge, up to the stone stairs that lead up to the Loft above. Inca looks around as they enter, eyes widen in awe and curiousness, he's never seen where the Virtues lived before. Not a lot of the younger angels have had that honor, and yet he, a broken muted angel, was one of those few who did get to see it.

"This is the lounge." Oren gestures to the wide open room, cushioned benches pushed up against smooth stone walls, large pillows and fluffy throw blankets lay strewn about. "This is where we cook and eat." He follows the gesture to the large fireplace, embers glowing under the large cauldron pot, a counter next to it stocked full of vegetables and the such, a wooden table with wooden benches. "This is where our rooms are, they're all down the hall," Oren leads him to the one on the far right. "This is our stop." He points down the hall, to the end, an archway leads into something. "The washroom is at the end of the hall."

There's already a second bed in his room, made up nicely, blankets pulled back for someone to slip under them. Pillows fluffed and ready for a head to lay upon them. His brothers work fast. Oren walks him up to the second bed. "This will be yours."

Inca stares at it for a moment, reaching down to rub his fingers over the soft quilt covering the top, the fingers curled in the back of his tunic tighten and he rubs his shoulder comfortingly. "What's wrong?" He frowns lightly. "Do you not like it?"

The young healer looks up at him, eyes shimmering, and his frown deepens slightly at the unexpected reaction. _'It is so big.'_

He nods, the matter dawning on him softly, and he rubs at his shoulder lightly. "Well, you're very small, I'm sure everything is quite big compared to you."

His young eyes narrow slightly. _'I am not that small.'_

"You're about the size of a fledgling, I'd say." He chuckles at the look he receives for such a comment and gestures to the bed with his free hand. "Set your things down, we can head on down to the vendors to take a look at what they have, we can put your things away when we get back."

_'Why are you being so nice to me?' _

Oren smiles down at him, raising his hands. _'Because you deserve some kindness.'_

He guides the satchel off his shoulder, leaning forward to set it on the bed, Inca watches him carefully as he stands back up again. "We'll get you some new tunics while we're there," he turns them back around for the door. "I saw you stuff only two in there. And some new trousers too. Is there anything you know you want?"

_'A lamp.'_

"A lamp?" The Virtue looks down at him in confusion, it's an odd request. "Why a lamp?"

_'I am scared of the dark.' _The little healer looks so ashamed of it.

"Okay, not a problem, we'll be sure to get you a lamp too." They take the stairs slowly, one at a time, down to the Infirmary floor. "Do you need a new journal? How about some new pencils?" Inca nods shyly and he smiles down at him. "We'll take a look at everything and you grab what you need."

_'But what if—'_

"If anyone gives you any trouble, you let me handle it."


	30. Just One More Minute

He closed his book, a soft thump echoing in the silent room, and looks down at the boy laying next to him. "Time for bed, Avon."

"Just another minute," the boy licks his finger and turns the page. "I'm almost done with the chapter."

"No sir, I gave you another '_minute'_, thirty minutes ago." He reaches down and pokes him in the belly. "Close the book and get in bed."

"I'm going to, Puri." The boy doesn't so much as spare him a glance. "In a minute."

"Okay, _one _more minute, so read fast."

The boy nodded, flipping the page again, and the Power counted down his bargained minute. It came and went. "Okay, that was your last minute, time for bed." He reaches over and lifts the book from his boy's hands, marking the page, and closed the book to set on top of his own on the small table next to him. He looks up at him, pouting lightly. "Awe, but Puri, it was just getting good!"

"And, it'll be just as good tomorrow."

"Why can't I just finish it now?" His boy reaches up to curl his fingers around his wrist. "I don't have training in the morning, it's the day of rest."

"Because you still need to get a good night's rest."

"I'm not even tired, though!"

Puriel smiles down at him, curling his own fingers around his thin wrist, pulling his arm up. "Let's fix that, then." And pokes a finger into his revealed underarm.

Donavon giggles, tugging at his arm, against the Power's unbreakable grip around his wrist. The elder wiggles his finger in his underarm and the youth's giggles grow in quantity. "How about now, are you tired now?"

Through his giggles, he manages a quick shake of his head, shrieking in surprise when the Power spiders his fingers down his side instead. "Okay, we'll keep trying." He lets go of his arm, leaning forward to fold his hand up under his tunic, fingers press into his bare belly. It shakes with giggles. "How about now?" He digs in sharply, the boy shrieks again, pressing his head back against the mattress underneath him, arching his back at the sensation. "Nohohoho!"

"Shame." The tone in which it's said gives way to the notion that he is not anything less them amused in his admittance. Puriel catches one of his kicking feet, curling his fingers around his ankle, he pulls the foot up closer. Donavon turns with the tugging on his foot, sprawled out facing the end of the bed, his arm laying limply over the Power's crossed ankles. "How about these little feet?" He strokes a finger down the length of his sole and he gives a bright peal of laughter, ten fingers dig in and he arches his back again, tugging desperately at his foot, especially with fingers poke at his toes. "My feheheheet ahahahare nohohot lihihihittle!"

"No," the Power scratches a finger over the arch of his foot, and he jerks, laughing brightly at the sensation. "You don't call this a little foot?" He leans forward to run his fingers over the underside of his knee, Donavon shrieks again and tries to twist his leg away, it doesn't get very far. "It's teeny tiny."

Later, he would claim it was from desperation, when he turned onto his side and dug his own fingers into one of the Power's feet next to him. Puriel yelps, yanking his feet back, and his fingers tighten around his ankle. "You did _not_." Donavon screams in laughter when he presses his lips to his foot, pressing a kiss to the middle of his foot, the stubble of his light beard making him squeal in laughter. "It's a good thing you took a bath before bed, or this would have been gross." He takes a deep breath and blows a raspberry against his sole, Donavon squeals again, twisting over onto his side. Puriel slowly lowers his own feet back down to rest at the end of the bed, crossing at the ankles, and he curls his fingers around his ankle as a means of bracing himself when he hears him take another breath, just before another raspberry is blown into his sole.

"This is a good position, for me, perhaps not for you." He curls one of his legs over his shoulders, pulling him down to rest on his stomach, and leans forward again. There's no giggles, no bright peals of laughter, Donavon just squeals brightly, and then he breaks into uproarious peals of laughter, as he digs into the meat of his thigh. Spidering the fingers of his right hand over the sensitive skin that rests on the underside of his thigh, before dipping them inwards, pinching at the inner thigh lightly. "How about now, Avon, are you sleepy yet?"

He nods, oh how he nods, squealing brightly and kicking out, arms wrapped tightly around the Power's other ankle. "Yehehehehehehes! I'm—I'm sleheheheheepy!"

"Will you be a good little angel, and go to bed like I told you to?"

"Yeheheheheesss!"

Chuckling, the medic of the Powers pulls his leg away, releasing the youth from his imprisonment, and crosses his ankles again. Donavon giggles breathlessly still, curling up on himself, pulling his legs up and away from his reach. Leaning forward, Puriel rubs a hand over the side of his head, tugging lightly at the ends of his hair. "Come on, turn around, we'll get some sleep now."

Slowly, carefully, his little warrior turns, crawling up to lay against him on his bed. Donavon's got his own next to his, but he's not a mean one, he'll let him curl up and sleep here after such a brutal attack. He giggles lightly still, against his side, and he strokes his fingers through his hair. "Maybe next time, you'll just do as I say, and go to bed."

"That was fun!"

"I'm glad you had fun." He settles down next to him, raising his arm, allowing to boy to settle closer. His head resting in the crook of his shoulder, fingers curling lightly into the tunic over his chest, Donavon settles down comfortably. "What are we doing tomorrow, Avon?"

"Can we go see the Rain Forest?"

"Sure, we can do that."


	31. Big Brother's Hand

"I have to tell your dad."

As the one she lived with, as her adopted older brother, there was many things he took in his role of caretaker when her celestial parent was not around to assert the role. That also meant he dished out punishment when the need arose, not that it arose often, she was a well mannered child, but there was certain episodes.

Very few that he decided warrant enough to get the Archangel involved.

"No, you don't!" She thrusts herself forward, her fingers curling over his crossed arms, and he huffs lightly as he looks down at her with firm golden eyes. "Please don't tell daddy, he'll be so mad, please don't tell him!"

"I have to, Iaso, this was…You could have _lost _a limb!" He shakes his head firmly. "We almost had to _amputate _it!"

"It was a mistake! I was wrong—"

"You most certainly were!"

She continued on as though he hadn't interrupted her. "It won't happen again!" She tugs on his arm until he lets it fall, her fingers curl around his wrist, hugging his hand to her chest. "Please, Anu! Please don't tell! Please don't tell daddy! Please!" Her eyes are watering, bright, wide, a puppy begging for something they want. "You know what he'll do! He'll be so mad, Anu, please!"

"Maybe a firmer hand will actually get that message through your head that you are not to keep wounds to yourself."

"Please big brother!" Using her puppy dog eyes on him is so cheating. She looks like a kicked puppy. It breaks his resolve every single time. But this time he swears it's going to be different. All those other times, those other times they hadn't almost needed to preform an amputation, this time was not like the other times. "Please don't tell daddy! Please!"

"Fine." He lets his other arm drop, pointing a finger in her face firmly, his resolve reinforced at the thought of what he almost had to do to the closest thing he had to a baby sister. "Fine, I won't tell your father, but this time is different." She stares up at him with wide, watering eyes, quietly. "This time simply grounding you to your room isn't sufficient."

"You mean…"

The Egyptian nods firmly. "I do. I mean it this time, Iaso, no more. This is the last time this is going to happen. If it happens again, I'm seriously going to go straight to your dad and let him handle it."

"But—But—"

"It's going to happen, baby sister, it can be from my hand or your fathers." He pulls hand out from her grasp, crossing his arms over his chest again. "It's your choice."

"Anu, please!"

Anubis shakes his head firmly. "My choice is telling your dad, is that what you want?"

The Nephilim child looks down solemnly. "No, big brother."

"So, you want me to do it, then?"

She nods pitifully, and he nods once in affirmation, uncrossing his arms, he takes hold of her upper arm lightly and pulls her forward. Up the stairs that lead to his throne, and her cheeks heat up at the thought of it, they're not going anywhere for privacy. No where away from the eyes of the servants and guards and other inhabitants of the temple. "Anu, please…."

His fingers tighten slightly around her arm. "Be silent, Iaso."

She nods pitifully, sniffling already, wiping at her nose with the back of her free hand. The deity sits in the throne, guiding her around, and she slowly lowers herself into the dreaded position. Some turn to look at the soft cries that come from the Nephilim child's firm chastisement, frowning and sighing sadly, they turn back to their duties.

They all knew what almost happened from pure recklessness. They all thought their god was in the right to punish as such. Some lessons needed taught a bit more firmer than others.

Its over as soon as it begun, and they box recline in the throne together, the youngest one sniffling pitifully.

She leans back against his arm, the one that's draped over the armrest behind her, her legs hanging over his right thigh, he rubs at her left knee gently as he listens to the souls come and confess their lives. Iaso rubs at her eyes, sniffling again, and he hums softly, reaching up for one of her hands, pressing his lips to her palm lightly, his eyes never leaving those standing before them, and then he returns to rubbing her knee.

"That hurt, Anu."

The jackal deity chuckles softly. "I'm sure it did." He squeezes her knee lightly and she giggles. "Just as I'm sure you'll think twice next time."

Iaso sighs, humming softly, pushing herself slightly. He moved his leg just a bit, enough that she could fall against his side, rest her head on his shoulder, without her feet changing position. He leans over, resting his head on hers, the fuzz from her braids brush against his cheek.

"You still love me, right Anu?"

"Without hesitation."


	32. Here To Care For You

"Hey, Oren, I think you should see this."

His Captain looks up from the file he's reading at the call of his name, closing the folder, he sets it on the desktop at the beckoning for his attention. He comes to stand next to his brother, Ephraim holds the file out to him, and he takes it with confusion. "See what?"

"Read the margin."

He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head to read the slanted writing, it's distinct, light on the parchment. It's curly and neat. He knows immediately who this writing belongs to, and he glances up over the edge to his brothers young charge, her and his own circle around each other closely.

Sighing, Oren returns his gaze to the file he holds, eyes skimming over the words written there.

**Are you okay?**

He knows who responds to the inquiry.

**_Do you think you can get me something from Zed's inventory?_**

An eyebrow raises in curiosity.

**I can try. What do you need?**

**_Something for an upset stomach._**

**Why don't you tell Oren if you don't feel well? He'd take care of you. Akriel takes care of us when we don't feel well.**

**_He's already given me somewhere to sleep, I don't want to be a burden, he already handles so much because I can't talk._**

He'd read enough, closing the file quickly, he thrusts it out for his brother. Ephraim takes it back, folding it up against his chest, eyeing his brother curiously. "Are you going to be unavailable for the evening?"

"Yes, something has come up, cover for me."

"I'll let Z know." Ephraim nods. "He'll make a few things for you guys."

"Thank you." Oren turns on his heel, crossing his arms lightly, crossing the threshold to intercede his charge as he carries an arm full of blankets to the beds him and his friend were making up. "Inca, can I have a word with you?"

The boy drops the blankets in surprise at his sudden appearance, and he looks down at them with raised eyebrows, if the boy had something to hide, his nervousness was giving him away in a heartbeat.

"How do you feel?" He tilts his head slightly. "You look rather flushed."

He turns quickly to his friend, she's trying to hide in herself, ducking down slightly. Orion glances up and meets his eyes, nodding quickly, she sets her things down and comes to stand at his side. They both look nervous, as if they're up to something, as if they know they're doing something wrong. "He's fine….Just been moving around a lot today."

"Right." Oren turns to her. "And how does Akriel feel about lying?"

She looks down. "He doesn't like it."

"If you want to have our talk here, that's fine, we can have it here." He reaches out to press the back of his hand to his boy's forehead, then to his cheeks, frowning at the heat. "How long have you been feeling bad?"

His hands shake as he raises them. _'Since yesterday.'_

"You've been feeling this way since yesterday," the older healer frowns lightly and withdraws his hand. "And you never said anything."

_'I didn't want to be too much trouble.'_

"You could never be too much trouble." Oren nods at Orion. "I won't tell Akriel. I know you were merely looking out for your friend." And he draws his arm around the young healers shoulders. "We are getting you back in bed."

Inca curls his arm around his back, fingers curling into his tunic, following as Oren turned them around for the direction of the stairs that led to the Loft above their heads. They stop by Zed's station on their way, collecting a handful of small vials, the apothecary gives him a stern look when he learns that is was him who had stolen from his inventory, but can't very well be that angry at the small healer with reddened cheeks. "Get some rest, kiddo."

"Oh, he'll get plenty of it." Oren reassured him, rubbing at his arm lightly as they turned back on their way. Taking the stairs silently, they slowly appeared in the lounge, everyone being below left it empty and silent. His guardian leads him through the empty lounge, passed the wooden table and cooking area, down the hall to where their room lays.

They turn inside.

"Alright, kick off your boots, get yourself ready for bed."

Inca nods, doing as he's told, kicking off his boots beside his bed, he shimmies out from his trousers and climbs under the blankets that have been folded back for him. He unashamedly snuggles down against his pillows, under his blankets, and Oren smiles at him as he sits on the edge of the bed.

He brushes dark bangs from his eyes. "Tell me what hurts."

_'My belly hurts.' _He falls still. _'And my throat.'_

His guardian smiles at him. _'I got just what you need.'_

Picking two blue vials from the lot, he pops the tops off, and passes them over one by one. Watching attentively, he ensures that the little healer downs them both, and tucks the blanket up under his chin when he passes the second empty vial to him. "Get some sleep, little guy."

_'Will you lay down with me?'_

Chuckling, the Virtue nods. _'Scoot over.'_

Inca smiles, scooting over just a tad, the elder slides in next to him. Oren leans back against the pillows, lifting his arm for him, and the shy little angel scoots closer, ducking under his arm and curls in closer. He curls his arm around him, pulling close against his side, and rubs at his arm lightly.

"Now," he kisses the side of his feverish forehead. "You get some sleep."

_'Okay Ori.'_

He catches his hand before it can fall back down, pressing the palm to his lips. "No more talking, you little chatter box, close those eyes."

Inca smiles, nuzzling down, and closes his eyes as he's surrounded by the warm familiar air that is Oren.


	33. Hiding From The Medic

"You're not going to training today." He shakes his head, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, he raises his left hand and twirls his finger around. "You turn you're little self around and get back in bed."

"But I'm fine!"

He sniffles though, rubbing at his nose with the back of his sleeve, trying not to look as miserable as he felt.

"I'm not even sick!"

"I don't think so. I may be a Power now, but I was raised as a healer, I can see everything I need to know you are, in fact, sick." He twirls his finger again. "Turn, mister, let's go."

The boy groans, sighing deeply, he throws his arms out and turns on his heel. Behind him, his guardian follows, as if only to make sure that he makes his way back to their shared room. He expects to be put to bed, tucked in nice and snug, and for the Power to take his leave to return to training. They've grown rather close, but he doesn't think they're that close, he's still a _Power _after all. He has a squadron to be training. He doesn't have time to take care of a sick youngling.

They enter their room in silence, and fingers curl around the leather vest he wears. "Come on, shrug it off." He does as he's told in silence, mentally preparing himself for an afternoon alone. "And your boots. Kick 'em off." Donavon does as he's told, kicking his boots off, pushing them to the edge of his wardrobe with his feet. Puriel rubs at his shoulders, he feels him lean forward, his curls brush against his cheek. "Let's get you into bed."

He nods, letting himself be led forward, watching as the Power leans around him to pull his blankets down and guides him down into bed. He tucks the blankets up under his chin and sits on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees, turning to look at him fondly. "If you aren't well, I need to know, so I can make you feel better again."

"Because I need to train?"

"Because I _care _for you." He strokes his hair back. "I don't like seeing you feeling badly."

He looks down to his hands. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"It's alright, this is still new for you, surely your _old_ guardian wasn't so caring." Donavon shakes his head, looking up when the medic strokes the back of his fingers over his cheek. "But _I_ happen to adore you, so when you feel bad, I will care for you until you feel well again."

"You're not going to leave me?"

Puriel shakes his head, giving him a soft smile. "Not for anything less them a sudden ambush." Brushing his fingers through his hair. "I'm all yours." Donavon smiles slightly, finally letting the cough he's been struggling to hold back free, it rocks his chest. His guardian winks in amusement. "There's that '_nonexistent'_ cough."

"I don't feel good, Puri."

He presses his hand over his forehead, curling his fingers with the curve, nodding in agreement. "I know you don't." He frowns lightly at the warmth under his fingers. "Tell me what hurts, so I can help."

Donavon curls his fingers around the Power's hand, pulling it down to press against his chest, curling around it slightly. "My belly hurts, Puri."

"Is that it?"

He shakes his head. "My throat hurts too. And my head."

His new guardian nods. "You've got a bit of a fever there, as well, and that small cough." The medic scratches the fingers of his captive hand against his youngling's congested chest. "Let me gather a few things, I'll be right back, okay Avon?"

The boy nods, letting go of his hand, and watches him from his pillow as his Power crosses to the cabinet above his desk and rummages through the vials he keeps in there. Cures and tonics for just about everything, his inventory was always stocked, he never ran out, that's what becomes from being good friends with two apothecaries.

Three vials, that's how many he grabs, and he closes the cabinet door as he turns to head back to his side. He sits on the edge of the bed once more, uncapping the vials, he passes them over. "Every drop, Avon, they'll help." His boy nods, taking the vials as he's passing them over, downing them in one gulp lest he actually have to taste them. "Good boy, very good." Puriel sets the empty vials on the small table that sits between their beds, stroking a finger down his nose. "Do you want me to read to you until you fall asleep?"

Donavon nods sleepily. "Yes, please."

He reaches for the book laying on the small table, nudging the youngling over, kicking his own boots off as he stretches out next to him. Donavon snuggles close, curling under his arm, his head cushioned on his chest. He curls his arm around him comfortingly and opens the book where they had left off the night before, kissing the top of his head once. "Ready?"

The young warrior in training rubs at his nose and nods lazily. "Promise you'll stay if I fall asleep?"

"I won't even read ahead."

Donavon smiles, nuzzling in closer, feeling lips press to his temple. "You better not, Puri."

"I promise I won't."


	34. I Will Not Tap Out

"This is the training field, obviously, we meet here every morning at 0600. You have Wednesday's and Friday's to yourself, and the day of rest, obviously. Any quest—_Oomph."_

The fabled Captain of the Powers stumbled forward at the sudden impact from behind, and the newest recruits all jumped back in horror as he struggled to maintain his upright position, a laughing youngling had jumped on his back. He wrapped his arms around his neck, his legs around his waist, pulling him backwards, as at the same moment, another rams into his legs, and it brings him to the ground.

It's horrifying, in the newest recruits eyes, that there would be some as daring as to bring the Captain to his knees.

But the Captain is in on the excitement, laughing softly as he struggles to pull the arms off from around his neck, the youngling tightens his grip. "Tap out!" He pulls sharply. "Tap out, Nis!"

"I will never tap out for you." When it becomes evident that he's not going to manage in pulling the arms from around his neck, he reaches back, bending forward slightly, and curls his fingers under the youngling's arms. The youth lets out a surprised shriek when the Power yanks him forward, flipping him over his head, off his back, and to the ground underneath him. "You try and try and never seem to succeed."

They watch completely mystified as the Power smiles down at him, when he sticks his tongue out at the Captain looming above him, and his eyebrows raise at the cheekiness. "Oh, we're going to be cheeky now, are we?" He digs his fingers into his belly, it's a sudden action, and the youngling shrieks brightly, arching his back. "This is what you get."

"Nihihihihis!"

He smiles down at him endearingly. "Yes, Paul?"

"Nohohohoho!"

"You should have known this was coming," he tugs at the youngling's tunic and young Paul's hands clamber to keep him from tugging it free. "This happens _every _time you try to get me to tap out." He manages to tug his tunic free despite the slight inhibition from the younger angel under him, pulls it up only slightly, and spiders ten fingers over his bare belly.

Any possible embarrassment from the position he finds himself in is drowned out by the ticklish agony he now faces. He could never stand it when Nisroc went after his belly, he was ruthless, especially when he was teaching a lesson. Paul screams in laughter, arching his back, squirming under him in an attempt to break free from his torture.

"Here." They all look up at the arrival of the other Power, Titus smiles to the newest recruits kindly, a youngling struggling over his shoulder. "Someone was trying to escape their comeuppance." The Captain thanks him, leaning to the side for him to lean forward and pull the squirming, struggling, youngling from over his shoulder to lay next to his brother in the dirt. "Thank you, Tus." The other youngling squeals brightly, his face burning a red hue at the others there to witness it, when he digs his fingers sharply into his inner thigh.

The other Power chuckles, shaking his head lightly. "I'll take over your tour. Teach 'em good."

He gestures for the class to follow him as he turns, and they all stare at the three of them as they step passed them, following after him quickly.

One builds up the courage to tap him on the arm as he leads them across the field. "Yes, little one?"

"W—Who are they?"

"Oh," he peered over his shoulder at the three of them, exchanging words that went unheard by distance, the relationship they shared was an endearing one. "They're Paul and Sashael, he goes by Sasha, they're his charges." He sighs, shaking his head. "They try this at least once a month."

Titus turns to address the others. "Let that be a lesson though. He doesn't bow to anyone. If you try to take him down, make sure you succeed, or you'll find the same end as they did."


	35. Waking Up Alone

He was alone.

He woke up alone.

There was no one else.

He was all alone again.

Steam slowly began to rise from his fingers, he looked down at them with wide eyes, the blanket singed when he grabbed it to throw off his legs. He stumbled out of bed, the tranquilizing tonic starting to wear off. There was a chair next to his bed, the one he'd been placed in after taking the strong tonic, a book sitting on the edge of the table next to it.

The chair was empty.

He stumbled across the room drunkenly, leaning against the doorframe to peer down the hall, leaving charred hand prints around the wooden frame.

There was no one in the hall.

Pushing himself away from the door frame, he dragged his hand against the stone wall as he made his way down the hall to the lounge, he was warm, there was that, it wasn't cold. Not yet. He stumbled to stand in front of the large windows that overlooked the training field, eyes roaming over the moving bodies for those who could help, he was getting warmer and warmer and he couldn't stop it. He needed someone to stop it. His eyes met those of who could help, he stared at the back of their head, and then his focus changed, and he stared into the glowing orange circles that were his eyes.

Stepping away from the window, he trudges his way to the steps that leads down to the training field, his head is swimming, but all he can focus on is that he's alone and he doesn't like being alone. He stumbles out onto the training field, nearly falling to his knees, startling the recruits nearest him. He stares at his target, his safe haven, the one that always makes sure he knows he's not alone.

Someone tugs on their arm, gesturing to the one stumbling forward behind them, and they turn to peer over their shoulder. Familiar blue eyes widen, and he turns quickly, rushing forward to catch him.

"Hey, hey, you're okay, I've got you."

He grips at the sleeves of his tunic tightly, steam rising from his fingers, a hand curls around the left side of his face.

"Let's calm down, take a deep breath," he chokes. "You can do it, take a deep breath for me 'Mal."

He stutters a deep breath, holding it like he's instructed, and lets it go.

"There's a good angel, that's it, lets relax, take another breath."

The steam slowly comes to a stop, fading off, and his shoulders fall as the tensions slowly rolls away. He's pulled inward, arms wrap around him securely, around his lower back, and he leans against them. Fingers curling into their tunic, breathing in deeply, he presses his ear to their chest to find their heart beat.

"What happened, 'Mal, tell big brother what happened?"

"I..I was alone….there was no one…I was….Nis?"

"I'm here, baby brother, you found me." The arms around his lower back tighten and a bearded chin rubs against the side of his forehead. "I've got you."

Hasmal feels him nod over his head, fingers rubbing at his lower back gently, and his older brother keeps him tucked against his side as he slowly turns them back in the direction of the Pavilion, hushing any whispers with a sharp look. Hasmal keeps his head tucked away, not wanting to see them staring, his steps becoming lighter. "Is it a bad day, today?" He nods against his older brothers neck and a hand rubs up his arm tenderly. "Lets get you back in bed."

Puriel was meant to be watching him, but with a sick boy in his own room, there was no blame to be shared with him leaving their volatile brother for a brief moment to check up on his own charge. And seeing as to how the tonic they'd give him on his bad days was wearing off, he'd say, he had also gone to fetch a refill.

They find their medic standing frantically in the empty room, a vial in one hand, and the other pressed to his head in worry.

"Puri, I've got him."

He spins around. "Oh, thank Father, I was so worried." He crosses to their side quickly, helping guide their unstable brother back to the bed, he's getting better every day, but he still has more bad days then good. "I'm sorry I left him, I went to get more of his tonic, and to check on Avon, and I—"

"It's alright, Puri," his Captain squeezes his arm lightly as they guide their baby brother into laying in the bed again, pulling the blankets up over him. "How is your boy doing?"

Puriel pulls the stopper off the vial and holds his baby brothers head up gently as he presses it to his lips, watching as he downs the tonic slowly, his eyes fluttering softly as the effect takes hold quickly. Stroking his forehead, his hair back, he watches as his breathing evens out. "He's getting better. He caught quite a nasty bug."

Nisroc nods, Paul had caught the same bug going around just weeks previous, he knew what it was like. Sasha hadn't caught it just yet, but he'd been sniffling for the better part of the week, so he was preparing for it.

"You can bring him here if you'd like, you don't have to keep going between both rooms."

The medic looks up at him. "Really?"

"Sure, I have two beds. The boy can have the other one for today."

"You're a good brother, Nis." He touches his arm lightly. "Thank you." Nodding towards their sleeping baby brother. "Stay with him for a moment?"

"Of course."

The younger Power jogs from the room again, he hears him enter his own room down the hall, words are exchanged, and he appears again with his boy cradled in his arms. Donavon smiles up at him sleepily, a gesture he returns in kind, as they pass by him. He watches the young boy curl up as he's laid in the other bed, tucked in tenderly, his brother smiles down at the young one, leaning in to press his lips to his temple. He made the right decision bringing those two together. Puriel was so good for Donavon.

Nisroc nods as his brother takes up his seat again, kicking his feet up to cross lightly on the edge of the bed, and he reaches for his book, and knowing that they're going to be taken care of, he turns to head back to the field below.

He knows both are in good hands.


	36. A Brilliant Young Mind

"What are you doing here, all on your own?"

She looks up from her book at the sound of his voice, tucking a stray curl behind her ear, she blushes and looks back down. "Reading."

The elder leans against the table she sits at, all on her lonesome. "I can see that, why not join the others?"

She sighs deeply, fingering the corner of the page she had been reading through. "They don't like me. They say I'm weird. They all leave when I try to join their groups." She looks back up at them though, smiling slightly, a shy little thing. "It's okay though. I like being on my own."

"You do?"

"Sure, when your own your own, you can be yourself." She presses her hand to the center of the page, looking passed them at the group nearest, averting her eyes when their eyes make contact as they spy over and whisper among each other. "And no one will judge you for it."

"They judge you for being yourself?"

She nods. "But it's okay. I deserve it. I think."

"What's your name, little one?"

She blinks up at him in surprise, no one's ever asked for her name before, they all shun her from their groups. "Ara—Araton."

"Hello, Araton, I'm Zed." He holds a hand out for her to shake, and she looks down at it silently, reaching one of her own out cautiously. Her hand is so small compared to his, petite, as he curls his fingers around it. He gestures to the bench across from her. "May I join you?"

Hesitantly, though more so from awe, the young lady nods her head, eyes wide in surprise.

He smiles at her, recognizing a work journal when he sees one, he has his own, obviously. "May I see?" Araton looks down at her notes, the pictures she's drawn, all her research. She takes a small breath and nods, turning the journal around, pushing out for him to take. "Sure."

The apothecary thanks her softly, turning the small journal around, he reads over the delicate notes. He runs his fingers over the soft sketches, nodding as her reads over the notes sprawled in the margins, across the spine of the pages. "This is very good." He flips the page. "You have an interest in the herbs and fauna, and what their purposes are." He looks up to see her nod shyly in affirmation. "I think it's amazing, how something so small can make the biggest of impacts, it's so interesting."

"I was the same way." He flips another page, and she watches him flip through her journal with great interest, a slight blush creeping to her features at his admission. "I was always experimenting when I was younger." Zed smiles up at her in amusement. "I can't tell you how much trouble I got into because of my experiments." He strokes his fingers over the petals of a flower pasted on the page he's flipped to. "Did you know, I used to make tonics in my dorm, and then I'd sneak them into my classes drinks and food. Oh, the trouble I'd get into."

The apothecary of the Virtues turns the journal around, pushing back across the table for her, nodding to her work certainly impressed by her knowledge. "That is very good, Araton, you know far more then I did at your age."

She takes her journal back, flipping it closed slightly, slipping the knot through the keeper as she bound it closed. "But what good is it. There's only ever one apothecary. I should be focusing on what everyone else is focusing on."

The Virtue hums thoughtfully, peering over his shoulder to the whispering group behind them when her eyes flash back over to them minutely, she thinks he can't see her doing it, he's noticed every single time. "Is that why they say your weird?"

Araton nods shyly, looking down to her book again. "They say I'm not normal. I can't help it. It's just so fascinating to me."

"Being normal is overrated." She looks up at him, and he smiles at her, waving his fingers in dismissal of the notion. "Why would you ever want to be _'normal'_? What does that word even mean? What is the definition of _'normal'_?" He leans closer, resting his elbows on the table between them, and she looks up at him in silent curiosity. "When I was as young as you, I was considered '_abnormal' _too, shunned just as you are." He looks at his brothers situated around the room. "And then I met the ones who would care about me the most. Who stood by me no matter what others thought. Someone took notice of my interest, they gave me a place to belong, helped me take hold of my interest and excel with it."

"You made friends?"

He shakes his head lightly. "I found my _brothers_."

"But no one wants to be my friend." She averts her eyes again, her voice small, smaller then he's ever heard before. "No one wants me to be in their family."

Zed hums again, leaning back slightly, looking her over carefully, and feeling self-conscious, she averts her eyes. "That's hardly the truth." He nods to himself, as if asserting something to himself, and stands from his bench_. _He gestures for her to follow, and she stands quickly, stumbling out from over the bench, scooping her book and pencils up in quick succession. He watches her carefully, as she wraps her arms around her treasures, and gestures for her to follow as he turns.

They both ignore the whispering from the others as they pass them, but he spies her shrinking from the corner of his eye and turns a sharp look in their direction to bring them to silence. "Talking poorly about another is not tolerated in these walls, do you understand?" They nodded shyly, red in the cheeks, embarrassed at being chastised by a Virtue, of all healers who could come to chastise them. The apothecary curls his arm around Araton's thin shoulders, and turns away from the young healers, their whispering drawn into silence.

The Healer looks up as they approach, smiling in greeting to the both of them, his hand slowly lowering as his writing comes to a sudden unexpected stop. "Hello, Zed, Araton." He looks between them both curiously. "What can I do for you?" An eyebrow raises at the way the young girl's eyes widen, seemingly from the notion that he knows her name, he knows all of his healers names. The Virtue squeezes her shoulder lightly. "Show him."

"Show me what?" He looks down to the young healer curiously, she gulps deeply, slowly unwinding her arms from the leather journal she hugs to her chest and holds it out for the Healer to take. He takes the journal carefully. "What's this?" Slipping the knot out from the keeper, he opens to a random page, eyes skimming over the delicately written notes. "This is truly well done." He rubs his fingers over the intricately drawn examples.

The Healer looks up at her and she looks down slightly, her head tilted downwards, though her eyes meet his. "You did this all on your own?" She nods cautiously, silently, and fingers rub at her shoulder. "Apparently, it's _'weird'_." Zed sounds slightly miffed.

Raphael looks up at him coolly, though a hint of interest in his eyes. "_'Weird' _you say?" He holds the journal back out to it's owner. "I don't see what's so odd in having an interest, especially one such as this." He looks back over to the young healer. "Do the others in your class call you that?"

Araton nods shyly and he hums in disapproval. "Zed this is becoming unacceptable. I want to have a word with this class."

"I would say someone should."

He eyes his Virtue curiously. "Speak your request, Zed, what brings you to me, with young Araton at your side."

Zed nods slightly, his fingers tightening around her shoulder, and she looks down to her feet shyly at all the attention that's suddenly being shown to her. And by a Virtue _and _their Archangel, no less. "I haven't taken someone under my wing for a number of eons."

"No, you haven't." The Healer nods in agreement. "What does that fact have to play in this?"

"I want to take her."

Araton looks up at him, her head whipping around, eyes wide with surprise at the unexpected request.

The Healer smiles. "Granted." He looks between them both with interest. "I take it you want to teach her your craft."

"You would be correct."

"Also granted. You've picked the right one." The Archangel smiles at her kindly. "You both can be _'odd' _together."

Zed snorts. "I think that's the nicest thing you've said to me all week." He jumps back, pulling Araton back with him, laughing lightly when the Healer snatches out for him. "Let me show you _'nice'_."

"Come along, Araton."

He turns quickly, tugging her forward, until their far enough away from the Healer that they only thing that manages to reach them is his fond chuckles. He guides her across the threshold, passing between healers, under the shocked eyes of her class, they come to stand at his work station.

Two large tables, jars and vials cluttered around, herbs and flowers and fauna litters the table tops. The cauldron behind them always warm, the embers always glowing a faint orange, ready for the flames to be stoked and the concoction boiled together.

"We'll set you up a workstation here." He stands before the second table and begins clearing it up. "This'll be yours."

She watches him wide eyes, her head turning ever so slightly with every move he makes. "W-W-What did you mean by taking me under your wing?"

Zed looks back at her, smiling kindly. "The others in your class may not see how brilliant you really are, but I can." He nods at her, gesturing for her to step up to the table as he clears it for her. "If they won't let you be apart of their family, then you will be a part of mine." He nods assertively. "No one deserves to be alone."


	37. I'll Be There For You

The scene was not one that they've seen before, it's new, as new as the ones they've taken into their tightly knit family, and they come to surround them and the poor soul they've decided to team up against.

A girl sits between them all, sitting sprawled on the floor, a bruise forming over her right cheek bone, and complete soaked to the bone.

Araton's crying softly into her arms, curled around a torn object protectively, thin shoulders heaving with her near silent sobs.

Beside her, Orion stands protectively, fingers clenched into tight fists and a fire burning in her eyes that they've only ever seen on a number of occasions. Gzel stands next to her, chest heaving for a breath, eyes sharp, and fists clenched tightly, muscles tense as though she's ready to strike out again.

Inca stands on Araton's other side, a bucket, that was once filled with cool water for the apothecary, now empty, grasped in his hands.

"What on _earth _is going on here?" Oren's the first one to make it to their side, coming to stand between Araton and Inca, eyeing the young healer sitting before them carefully, kneeling to get a better look at her split cheek. "Did you all attack her?"

"Araton, what's wrong?" Zed joins them next, coming to his young apprentice's side, his hand pressing between her shoulder blades. She sucks in a deep breath, turning into him silently, her shoulders rocking as she cries into his chest. He rubs at her back soothingly. "What happened?"

"Gzel, did you attack her?" Akriel comes to stand between his two girls, holding a cloth out for his brother to dab at the bleeding cut on her cheek, Oren thanks him and does as he intended to with the cloth.

The unstable angel nods, unashamedly, and raises her fist again. "She _deserved _it." Akriel heaves a sigh, patient as ever, it's rather difficult to rile his feathers. "Gzel, we've talked about this—" Orion touches a gentle hand to his arm, and he turns to look down at her, she shakes her head softly. "Ak, she tore apart her book." He scrunches his eyebrows together in confusion. "What?"

Orion points at the item Araton holds to her chest as tightly as she can manage. "She broke it. Gzel punched her because she was being mean to Ara. She tore her book, Ak."

The apothecary looks down to his little kitten, rubbing her back softly. "Is it true, kitten, let me see your book?" She inhales deeply, shakily, and slowly uncurls her arms from her treasured possession. It's in tatters, the pages dripping and torn, ink smeared from the soaking, the cover torn deeply. Araton looks up at him with the most broken of glances. "It's..It's ruined, Z…All my work….All that time…It's _ruined_." Another sob tears from her throat and he takes the book from her, pulling her back in, this time she clutches at his tunic as she curls close to him.

"Here." Constantine kneels next to Oren, dabbing the cut with some disinfectant, and curling a bandage strip around it to seal it. His Captain nods in appreciation and stands, turning to his own charge, Inca meets his gaze head on, refusing to back down in submission to the knowledge that he had done wrong, even if it was with the best of intentions. "Did you dump the water on her?"

"She came in really hot." He pulls the empty bucket closer. "I thought she needed to calm down."

Oren raises an eyebrow. "You thought she needed to cool down?"

Ephraim snorts, he'd flinched when he'd come to stand between Orion and Araton, the emotions coming from the distraught girl too much for him to handle and moved to stand at Akriel's side instead. "Good job, then."

"What is going on over here?"

They all turn to look at the new companion, the Archangel looks between them all with equal parts sternness and curiosity, he takes one look at Gzel's clenched fists and the young healers split cheek, and orders them all to his office.

Raphael sits behind his desk, looking between them all expectantly, he expects more from those he takes into his flock and such behavior against another one of their flock mates is not tolerated in any degree. Gzel's defiant, refusing to apologize, in the wake of his firm scolding.

"Oren, explain their behavior."

His Captain nods, gesturing to his apothecary and his small apprentice, she had yet to face him. Curled tight against her master and guardian, sniffling softly against his chest, it was the only sound she made. He turns his gaze to the other Virtue, and Zed nods, leaning forward to deposit the ruined journal on his desk.

The Archangel falls silent, reaching for the book, young Araton's most treasured possession. Her young life's work, the time she had spent meticulously working on it, the entire thing was completely ruined. He understood their anger now, undoubtedly at the one who had done such a crime, and he turned his attention to the soaked healer before him. "Ansiel, did you do this?"

She averts her eyes, nodding stiffly, and he hums deeply. "I am deeply disappointed, Ansiel, this type of behavior is unbecoming for a healer. We are meant to aid, not hinder, this is highly unacceptable." He sets the book down, turning in his chair silently, he stands for the shelf next to him, fishing out another book. The Healer holds the book out to his apothecary, knowing that his young charge was too distraught to let go and turn for it, Zed takes it into hand silently. "It is no replacement for the work lost in this poor choice of judgement, but a new journal is in order, you must keep up with the inventory, but you both are welcome to do what you must to rediscover what has been lost."

He turns to Gzel. "Next time, young lady, you _tell _someone." He points a stern finger at her. "You do _not _punch them."

She nods stiffly. "Sorry, big brother."

"I know you are, little one."

The Healer turns to his Captain's young charge. "As for you, young man, don't you waste perfectly good water in such a manner again."

"Okay."

He smiles at Orion, he can't very well scold her, she hadn't done anything.

Then he turns to their victim. "As for you, Ansiel, you are grounded to your dorm. You will come out for lessons, and then once they're completed, you will head right back for your dorm. Do I make myself clear?"

Ansiel sniffles softly at the scolding. "For how long?"

He hums thoughtfully, his gaze turning back to the broken little apprentice curled in her master's arms, as he whispers reassurances down at her, rubbing her back soothingly.

"For however long it takes her to gain back what you so cruelly destroyed."

"But—But that could take ages!"

He dips his chin, looking upon her firmly, and she hushes instantly as she averts her eyes. "Perhaps you should have thought of the _consequences _before you acted upon your poorly made decision." He nods to the door. "Go, young lady."

Ansiel sniffles miserably and turns, doing as she's told, and makes for her room.

The archangel turns to the little apothecary in training, reaching out to rub her shoulders lightly, she peeks out at from the privacy of her guardian's chest. "Little Ara, I am so sorry for what's happened, we will go through your book and salvage whatever we can."

"It's—It's ruined!"

He shakes his head lightly. "I know it seems like it, but you will find new things, discover things you've never seen before. It's not the most desirable of situations. But we will do everything we can to help you." He nods to his bookcase. "You are more than welcome to any of my journals, should need them, and I'm quite sure Zed would allow you to use his own."

"I would."

Araton sniffles softly, curling closer to her guardian, but gives him the smallest of smiles in return.

"We'll help you too."

She turns to look at the others. Gzel and Orion smile at her, Inca does too, and she returns their kind gesture.

"That's what family does."


	38. The Smallest Of Giggles

"Excuse me, little one." His fingers curl around her upper waist as he pulls her aside slightly so he can walk around her, and she giggles lightly, it brings him to a grinding halt. Whatever it was he was intending to do fell away to the soft tingling sound, he looks down at her, and she stares ahead at her work bench. "Did the shy little thing that I've taken as my own just do what I think she just did?" He squeezes her upper waist again, it gains him the same reaction, and she jolts slightly in accordance. "Oh, our Father, you did."

She smiles to herself as he spins her around, she's so small, that he hooks his hands under her arms and heft her off her feet. Instinctively, she curls her legs around his waist, and he crosses his arms under her. They share a smile, his is fond and amused, hers is small and shy, she's such a shy little thing, his little apprentice.

He leans in close, pressing his forehead against hers, and their eyes meet. "Did you just _giggle_?" He whispers for only her to hear. She smiles again, nodding slightly, and it makes him beam in joy to know that he made his beloved shy little apprentice giggle so adorably. "You _did_?" She nods again and he smiles, leaning forward to kiss her nose lightly, it makes her giggle softly once more. "You're absolutely adorable, my little apprentice." She blushes lightly and averts her eyes. "It's a sweet little giggle. Can I hear it again?" She refuses to meet his eyes, so he leans in and kisses her nose again, she giggles softly, and her eyes lift to his. "I love it. It's so cute."

Someone clears their throat, and he turns to see who has interrupted them, his brother smiles at him knowingly. "Yes, Constantine?" Little Araton blushes and ducks to hide against his shoulder, trying to shrink away from any prying eyes, her shyness is endearing. "Sorry to interrupt, it was rather heartwarming—" he narrows his eyes slightly. "Out with it _little _brother." The younger Virtue nods lightly. "Did you finish the ointment I needed?"

Zed nods to the jar on the work bench, the other Virtue nods, smiling in appreciation, and reaches forward to take it from them.

With their privacy returned, he turns back to his little charge, she's still hiding in his shoulder. He brushes his nose against her neck, goose pimples form over the soft skin, and he presses his lips to a spot under her ear. She giggles softly against his shoulder. "Let's go upstairs. I want to hear more of that soft little giggle."

He carries her out from behind their work benches, away from their work station, and through the threshold of the Infirmary back to the stone steps that lead up to their home above. He closes the door to their room with his foot, nudging her neck with his nose lightly, urging her to come out of her hiding place against his shoulder. "You can come on out, we back in our room, no prying eyes can see you."

Araton nods against his shoulder, sitting back up, leaning back in his hold. He smiles up at her adoringly, bouncing her lightly, and she curls her fingers into his shoulders. "I repeat myself, you're absolutely adorable, I don't regret snatching you up at first sight." She smiles at him, a soft small smile, and it melts his heart to goo. "And, you're all mine." The Virtue leans forward, kissing her nose again, basking in the giggles it produces. "I'm sharing those precious little giggles with anyone else." He walks forward, one of his hands coming up to cradle the back of her head, as he leans over and lays her down on his bed. "They're all mine."

She looks up at him with shining hazel eyes. "Thank you for taking me even though I'm weird."

"You're the farthest thing from being _'weird'_." He holds himself up with his hands, placed on either side of her head, she gazes up at him with a happiness shining in her eyes that only he has the privilege of seeing. "You're loving, kind, brilliant, and adorable." The elder apothecary shakes his head lightly. "But, most certainly not _'weird'_. They're all idiots who can't see what's right in front of them. I saw." He leans down to kiss her forehead lightly. "I saw and I snatched you right up."

He presses his forehead against hers, rubbing their noses together, and she smiles up at him. "Now, about that giggle, that sweet little giggle of yours." She scrunches up her nose when he presses his lips to the tip. "Your little waist can make you giggle." He lifts his head, looking at the side of her neck playfully "What about here? Does your little neck make you giggle?" He leans down, pressing his nose into her neck, and she giggles airily, her shoulder scrunching up on him. "Oh, it does. Wonderful." She giggles brightly as he presses his lips to her neck to give her a soft playful kiss against the sensitive skin. He takes a deep breath, the giggles slowly winding down, and blow out softly into her neck. Araton shrieks softly, hands flying up to grip at his tunic, curling into the soft fabric. "Oh, that was a bit more then a soft little giggle, let me hear that again." He takes another deep breath and blows out again, he gains a similar shriek and he smiles against the soft skin under him. "You're so precious."

Her giggles are continuous, like little bubbles floating in the air around them, and he pulls back to press their foreheads together again. "I just can't get enough of you." Kissing her nose again. "I'm the luckiest angel in all of Heaven." Araton giggles brightly, leaning forward to kiss his chin, and he smiles at the light peck of a kiss. "You're a cheesy angel." Rubbing their noses together. "I'm _your _cheesy angel." She giggles again. "Am I _yours_ too?"

He nods seriously. "Yes, you are. All mine. I'm not sharin'." He leans in to kiss her nose again. "You're my cute little kitten."

"I like kittens."

"I know you do. Do you want one?"

She looks up at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly ajar. "I can…I can _have _a kitten?"

"Yes. If you want a kitten, we'll get you a kitten, what are you going to name it?"

"Nibbles."

"It's the perfect name."

He leans back, laying one of his hands on her belly. "Okay, kitten, we know your little waist and your little neck make you giggle, what about your little belly?" She giggles. "I'll take that as a _'yes_, seeing as I'm not even doing anything, my hands literally just laying there." He twitches his fingers and she shrieks softly. "Oh ho, what's this, is your little belly gonna be really ticklish?" He lefts his hand, her giggles never ceasing, and she shrieks again when he pokes a finger into her lower belly. "This, this has got to be my favorite spot yet." He pokes another finger into her belly, two at the same time, and she squirms lightly. "Oh, it makes you squirm too, this just gets better and better."

Zed falls still, staring down at her, her bright giggly eyes staring back up at him. "What about this?" he digs five fingers lightly into her belly, palm pressed over her belly button, fingers spread out wide, and she shrieks again as she arches her back slightly. "Oh, my, my, someone _does _have a ticklish little belly." He tilts his head playfully. "I wonder…." Araton giggles continuously, watching closely, as he pulls the bottom of her tunic up, only slightly, and leans forward to press his lips to the small piece of bare belly that's revealed for him. He chuckles softly when she shrieks softly, arching her back again, and kisses her belly softly. "What about this?"

Taking a deep breath, the Virtue blow out on her belly, and he's rewards with a bright squeal from his shy little kitten of an apprentice. He laughs softly against her belly, her hands having let go of his tunic to clutch at his hair, perhaps his slight beard only adds to the sensation. "I have to repeat myself, this belly, this is my favorite spot." He moves his head slightly, presses his lips to her belly again, and blows out just as much as he did the first time. Araton squeals again, arching her back lightly, and he smiles as he pulls back. "Adorable. You're adorable."

He curls his hands around her small ones, folding her fingers within his as he pulls them away from his hair, he presses his lips to the little hands he holds within his. "I've never heard something so wonderful before. I adore you, little kitten, with all my heart."

"I love you too, Z."

Zed was her first and greatest friend. He made her laugh, now that he knew how to, and held her when she caught the wind of the others in her class whispering about her under the impression that she couldn't hear them and broke down, let her explore her curiosity in the fine art he taught her. He didn't think she was weird. He thought she was amazing. He got mad at the others when he caught them talking badly about her. He'd scold them harshly and dismiss them back to their dorms for the rest of the day. He treated her like she was special, he made her feel special, he was hers just as much as she was his.

He leans forward to kiss her forehead. "Should we return to our work below?"

Araton yawns softly and shakes her head, nodding back into his pillow, and he chuckles lightly. "No." Kissing her forehead again, he leans forward, pressing his to hers. "Do you want to take a nap now, little kitten?"

"Yes, please."

"Okay. We can take a nap."


	39. Sticking Together

The thoughts are accelerating inside his head. He wants them to slow down so he can remember to breathe but they won't. His breaths come in gasps and he feels the distinct shadow of darkness overtaking his vision. His heart is hammering inside his chest as though it belongs to a rabbit running for its skin. The field around him begins to spin and he squats against the dirt, trying to make everything slow to something his brain and body can cope with.

He feels sick. He's going to be sick. It's so dizzying. He wants to call for help but they're all to far away. On the other side of the Training Field, he's supposed to be guiding the higher classes in hand to hand. They're too far away. They're too far away. They're too far away. He doesn't know who to call, if he can call, is his voice still working. Who does he call, what's his name, who to call, too far away…..blackness…creeping blackness….He's on the dirt ground in the fetal position.

Where is he, what's his name, who to call, what's their name, the ground is hard, the field is spinning….blackness.

An invisible hand clasps over his mouth; an equally ghostly hypodermic of adrenaline pierces his heart, unloading in an instant. He feels his ribs heaving as if bound by ropes, straining to inflate his lungs. His head is a globe of fears spinning out of control, each one pushing his mind into blackness. He wants to run; he can't move. Sounds that are near feel far away, like he's no longer in the body that lies paralyzed on the rough dirt.

He can't breathe, oh Father, he can't breathe.

Help.

Help me.

Help.

"Han…Hani…." The voice, he knows the voice, follow the voice. "Haniel!"

There's warmth behind him, someone is hovering over him, the bright sun doesn't shine in his eyes anymore. It takes him an extreme amount of energy to look over, to get his eyes to move, the mere inch that he needs them to in order to see who's there.

"Haniel!" He knows that voice, he knows who it belongs to, what's his name. "Haniel, can you hear me?"

There's a soft grunt, is that him, is he the one grunting. He hopes its him.

"Haniel, can I touch you?" He feels the presence of hands hovering over him, waiting for permission, he appreciates it. "Is it okay if I touch you, Haniel?"

There's another grunt, he knows its him now, he's grunting.

Hands curl around his arm firmly, tugging him around, he gazes upon a face, he knows this face, why can't he place the name.

"Nisroc, he's having a panic attack."

"I can see that, Titus, thank you." Hands slowly uncurl his arms from around himself, it hurts, his muscles ache, why can't he loosen up. "Hani, Hani it's Nis, we're here." He stares up at him, he knows that face, he knows that name. "N…..i..s…?" is that him trying to talk? It sounds like him.

"I'm here, baby brother." A hand presses firmly to his chest. "We're all here." A hand cradles the left side of his face, it's cool to the touch, he's so hot. He likes the coolness, he leans into it, and presses closer. "We're going to help you upstairs, okay, we're going to go somewhere cooler and quieter, okay?" He nods, his head jerks lightly, another face appears. He knows that face too. That's Abraxos. He likes Abraxos. Abraxos always pokes him in the belly when they pass each other. They're close like that. Abraxos smiles down at him gently. "Let's get you to your feet, baby brother."

Hands curl under his shoulders, hook under his arms, and his world spins as he's lifted from the ground. They curl his arms around their shoulders, he's walking, is he walking, it feels more like stumbling, he's stumbling across the dirt of the Training Field.

He knows others are watching. It's quite the spectacle, a Power losing his faculties, dropping to the dirt like that. He doesn't blame them for staring. He'd stare too.

They're carrying him. There's no other way they got him across the field and to the stares that lead to the Pavilion above, other then the fact that they're carrying him, they have to be, there's no way he's walking.

Oh, that's soft, he likes whatever they sit him against, it's soft. Someone slides in behind him, their knees appear just outside the blackness creeping into his vision, arms curl around him firmly, a hand around his forehead pulls his head back to lay against someone's chest, a stubbly chin brushes against the side of his forehead. He can feel the rise and fall of their chest, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Should he be breathing like that? He wants to. His chest is starting to hurt.

"Do you feel me breathing, Hani?"

He knows that voice too, he knows that voice rather well, they talk every morning. "P…ur…i…?"

"That's it, baby brother, it's Puri." A hand presses firmly to his chest. "You need to calm you're breathing, baby brother, do you feel my breathing?"

He nods, he knows he's nodding, he focuses on the rise and fall of the chest behind him and tries to mimic it, he struggles at first, he struggles terribly, but then he starts to manage. He takes a deep breath, holds it for a long moment, and then he lets it go.

"There we are, that's it baby brother, focus and mimic."

"Pu…ri….Hur…ts.."

The hand around his forehead, the fingers, they rub over his temple. "I know it does, baby brother, once you calm down I can give you something for the ache."

"Here, Hani, I'm going to press this to your forehead, okay?"

That's Titus, he knows Titus, they throw jokes at each other all the time. He nods lightly. The hand moves away from his forehead and something cool is pressed to it, it feels so nice, he's still so hot. "Let's get you cooled down, baby brother." Yea, that'd be nice, please help Tus. Someone's kneeling next to Tus, he remembers him, that's Abe, the one that pokes his belly. He's holding a cup up to his mouth. "Take a sip, baby brother, it'll help your sore parched throat."

He leans forward, his lips curl over the edge of the cup, and cold sweet water enters his mouth and splashes down his burning throat.

"N..is….Ni..s…" He takes another sip. "N..is?"

"I'm here, baby brother, I'm right here.

There he is, he disappeared for a minute, but he's back. Oh, that's a tunic, he's holding a tunic. His Captain, his big brother, Nis kneels before him, Tus and Abe part for him. "Let's get you into a new tunic, that one's all covered in dirt." Abraxos and Titus help him lift his arms, they're so heavy, like rocks, his dirty tunic is pulled over his head and the clean one pulled down in it's place. "There's a good angel. Now, let's lay you back, easy now." He's sliding, Puriel's moving, no, don't go anywhere, don't leave, was that whine from him. He thinks it was him who whined. Fingers stroke over his forehead. "I'm not going anywhere, baby brother, let's just get you laying down." Okay. He can do that. They're not leaving, that's what Puri said, they're just laying him down. Oh, that's a soft blanket, he likes that blanket, it smells like Nis.

Warm lips press to his forehead, a beard brushes over the skin, and he closes his eyes at the feeling. "Take a rest, baby brother, we're not going anywhere."


	40. Protecting Baby Brother

"I know it was you." He stiffens at the approach of the one behind him. "Who else would play such a trick against us all?"

"I'm in the middle of something."

Fingers wave over his shoulder, and he watches as the class he'd been instructing parts in dismissal, arms curl around his waist from behind and he looks down at the hands that meet in front of him.

"What were you saying?"

He smiles despite himself, turning, looking up at his older brother. "Hey, Nis." His older brother returns his smile, pecking his cheek lightly. "Hello, baby brother."

"Would it help if I said I was sorry?"

The Captain chuckles lowly. "It would not." And buries himself into the side of his neck.

…

Haniel stared at him in shock, his mouth hanging open, as the others rushed forward, leaving him standing there on his own. Nisroc stood in front of him, vouching for his honor, parlaying terms from their Archangel, requesting the opportunity to show the youngest what it truly meant to be a fearsome Power. Thaddeus stood there, looking so smug, his hand curled tightly around the grip of his whip, he turns to look at him with wide, fearful eyes, the Warden looked so smug.

"Give me time, let me show him, he can learn." Nisroc stepped forward, his finger curled tightly around the hilt of his sword, his loyalty was with his Archangel, but his heart was with his brothers. "As his Captain. Let me have this task."

Michael glared at him from over his Captain's shoulder, jerking his head in the form of a nod. "You have one week."

"Thank you," he bows his head. "Thank you."

Nisroc turns stiffly, dismissing the others with a wave of his hand, and takes hold of the shoulder of his tunic harshly as he tugs him around. "Come on." Haniel stumbles as he's yanked forward, curling his fingers around his older brothers wrist, tugging experimentally. The others depart, separating from their side, not sparing them a simple glance as they strode down the hall, in the direction of his office.

"Nis! Nis, what's going on! Nis! Where are we going!"

"Be silent." He's shoved forward forcefully, he stumbles over his feet, nearly tripping as he's thrown into the office. The others wait for them there, sans Thaddeus, anxiously waiting for their own arrival. Haniel stumbles around as his older brother walks in behind him and closes the door behind him.

"Nis!" His voice cracks in fear. "What's going on!"

"Nothing, baby brother, nothing's going to happen to you." His older brother, his Captain, steps forward and pulls him into a warm embrace. Haniel stiffens for a moment, and slowly, he folds around his older brother. "No one is going to change you. You are perfect just the way you are. We'll protect you."

…

His chest rumbles with a chuckle as he slides up against him, an arm raised for him to duck under, and he presses his ear to his chest to listen to the heart beat thump under his chuckles. Fingers tangle in his curls, and he sighs in comfort, closing his eyes lightly.

"Rough day?"

"The roughest. You are so mean."

Another rumble of chuckles. "I'm your Captain, I'm supposed to ensure you're working at your full potential."

"You had me plank for fifteen minutes."

A finger tapped to his lips gently. "You got mouthy."

"I'm your baby brother." He smiles slightly. "I'm supposed to be mouthy."

There's the soft sound of a book closing, and his brother slides out from under him, turning over to loom over him instead. He smiles up at him, laying between his arms, his older brother returns his smile. "Is that so?"

"Only speaking the truth."

"Then, if that be truth, as your older brother." He lowers himself slowly. "It's my job to make you feel like a fledgling again."

"Nis! No!"

He chuckles against his neck. "I have to, little Hani, it's my job."

…

The laughter of the Powers giggled airily as he watched his older brother loom over him, his arms captive above his head by one of his other older brothers, Nisroc smiled down at him, cracking his fingers lightly. "Hold him down." He knelt beside him, sitting on his knees lightly, and leaned over menacingly. "It's my turn."

When ten fingers pressed against his bare belly, he knew he was going to regret every prank he'd ever played against his older brother.

When he pressed his lips to his belly, rubbing his beard in, he knew he was going to die.


	41. Baby Blues

"Hani," hands curled around the fledglings middle and lifted him from his place on the floor, crawling against the stone, heading for the stairs. "Where are you going, baby brother?" He's turned around, and big familiar blue eyes meet his brilliant green, and the fledgling giggles excitedly. "is! 'is!" The older angel chuckles and lifts him up, leaning back, as he lifts him above his head. "Were you looking for me?"

"P'ay?"

"You want to play with big brother?"

The fledgling bounces in his embrace, reaching down with little grasping hands, and he chuckled as he accommodated the fledgling by pulling him close again. Little fingers curled over his beard, petting lightly, the fledgling gave a giggly coo.

"is p'ay w' 'ani?"

He kisses at the little fingers petting his beard, chasing his little hands playfully, the fledgling leans back with a happy giggle.

"What does baby brother want to play?"

…

They all sat in a circle, legs crossed or outstretched, watching the giggly fledgling seated in the middle of their circle chewing on the fingers of his left hand. He looked between them all, chewing away contentedly, making small mewing noises of content. His eyes came to rest on one of them, smiling brightly, he pulled his fingers from his mouth and reached out. "Pu'i! Pu'r up!"

The older angel raises his hands. "Come on then."

Little fingers flexed demandingly. "P'ui! Upppp!"

The medic shakes his head softly. "You've got to walk to big brother."

Tears gathered in little brilliant green eyes, fingers flexing again, and they all watched in amusement as their brother's resolve nearly crumbled. Who could resist those baby eyes when they watered so adorably.

"Come, baby brother, big brother wants a hug." He flexed his own fingers at the fledgling. The little thing tilted his head, little curls bouncing with the movement, cooing softly as he pulls his fingers back in his mouth. "Pu'I wan' 'ug!"

"Pu'i wants a big hug."

The little fledgling pulled his fingers from his mouth again, little curls bouncing as he slowly, wobbly, pushed himself up to his feet. He stumbled, hands raised, for the medic that wanted a big hug. Puriel smiles at him, flexing his fingers encouragingly. "Come on, baby brother, come to Pu'i."

"Pu'i 'ug!" Their little fledgling stumbled with each wobbly step. "Pu'i 'ug!"

He stumbled forward, nearly falling over, curls bouncing with ever movement, and hands curled around his middle and pulled him into a warm cuddle of a hug. Little Hani curled his arms around his big brothers neck and hugged him close. "ig 'ug!"

"Thank you, baby brother."

He giggled, leaning back. "Pu'i 'iss?"

"You want a kiss?"

The baby fledgling nodded happily, puckering his little lips up, and the medic chuckled as he leaned forward and pecked his little lips. "Good?"

"Nother! 'ore 'iss!"

"Can I kiss you're little belly?"

Baby Hani giggled adorably, they all smiled at the sound. "Elly 'iss!"

…

"I forgot how adorable you were as a fledgling."

"Not a word, Nis."

"You kept asking Puri to kiss your belly."

"Not a _word_."

"I could kiss your belly."

"Nis! _Nis! _Get _off!_ Nihihis Nohoho!"


	42. The Fever Gives It Away

"Hey papa."

He smiles at the voice, sparing a glance upwards, polishing his sword silently in the empty Armory. "Hello, Jory."

The boy smiles at the pet-name, crossing from the doorway, coming to sit next to the Power on the bench. He pauses slightly, turning to gaze at the familiar tunic, raising an eyebrow. "Is that Andre's tunic?"

"Yea."

The warrior nods, turning back to his polishing, humming under his breath lightly. His son sighs softly, slumping down, looking about the Powers Armory.

"Wait a minute." He pauses, sitting up lightly. "You never call me that unless…" The boy turns away from him when he looks up to spy what the matter could be. "Jordon, what has happened?"

"Nothing pa—dad."

"Look at me."

Hesitantly, the boy turns to face him, and he takes in the damage for himself. His eyes narrow at the flush to his cheeks, the light sheen that came with a fever, and he frowns as he reaches out to feel for the heat rising from his skin. He presses the back of his hand to his forehead, then to his cheeks, frowning in disapproval. "How long have you been sick?"

"I'm not."

"Jordon."

His child ducks again. "For the last week."

"Right." Titus sets his sword aside, dusting his hands off, and stands from the bench he's taken up occupancy on. He reaches out for his son, and Jordon stands with him, leaning against his side as the Power turns them from the room. "We'll stop by Uncle Puri's room first, and then we'll get you into bed."

"Okay papa."

They walk passed the Captain's office, the soft chatter of his daughter coming through the crack of the door, vaguely they could see her slim figure sitting on the edge of his desk, back facing them. Titus guided him up the first step. "Why did you change shirts?"

"I…" Jordon looks down with embarrassment. "I got sick on mine. Andre let me have one of his. He promised not to say anything."

"Your older brother cares a lot about you."

They stopped at his uncles room first, Puriel had frowned at the sight of him, nodding at the request for some tonics. He gathered what he thought they would need and gave them to his brother.

Pressing his hand to his nephews temple, he addressed him. "Next time, just tell one of us, little nephew."


	43. A Little Buttering Up

"Hey papa!"

He smiles, looking down at the small arms that curl around his waist, shaking his head fondly as he continues passing out the wooden swords to their newest and youngest. Fingers curl into his tunic tightly, and it brings him to shake his head again, reaching down to squeeze her hands when he's finished passing out the practice swords. "Hello my little one."

She smiles, he knows she's smiling, she loves being called _his_ little one.

"What are you doin today, papa?"

"I'm doing my duty." He tugs her around, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close to lean against his front. "What does it appear I am doing?"

"Being a good papa."

He leans down to kiss her nose lightly. "What do you want, little Ava?"

"Can't I just want to be with my papa?"

"I love having you at my side, but I know you rather well, you never call me _'papa'_ unless there is something you want."

She giggles softly. "You know me _really_ well."

The Power Captain smiles down at her. "I like to think I do." He squeezes her lightly. "So, tell me what you want."

"You love me, right?"

"With all my heart."

Ava nods lightly. "Can I borrow your sword?"

"Absolutely not."

"Awwweeee! Why!"

Nisroc leans down to kiss her nose again. "Because I said so."

"I hate it when you say that."

…

"Hi daddy!"

His companion snorted, elbowing him gently in the ribs, and he curled his fingers around the throbbing spot as he turned to glare at them halfheartedly. "Yes, Oren?"

"Baby sister's in trouble."

"I am not!"

He turned away from his archangel. "Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

Raphael felt a headache coming on, a common feeling when surrounded by these two, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He adored them, he really did, but they could try on anyone's nerves if they weren't stopped before it got out of hand.

"Enough." He looks between them both fondly. _"Children."_

"Hey!"

"_He's_ the child!"

He straightens, chuckling at their antics, winding his arms around their shoulders. He pulls his daughter close against his side and the Virtue in step with him, and they make their rounds through the Infirmary, listening to their soft chattering from either side.

"_She's_ the child."

"Watch yourself, Oren, _she's _my child."

"That's right daddy."

The archangel turns slightly, kissing the side of her head. "Now, tell me what trouble you've gotten into."

…

He was just finishing up his instruction, preparing himself for the walk through the trainees, when a familiar set of eyes met his. He smiled despite himself, walking through the lingering young angels, to meet at this special one's side.

Curling his arm around his shoulders, he pulled the boy close. "Hello, Jordy."

"Hey papa."

The Power chuckles softly, rubbing his arm lightly, guiding him through his squadron of trainees. "What do you want, young little Jordy?"

His boy looks up at him with wide eyes. "What makes you think I want something?"

"Hmm, let's see," he made a show of rubbing his chin. "Could it be that you called me _'papa'_?"

Jordon smiles at his dad knowingly, he knows him really well, and leans into his side. "Well, there is one little thing."


	44. Beware The Juice

"This is useless."

She threw her hands up dramatically before falling forward on the table, crossing her arms over her head, the others shifted around her. Though they had promised to help her remake her journal, none of them had signed on for testing her concoctions personally, thus they had come to a dead end.

"We could give it to them."

They all looked over to her, Gzel motioned to the ones around them, working on their tasks for the day. She was always one to take the opportunity to get one over on the Virtues, it was in their relationship, they had a special kind of bond.

"But…" Inca looked at her in alarm. "But we don't know what it could do."

"It's not like it would hurt them." She waved at the apothecary in training. "Ara would never let someone try one of her concoctions if she thought it would hurt someone."

"That is true. I don't remember the exact side affects are. But I know it won't hurt anyone."

Gzel clasped her hands tightly. "Come on! We could, I don't know, mix it in some juice or something! It'll be hilarious to see what it does!"

"I don't know." Orion curled her fingers around the straps of her apron nervously. "What if they get mad at us?"

Her sister touched her arm lightly, a fleeting feeling, and she turned to look over at her with wide eyes. "If they get mad then I'll take the fall."

"You promise?"

Gzel nodded. "I promise." That seemed to sedate her worries, and Orion nodded, she was never one to pass up an opportunity to play games with their guardian, Akriel always took it with good humor, and Gzel promised to take the fall if he got mad. "Okay."

They watched her part from their group, stop one of the passing elders, and took a clay jug from their hands. She returned a moment later and set it down next to their friend. "Mix it up."

Gzel elbowed Inca lightly. "I love it when she gets like this."

Araton stared at the mental specialists girl for a long minute, and shrugged lightly, tipping the small bowl of mystery concoction into the jug. She stirred it with her spoon, and nodded when the mixture thinned out, completely mixed within the liquid in the clay jug.

"Okay. It's ready."

The quiet little healer nodded, lifting three cups up from the bottom shelf, and poured out equal amounts of the liquid into both of them. They all eyed the cups for a long moment, unbelieving that they were actually about to do this, and exchanged a quiet look between each other in silenced awe. Gzel took her cup and grinned slightly. "Ready?"

Inca nodded, reaching for his own cup, and curled his fingers around it carefully as to not accidently drop it.

Araton nodded in time with him, taking hold of her own cup, eyeing it carefully as though to ensure that it was thoroughly mixed together. Nodding once more, she looked up to her new friends, Zed was her first, and with him came the others.

"Ready."

Gzel grinned, nodding in time with her, and turned on her heel. They watched her for a second, Inca sighed and turned away, crossing the threshold for the Captain on the other side, and Araton turned her head to look at her elder apothecary.

Zed had a good sense of humor. But, was this taking it too far?

"Z, I made you a cool drink."

The elder apothecary looked up from the files he had been sifting through, blinking in surprise, smiling at her appearance. "You made me a drink?"

"Some juice."

He set his files aside absently, reaching for the cup in her hand, and she gladly handed it over. Waiting patiently, she twiddled her fingers, waiting for him to take a sip. Her master eyed her from over the cup, taking in her appearance, the nervous tick playing in her fingers, and he sniffed the drink lightly for any tell sign of foul play.

Behind her, there was two shouts of surprise, Oren and Akriel having fallen for their trick and downed the juice, and the others laughed as they spit out their gifted drink.

Zed narrowed his eyes at her. "Were you..Were you trying to get me to drink something other then juice?"

"No?"

He leans forward, setting the undrunk cup of juice on the table, and slowly climbed to his feet. "Do you know what _my _master did when I tried to do that to him?"

Araton shakes her head. "No."

"Let me show you."


	45. The Smallest Details

"Are you…Are you wearing one of the _Powers _tunics?"

Each one of the four legions wore a distinct type of tunic, it was all in the embroidery, the design was the matter, and the tunic he wore was very distinct in its embroidery. He sleeps shirtless, something he's done since he was a small fledgling, and when he had woken up that morning, the Power long since having woken for training that day, he had thrown on the first tunic he found and left it at that.

But, now, looking down at the tunic he wore, he knew what mistake he had made.

It was much too big for his lithe frame, something he hadn't really taken note of until now, and the embroidery, the embroidery was very particular.

"Uhm.." How does he answer that question without giving way to the Power's favor. "No?"

"Of course, he's not." He knew that voice, he turned to glare over his shoulder, at the owner of the voice. They'd been at odds longer then ever. "Why would someone like a _Power _take notice of _him_?" His opponent looks him over with distaste. "He's small, runty, as thin as a stick, much too thin to be a guard." He sneers at him. "How could a _Power _ever give _him _the time of day?"

"Shut up, Theliel."

"Why?" The taller guard in training shoves him back. "It's true. What'd you do?" He reaches forward to shove him again. "_Steal _from one of them. Trying to make yourself seem special by wearing one of their tunics? As though they would give you one. As though they would pay attention to someone as weak as you."

"I didn't steal it!"

"You had too." Theliel sneers at him again. "There's no other way the likes of you could get something from them."

Andreus straightens up from being shoved so meanly, dusting the front of his tunic off. "Why are you so mean to me! I'm nothing but nice to you!"

"Because, you think you're better then everyone else." Theliel shoves him again. "Always staying after training has ended. Trying to aim for things that are clearly out of reach for those like you."

"I'm a hard worker." He narrows his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean? The _'likes of me'_?"

"You know. A simple _miracle worker_. You're not even high enough in station to be a trainee. How you managed to get here is beyond my comprehension. All your kind is good for is little tricks and miracles, healing sick people, making things happen at random, that's it. You're not _strong. _You're not _fearsome_."

"Miracle workers are strong too!"

"Sure you are, in magic, that's all your good at."

Andre rushes forward, shoving him harshly in the chest, Theliel stumbles back a step in surprise.

"I work hard because hard work gets you what you want! I work hard because I have _ambitions_!" Theliel straightens just as quickly as he did, his fingers curling into fists, at the audacity of someone like a mere _miracle worker _touching him. "Things aren't handed down on a _silver plater _for everyone!" He straightens up, standing to his full 5'11" height, and squares his shoulders. "I earn what I want because, unlike you, it was handed down to me by the one that _raised_ me!"

"You should have stayed with your kind." Theliel takes the first swing, and given the amount of extra training he puts in, Andre ducked under his fist and turned, catching him by the wrist as he thrust his elbow back into his diaphragm. The bigger boy huffs in surprise, the wind cast from his lungs, choking on a breath deep in his throat. "We are our own kind."

"What is going on in here?"

The others scattered at the arrival of the voice, stern and reprimanding at the site of a scuffle in his barrack, not wanting to fall under his firm, angered at those responsible for a quarrel breaking out in _his _barrack.

"Andre, what are you doing?" A large hand curls in the collar of his stolen tunic and tugs him forward. "Did you attack Theliel?"

"No!"

"He did!" The bested trainee is quick to jump to his own defense in the wake of being on the wrong end of the Power's temper. "All I did was ask him a question and he just jumped at me!"

"Is that so?"

Andreus tugs on his sleeve insistently. "I did not!" The Power reaches over for his hand to stop him and curls his fingers around the small appendage to pull it away from his sleeve. "All you did was ask him a question?"

"It's true!"

"Very well, why don't you return to your studies, I'll take care of it."

Theliel made a face at the thought of returning to his studies, clearly not first on his list of things to do during his free time but nodded as to not attract the Power's ire. He curls his fingers over the other young boys shoulder and steers him around, Andre still trying to speak his case, they all know what happens to those that face their Mentor's temper.

"And Theliel," they stop just in the doorway. "You're a horrible liar." Theliel blushes a deep crimson. "Your nose twitches." His hand flies up to cover it.

He guides his young charge out the door and turns them down the hall. Andre tugs on his hand, it's still wrapped around his, adamant on speaking his case. "Tus, I didn't jump at him! I swear!"

"I know you didn't, Andre, calm down." He squeezes his hand in return, guiding him around the corner into his office, back behind his desk. Sitting heavily, he pats the desk with his free hand, and the young trainee takes that as his invitation to hop up. "How long has he been bullying you?"

Andre averts his eyes. "Not long."

"You're just as horrid a liar as he is." He leans forward to nudge his chin with a knuckle. "How about we try for the truth?"

"Since the beginning."

"Why didn't you come to me, Andre?"

There is a hint of hurt in his voice, knowing that someone was hurting one so close to his heart and there hadn't been anything he could do to put a stop to it, and that it was because he hadn't thought to come to him.

Andre inhales deeply. "I didn't want to look weak." He refuses to look up to meet his gaze. "Sorry."

"It's not okay." He jerks quickly when Titus reaches forward to squeeze his knee teasingly, his head shooting up, their eyes meeting again. "But I understand."

Titus smiles at him, and he returns it unwittingly, he loves Titus. He never stays mad for too long. He leans forward to tug at the front of his tunic.

"Are you wearing one of my tunics?"

He blushes brightly, looking down at the fine tunic he wears, much too big for his lithe frame, and curls in on himself. "It was the first thing I grabbed." He chances a glance upwards, taking in his unofficial guardians amused smirk. "It is okay?"

"It's so big on you."

"You're a big angel."

"I'm a what?" The Power curls his fingers around his lower thigh lightly. "Tread lightly."

"A good angel."

"That's what I thought you said." He squeezes lightly and he still jerks, a light shriek escaping him as he tries to pull his leg back with all his might, struggling when a hand curls around his ankle to keep him from moving, and the other climbs up his thigh carefully. "I don't like how I found out you've been being bullied by another soul in your training squadron."

"Tuhuhuhus!"

"You don't think what he said is true, do you?"

"Plehehehease!"

"Because it's not."

He tries to kick at him with his free foot but it makes no deterrence. "Lehehehet gohohoho!"

"You're my little warrior. I'd do anything for you. I don't care if you wear my tunics." He curls his fingers underneath, pinching at the meat of his under thigh, and the boy shrieks again, squirming in his seat. "Tuhuhuhus! Plehehehease!"

"This is adorable. I should do this more often." He squeezes rather harshly, smirking when he pulls a squeal from the boy. "You're going to come to me if this happens again, aren't you?"

"Yehehes!"

"Good boy."

He pulls his hands away, leaning back in his chair, smiling as Andre slowly catches his breath as he tries to rub the remaining tingles away. "Seriously though, I don't care if you wear my tunics, it's so _big _on you, you little thing you."

"Tus, you're so embarrassing."

"What?" He shrugs it off. "I think it's cute."

"I'm not cute. I'm fearsome."

"Fearsomely cute."

"Tuuuusssss!"


	46. You Ruined My Life

"Abe, you'll take these ones."

She watched her older brother take the files from the Captain. There was an elephant in the room that none of them had wanted to address, one that most certainly needed addressed at some point, but they were all presently avoiding at the moment.

Another sorting, another training class to divide up among them, another set of students being taken under their tutelage.

She slowly stills her kicking feet, curling her fingers around the edge of his desk she's taken as her seat, looking down quietly as the change truly shows itself to them all. Time had stopped for her, the moment she was cast out, stripped of her title and position, torn from her brothers sides, but it hadn't stopped for them. Of course, it wouldn't. It was business as usual for them; fighting, training, teaching, nothing stopped in their worlds. Life had continued on.

There were so many in the ranks now that she didn't know, names she had never learned, faces she hadn't gotten to commit to memory. Friendships she'd missed out on. Lives she hadn't gotten to be a part of.

None of them knew her. They didn't know her name. Know that she used to be a Power, the only female Power, the first and last (for now). They knew nothing about her. They looked to her in confusion, wondering as to why she stood by their sides, why she talked to them as though they had some familial relationship, how she knew the Captain so well to be able to converse with him so freely.

And all because of one poor decision. A judgement well made. But a poor decision made at poor timing, none the less.

She was back now. Back home. Back at her brothers side. Back in their fold, their family. But she was still an outcast, ostracized, isolated from the others.

Time hadn't started again.

It was still on pause.

A clock with dead batteries.

She had no place in this world. Not anymore. She wasn't even a warrior anymore, not technically, having refused to come back to his flock. She was flockless. She couldn't follow anyone, not a single order, not after they had sat back and watched her be cast from her family and her home. She only stayed with them because she had no where else to go. She didn't even have a place among them, not technically, they could kick her out at any time, any moment they desired to have the extra space that was her room.

It was theirs for the taking.

Hurt bubbled inside her, pulling at her like waves pulled at the sand of a beach, sadness settled on her heart. Anger boiled in her blood.

Gripping the edge of the desk, she hoped down lightly, her head bowed as she stepped between two of her tall brothers and turned out the door, the silence trailing behind her.

It was the elephant in the room that no one wanted to address.

They watched her go, as silent as the night, head bowed away from them. Silence folded over them, as they exchanged concerned glances, wanting to follow after her but not knowing if they should. Abraxos stared at the door, the hand with the files slowly lowering, staring at the spot she had disappeared from. He turned to his Captain, Nisroc was concerned, his eyebrows scrunched together, she had been as silent as a church mouse for the better part of the week.

"Nis….?"

"Follow her."

More then one of them moved, she was closest to Abe, but they all adored her. She was their baby sister, she always would be, no matter time nor distance.

Abraxos lead them out of their Captains office, Puriel and Haniel close behind him, Titus and Nisroc at their heels.

It didn't take them long to find her.

They just had to follow her voice.

…

Her appearance so suddenly in the door way of his office startled him, her silence was unnerving in a certain way, and he sets his quill down to address her sudden appearance.

"Abra—"

"You ruined my life."

She cuts him off softly, fists curling at her sides, as she takes a deep breath and finally manages to lift her head to look him in the eyes.

"You took _everything _from me."

He stares at her.

"You _ruined _my life!" Her voice slowly began to rise. "You took my _brothers _from me, my _family_, you took _everything _from me!"

She stalks into his office.

"No one knows me, they don't _know _who I am, _none _of them know my name!"

Standing before his desk, he scoots back as she bends, swiping her arm over the top of his desk and knocks everything over. The parchments he'd been filling out ruined by the spilled ink, ceramic knick knacks shattered on the floor around them, and she breaths in deeply to steady her overturned temper.

"You _took _everything! My place! My title! My position! _Everything_!"

The Archangel is speechless, stunned by this sudden display, by the sudden outburst.

"I hope it _haunts _you!" She points a finger at him from over the other side of his desk. "I hope it _all_ haunts you!" Looking down at the ruined parchments, she reaches for them, thrusting them into his face. "I wish they all knew you, know who you really were, what you're really capable of!" And she throws them at him. "My world crumbled when you _cast me out_. I can only hope your world crumbled just as horribly as mine did. My world can never be rebuilt, and I hope, I _pray _that yours is _irreparable_."

"Aba!"

Abraxas jumps in surprise, the Archangel jolts at their sudden appearance behind her, as his arms curl around her waist and pull her back. Familiar arms, arms that used to hold her through everything, arms that she was yanked from as she was cast out. As she was banished. Exiled. _Forgotten. _

She struggled against his grip as he pulls her back from their archangel. "You took _everything _from me! You _ruined _my life! You _took _everything!" Her hair whips around as she struggled to pull herself free, as she kicks and squirms, lifted from her feet. "No one knows me! They don't _know _me! And it's _all _your _fault_!"

"Abraxos. Get her _out _of here."

The Captain's voice is firm, stern even, spitting out the order to remove her from the premises in the wake of her verbal attack. He nods, lifting her cleanly from her feet, leaning back slightly to hold her up, and he turns quickly to retreat from the room with Puriel and Haniel behind him.

…

"Put me down! Abe! Put me _down_!" She struggles in his grip, squirming and kicking and scratching, but he holds fast. "Let me _go!_ Put me down! Let go, Abe!"

"You need to calm down."

"You need to _put _me _down_!"

"Fine." He drops her, and she yelps, landing in a sprawled heap on the rug covered floor under them. "I'll put you down."

Abraxas glares up at him from her heap on the floor. "Ow, you imbecile!"

"Watch your mouth when you speak to me."

Steadily climbing back to her feet, the small angel shoves him as hard as she can, being so much shorter then he is, it barely makes him take a step back. "Why'd you take me!"

"Because you needed to calm down." He raises his hands placatingly. "Aba, why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't tell you _everything_!"

"Yes, you do!"

She huffs, looking between her three brothers, but her eyes ultimately fall on his. "Because...! Because you're not my brother, anymore!"

Abraxos frowns lightly, stepping forward towards her, hands still raised in a gesture for peace. "I'm _always _going to be your brother."

"But you're not!" She throws her hands up. "You moved on! Your world kept going!"

"_You _are my _world_." He takes another step forward, curling his fingers around the undercurve of her jaw lightly, tilting her head back. "You've been my _world _since you were that tiny little thing following me _everywhere _like a little duckling."

"But—"

"We'll introduce you to everyone."

"But—"

"Aba." He bows his head lightly. "I know you have a hard time believing in anyone else, but, please, believe in me."

Abraxas nods silently, tears pooling in her eyes, nodding again. He leans forward and kisses her forehead. "Come here, my little duckling." She folds herself against him, clutching at his tunic, and he feels the warmth of little tears. "I'm not going anywhere."

"_We're _not going anywhere." Nisroc had returned, curling his hand around the back of her head, and shares a nod with the others. "Your home is with us. We are here. You are home."


	47. Returning To Normal

He only breaks his stride when he comes to a sudden halt behind her, unheard from the clanging of swords from his training squadron, and he curls his fingers around her waist as he ducks quickly, lifting her up over his head, to be seated upon his shoulders. She yelps at the sudden change in elevation, as he stands back to his full height, fingers curling just under her knees.

"Nis!" She giggles out despite her attempts to stay them. "What are you _doing_?"

"I thought you'd be able to see better up there."

"I'm not that short, you giant!"

He chuckles as he turns them back around to face his students. "You're only kidding yourself, baby sister, you're teeny tiny."

"Well, fine, then, you're huge."

"You better mean huge, as in tall, huge."

She giggles, her fingers curling around the sloppy bun on the top of his head, shrugging despite him not being able to see it. "Well, I mean, I'm sorry no one told you this, but you have put on a bit of weight."

"We call it a dad bod." They looked up at the young voice, a mischievous boy stood there, smiling at them the smile of a trickster, and she laughs softly as her ride reaches forward with his left hand to smack him over the head. "Oh, would you get back to your class."

She giggles softly, tugging the hair tie off of his bun, brushing his long hair out with her fingers, as the boy snickers and ducks under his hand. He winks at them and darts off, ducking under his opponent, and swings around to kick his feet out from under him. "I like him. What's his name?"

"That's Paul. He's one of my charges."

"You have charge_s_?" She stills her fingers mid brush. "As in, more than one?"

"Yes, I have two, I have Paul," he points out a tall lithe boy sparring with the only female trainee among them. "And Sasha."

"You must be proud."

He nods, and she tugs at his hair for the movement, he peers up at her from over his shoulder for the action. "More then anything." She smiles down at him. "What are you doing, Aba?"

"Braiding your hair."

"Alright, I'll try to be as still as possible."

"Thank you."

…

"Here, have some chocolate."

Abraxas looks up at the treat held out to her in offering, then up to her brother munching on his own piece, he thrusts it back out at her encouragingly.

"Is it from your secret stash?"

He nods as he takes another bite of his beloved chocolate. She smiles and reaches out for it, savoring the taste as she takes a small nibble of a bite off the corner, she sighs in delight and closes her eyes at the warm velvety texture.

She takes another nibble. "Why'd you give me a piece of chocolate?"

"You looked like you could use a piece of chocolate."

"Did I look sad again?"

Puriel nods, finishing off his piece of the favored treat, rubbing his hands over the side of his trousers. "Nothing a good piece of chocolate can't fix, eat up, it'll make you feel better."

"Chocolate fixes everything?"

"Of course, it does." He crosses his arms lightly. "And I'm a medic, if anyone would know, it would be me."

"You're the best medic."

The Power smiles, tugging her closer by the front of her baggy tunic, curling his arms around her shoulders. "You're the best baby sister."

…

"So, you've been getting rather close to that pagan."

She looks up from her book at their approach. "So?"

They sit on either side of her, leaning back on their hands, looking down at her inquisitively. "When are we going to get to meet him?"

"Um." She sets the book aside and leans back with them. "Never."

"Unacceptable." Titus shakes his head firmly. "We need to meet this suitor if he thinks he can chase after our baby sister."

"He's nice! I promise!"

"If he's treating you right," Haniel shrugs. "Then, there's nothing to hide."

"We're _just _talking, guys!"

"Right, and that's _all _we'd do."

Aba shakes her head, a smile slowly crossing over her features, curling her arms around herself as she leans forward between them. "You guys would try and scare him."

"We would _never_ do such a thing."

"Come oooonnnnn, Aba!" Haniel leans forward with her, elbowing her arm lightly, smiling in older brotherly amusement. "Give us _something_."

"Okay, okay, something small."

Titus leans forward too, expectantly, leaning on his knees as he watches her attentively for this little piece of divulged information. "Okay, that's a start."

"His name's Pan."

"Where's he live?"

She laughs softly, shoving the tall, muscular in the side. Titus chuckles, though he attempts to remain serious enough, the effect is lost. "I'm not telling you that!"

He pokes her in the side lightly. "Oh, you'll tell me."

…

"No! Abe!" Her laughter echoes off the walls of the silent Pavilion, his squadron being the only one with a free day that particular day, as she ran through the hall, just out of his reach. "I'm sorry! Abe! No!"

"We're a sassy angel, aren't we!" He chases after her, laughing in time with her, and ducks as he closes the distance between them with a few quick strides. "Oh, ho, ho, how I missed this!"

She shrieks as he snags her around the waist, crashing back against his chest as he yanks her up off her feet, the sudden stop jolting them both. Her laughter rises in quantity, fingers tugging at his hands as he lifts her from her feet, leaning back lightly to pull her upwards.

"Remember what I used to do to you when you got sassy with me?"

Abraxas laughs brightly, scrunching her shoulders up, hiding her neck from him. He laughs at the action, digging his fingers into her lower sides, she shrieks and thrusts her arms back down again. It leaves the area wide open for attack, so he leans forward, burying his face in the side of her neck. She shrieks again, her shoulder scrunching up the best that it can given his position, bright, high pitched giggles escaping her when he kisses the smooth sensitive skin playfully.

"Ahahahhabe! Nohoho!"

He chuckles against her neck, rubbing his nose against the smooth skin lightly, and she tries to lean away from him. "I think you need to be retaught this lesson."

"I dohohohon't!"

"I think you do."

The Power pulls away from her neck, chuckling deeply, as he turns them around for to return to his room. When he drops her this time, in another heap, she bounces against the mattress of his bed. Giggling in anticipation, she crab crawls backwards, away from him.

Kneeling at the side of his bed, he snags her by the ankles, tugging her close again. "Come're you little duckling."

She laughs brightly, he's not even doing anything, and it makes him chuckle in amusement, as she tries to curl up on herself.

"I'm nohohot a duhuhuckling!"

"You're not?" He leans forward, on his elbows, between her legs. "Because you sure seem like one, to me."

"Ahahahabe!"

"And what's this I hear about a boy?"

She arches her back when he curls his fingers into her sides. "HAhahahani is suhuhuhuch a blahahahabber mouth!"

"Yes, yes he can be." He leans forward even more, eyeing her neck playfully. "But I appreciate it most of the time. Keeps life interesting."

"Abe!"

"I want to know more about this _boy_."

"I'll never tell!"

"Oh, you'll tell me _everything_." She squeals when he digs into her sides at the same moment he burrows into her neck, her fingers curling over his shoulders, clutching at the shoulders of his tunic. "Ahahahabe!"

Abraxas shoves against Abraxos shoulders, trying to shove him away, out from her neck. When he doesn't budge, she curls her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, and hugs herself as close to him as she can.

He chuckles. "Are you trying to hug me into stopping?"

"Ihihist it wohohorking?"

His arms curl under her, around her waist, and he leans back into the standing position with her on his arms. "It will if you give me a kiss." She giggles airily, looking down at him with the brightest eyes he's ever seen, and leans in quickly to peck his puckered lips. "You'll always be my little duckling, baby girl."

"Always?"

Abraxos leans forward, pecking the tip of her nose, brushing his against hers playfully. "Always and forever."


	48. Coming Together Again

He sighed deeply, blinking awake in the warm sunlight shining through his window, looking down at the warm weight against his side, the warm weight curled around his middle. She was still sound asleep, so peaceful, cuddled up against his side. She hadn't wanted to be alone last night so he had brought her with him when he went to bed.

"Aba," he smiles adoringly down at her. "You have to wake up."

"Mmmhmmmm," she nuzzled closer. "No, Abe."

"You have training with your new squadron today."

The small young lady licks her lips sleepily. "I'm sick."

Abraxos chuckles softly, swiping a finger gently down the bridge of her nose. "You are _not_."

"Nis would let be sick."

"Nis isn't your commander anymore."

"They wouldn't question it if he told them I was."

Ever the early riser, even on off days, the Captain walked passed their door without sparing them a glance. "I'm not lying for you."

"Come on, little duckling." The Power pushes her shoulder lightly. "The sooner you get up and complete your training, the sooner you get to come back."

"But, Aaabbbbeeeee."

"Come on, baby girl, you have to get up."

Abraxas whined sleepily, sitting up sluggishly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her fists. "You're a jerk."

"The absolute worst."

"You are!"

He chuckles softly. "You want me to wait for you downstairs when you're done?"

"Yes, please."

…

"Listen here, _Fallen_, I give you an order and you follow it to the mark." She went cross eyed at the finger pointing in her face. "You keep your mouth shut, do as your told, no questions, no back talk." The others just stood there. "Why our Commander decided to give someone by the likes of you a place among us is beyond me, in my opinion, you traitors should have stayed in exile." Abraxas felt her face heat up, but she bit her tongue, she had promised Nis to be on her best behavior, and that meant not backtalking her new commander. "Thaddeus had the right idea when it came to your kind. Show you your place. Give you what you deserve. Beat the disobedience out of you."

"Thaddeus was a bastard."

She had heard what he had done to Gadreel and Abner.

Her head whipped around, cheek stinging from the blow, a bruise forming under the slice from the sharp ring he wore. Cautiously, she raised a hand, pressing it to her burning, aching cheek and she pulled her fingers back to see the red that coated the tips.

He glared at her with such an intense hatred. "You shut your mouth, _Fallen_, he's your _better_."

She stared at him, her eyes wide with surprise, shock even, at the sudden abusive gesture.

"Perhaps the Mindbreaker would have found a way to silence you."

"You're a cruel, egotistical, bastard of an angel."

He raised his hand again, preparing for another strike. "How _dare _you speak to me like that, you _bitch_!"

She braced herself for it, closing her eyes in preparation, wishing that someone would jump to her defense under him and his undignified rage.

Someone did.

_"Temeluch."_

She knew that voice, Abraxas had grown up listening to that voice, her eyes flew open at the sound of it ringing over the training field and she peered around her new commanders form for her savior, never had she been so happy to hear his voice in her lifetime.

Nisroc was an imposing figure when he wanted to be, nearly seven feet tall, well built despite the slight weight he'd put on over the years, still well within his prime. His eyes as dark as a rolling thundercloud, fists clenched tightly, as he stalked across the field at a good pace to meet at their side. Temeluch balked at the appearance of the Captain of the Powers, coming to stand at attention, glaring within a side glance at the recently placed Fallen at her failure to bow to her superior, even as the others under his command stood up straighter under the Power's attention. "Sir."

"Were you about to strike someone placed under your command?"

"No, sir."

The Captain came to a stop before them, looking the commander over with narrowed angered eyes, glaring at him for a long moment before turning his attention to the one to his right.

She averted her eyes from his heated imploring gaze, inhaling softly when his fingers curled around her chin, lifting her head up as he examined the bruise forming over her cheek, the sliced cut over the length of her cheek bone. "How long as this been happening, Abraxas?"

"Not long."

"Don't you _ever _lie to me."

Another inhale. "Since the start."

He grumbles under his breath, nodding once firmly, and releases her chin as he reaches for her hand.

Temeluch stares at them with wide eyes, from the Captain's enraged expression to their intertwined fingers and back up to his burning eyes, Nisroc pulls the young lady close to his side.

"Temeluch, have you met _my _baby sister?"

"…Your…..Your…"

The Captain turns away from him, to the commanders men behind them, they stood up a tad straighter under his attention. "How many of you has he given the same treatment?" A few hesitantly raised their hands and he nodded again, once, firmly.

"You abuse my baby sister." He turns back around slowly, threateningly, and Abraxas squeezes his fingers tightly. "You abuse those entrusted to you." He lifts his chin with authority. "Temeluch. I relieve you of your command. Your men will be reassigned. You are free to go."

"W—What?"

"I _said _you may _go_." The Power comes to loom over him. "You're _dismissed_." Temeluch inhales sharply as he leans back to stare up at the tall Power. "Don't you _ever _step foot on _my _training field again." Nisroc pulls Aba closer, a warm weight against his side, and frowns deeply. "And if I _ever _see you strike another soul I will _tear you apart_."

He shoulder checks the dismissed commander as he stalks passed him, his intention of heading to the market forgotten in the wake of recent events, tugging the young lady with him gently.

"You're not mad, are you, big brother?"

"Not at you, Aba." He spares her a glance, his eyes zoning in on the wound to her cheek. "Abe's gonna have an absolute cow."

…

"Tus?" He marks the page he's one by folding the corner down. "Can I talk to you?"

"Sure, you can, baby girl, come on in."

Abraxas smiles slightly, stepping around the edge of the doorway, entering the clutter free room. Titus sets his book aside and pats the spot next to him on his bed, smiling to herself, she climbs up on the bottom of his bed and crawls up to settle against his side. He curls his arm around her, pulled her close, and leans them back against the headboard.

"What are we talking about, baby sister?"

"Tus, I don't like being in my room."

He nods lightly. "Why not?"

"Because I'm all alone." She looks down to her hands. "That's why I'm in your guys rooms so much."

"Because you don't like being alone?"

Aba shakes her head. "It… It reminds me of…you know _what_."

"You're back now, baby girl," he rubs her arm lightly. "And, this time, we're not letting go so easily."

"But what if…What if it happens again?"

He pulls her close for a moment, squeezing her against his side for a minute, pressing a kiss to the side of her blonde head. "We'd come with you."

Aba looks up at him. "You would?"

"We're never letting you go again."

"Promise?" He nods seriously. "Cross my heart."

Uncurling his arm from over her shoulder, he leans over and stands from his bed. Turning, back to face her, he holds out his hand to her. Abraxas looks at it with confusion, and then up to meet his eyes, Titus smiles at her gently. "Come on, baby girl, we all need some together time."

"All of us?"

He nods. "Let's go get the others."

She smiles, crawling across his bed, curling her small fingers around his large ones, letting him guide her from the bed gently. She turns at the last minute, pulling his blanket up over her shoulders, he smiles at her as he leads her from the room.

They knock on the door across the hall from his. "Puri, come on, we're all meeting in the lounge." He thinks for a moment. "Bring some chocolate."

"I'll be right there."

The door next to his is slightly ajar, and they both peek in, their Captain looks up at them from his reclined position on his bed. "Can I help you?"

"Come on, we're all gonna get together in the lounge, bring your blanket."

He tilts his head slightly. "Why my blanket?"

Abraxas smiles from his side. "Because yours is the cuddliest."

Nisroc returns her smile, nodding in turn, pushing himself over to sit on the edge of his bed. "I'll meet you two there."

Across from their Captain's room was their resident pranksters, Titus opened the door silently, bringing the soft conversation Haniel and Hasmal had been having to a silenced halt. They both smile at them in greeting, Mal waves at Aba, pressed close to Tus's side with his blanket wrapped around her warmly. "Come on you two, we're all getting together in the lounge, and that includes you."

Hasmal gives her a particular knowing glance. "Another one of those moments?"

She nods shyly.

They both stand at the silent confirmation, rubbing her head as they walk passed them, continuing their conversation as they make their way down the hall for the lounge at the end.

The last room they stop at is across from hers, the one she spends most of her time in, the one that holds the brother she's closest to but she's too afraid to share too much with lest she become burdensome.

"You go on." Titus nudges her forward gently, nodding at the door. "We'll be waiting for you guys."

"But—"

"He worries about you, Aba, its okay to need him."

She nods, taking a deep breath, and steps away from his side as she presses her hands to the door. Titus leaves her there, turning down the hall towards the lounge. She pushes the door open slightly, peering into the room she spends most of her nights in, her gaze coming to rest on his back.

Abe's facing away from her, lacing up his new boots, Abraxos is paying her no mind.

Silently, she steps into the room, bending forward to crawl over the span of his bed. "Abe?" He sits up, turning to look over his shoulder, and smiles at the sight of her. "Hey, little duckling."

"Abe will you come down to the lounge with us?"

"Do you need me, baby girl?"

She nods shyly.

Nodding silently, he sets his boots aside, and turns for her with his arms held out. Abraxas crawls forward, into his lap, curling her legs around his waist as he leans them forward to rise to his feet. He curls his arms under her, keeping her held up, and turns them towards his door. "Let's get to the lounge."

The others are all there, waiting and talking softly between each other, waiting for them to join them there.

Haniel and Hasmal lean back against Nisroc, curled into his sides, his arms curled loosely around their waists, as he talks with Puriel to his left, munching on a piece of chocolate from the small bowl he brought with him, Titus is nibbling on a piece at his side, listening in but not adding his own to the conversation.

Abe clears his throat and they all look up at them as they enter. She blushes deeply, ducking into his shoulder, and the others chuckle at her shyness and it's rarity.

"What's the occasion?"

He kneels setting her down next to Hasmal, the angel of fire offers her the edge of Nisroc's blanket and she cuddles underneath it, leaning lightly against his side, as Abraxos lowers himself on her other side, next to Puriel, who offers him a piece of chocolate, and she leans back against his side as he curls his arm over her front.

Titus smiles at her, when their eyes meet, and winks lightly. "We needed some quality time together."

"Aba needed some love, you mean?" Haniel leans around their Captain to peer over at her with concern. "You okay, baby sister?"

"I'm okay."

Puriel passes her a piece of chocolate too.

Nisroc leans over to kiss her head lightly. "It's okay not to be okay." Abraxos pulls her closer. "We'll be strong enough for the both of us."


	49. Just Like Old Times

"It's been a month. An entire month. She's been back for a month, Nis, and she hasn't spoken a word to me."

His Captain passes him the wooden bowl he'd been scrubbing for him to dry and put away, their turn to do the cleaning seeing as the others had done the cooking, he dried the bowl silently as he waited for his older brothers response.

"Abe, just give her some time, she's been on her own for nearly three eons." He rinses out the rag he'd been using for the washing. "She'll come to you when she's ready."

He drapes his drying cloth over the hook on the wall next to the washing basin. "She's mad at me, isn't she?"

Nisroc turns to look at him quickly, his head jerking around, at the sudden self-accusation. "_What_?"

"I should've held on tighter. I should have fought harder. I shouldn't have let her go so easy."

"Abe," his Captain shakes his head slightly. "She's not mad at you. You had to be restrained. It took _six_ guards to hold you back. They had to pry her from your arms. There is no possible way you could have made it any more difficult."

"I should have gone with her. I shouldn't have let her go on her own. I should have gone too."

"You know she wouldn't have wanted you to."

Abraxos leans back against the counter, looking down at his hands for a moment, and then he turns to gaze up at his older brother with a saddened expression. "She may be back. But she still just as far away."

"I know you miss your little duckling, baby brother." He reaches out and pats him on the cheek lightly. "She'll come to you when she's ready. Just make sure she knows you're there."

"I miss holding her in my arms."

"And you will again, just give it some time."

…

"Aba." She looks up at him at the sound of his voice, Puriel having taken over watching his training class for the time being, Abraxos has crossed the training field to meet at her side again. The young lady looks up at him quietly, and he smiles softly, his heart breaking softly when the gesture isn't returned, and Nisroc wonders why he thinks she's mad at him. "I know you need some time, and I am more then happy to wait, but I want you to know that I'm sorry for failing you."

"What?" It's the first word she's spoken to him since she got back. "You didn't fail me."

"But I let you go."

"Not willingly. Tus told me what you did. You didn't have to forfeit your position just because of me. You love being a Power."

"I did, though." He nods seriously. "Without you I had no reason to stay. I love my brothers with all my heart. But you're my world. I couldn't live in a home that had nothing left of you but memories." Abe averts his eyes for a moment. "I can just hope one day you will forgive me."

"Forgive you for what?" She lowers her arms slowly. "I'm not mad at you."

"Then why won't you talk to me?"

Abraxas tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, looking down to the field under her feet, humming softly as she thought over her words. "Because, I thought you moved on from me. I didn't want to be burdensome to you. I mean, you're still a _Power_, and I'm….I'm still a fallen. Technically" She looks back up at him carefully. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings."

"You thought I'd moved on… From _you?_"

"Well, _yea_." She nods lightly. "I mean, I'm not technically your sister anymore, not since I refuse to come back to the fold."

Abraxos tilts his head in confusion. "You think I only thought of you as my sister because you were a _Power_?"

"Duh."

"Duh?" He shakes his head. "Aba, we practically _raised _you, you're my baby sister and you'll _always _be my baby sister, baby girl, you'll _always_ be my little duckling."

The young lady ducks, smiling softly, and tucks her hair back behind her ear again. "I'm not a duckling."

"You're _my _duckling, and nothing will ever change that, _nothing_."

She blinks back the moisture gathering in her eyes as she looks back up at him, her lower lip quivering softly, and this time she returns the smile when he gives her one. "I missed you, Abe."

"I missed you too, baby girl." He opens his arms slightly. "Can I get a hug?"

She takes a small step forward, and then another, closing the distance between them quickly as she collapses back in his arms. Familiar arms, warm arms, strong arms. Arms that can circle around her completely, that pull her close and refuse to let her go, that hold her up when she can't hold herself up.

His arms curls around her tightly, pulling her close, hiding her from the world around them and they just hang onto each other as though should they let go they'll be separated from each other's sides again.

"I'm never letting go." Her voice is muffled by his chest, and he chuckles, a rumbling sound against her ear. "Then, we'll stand here forever." She smiles into his tunic. "You'll hold me up, right?" He nods above her head, his chin tapping the top of her head lightly, and she feels him press his lips to her temple. "Always."

…

"She's not mad." They're walking together, side by side, surveying the training warriors as they make their rounds, the center of their conversation just at the other end of the line their watching. The elder turns to smile over at him. "I told you she wasn't."

"Please don't say 'I told you so'."

"Then I'll just stick to thinking it then."

They slowly continue their trek down the line, their eyes meeting at the figure that holds a place so near to both of their hearts, following through the motions as fluidly as a Power would move through them, once you're one of their elite brethren, you were always one of them, especially if they played a hand in raising you your entire life.

Nisroc elbows him in the side lightly, grinning mischievously, and he shares a wink with him as he parts from his side. Abraxos watches him go the long way around, back around the other side, making his way to come to stand at her back. Smiling to himself, he shakes his head as he walks forward, coming to stand before her in no time flat. The Captain reaches around from behind her, causing startling her enough into jumping slightly in surprise, his fingers curling around her slim wrists as he lifts her arms up higher.

"Your sword should be level, right here."

"My position was _fine_."

"Not if I say it wasn't."

She tries to step back slightly, to step on his foot, despite the minimal damage that may be caused because of his thick boots, the intention is still clear to them. "Vision is the first to go with age."

His beard brushes over her ear lightly and she shivers at the feeling. "Did you just _sass _me?"

The other Power smiles at their banter, shaking his head as he joins them, reaching out to poke her in the unprotected belly. "It sounded like it to me."

She jolts lightly against their Captain, her eyes darting up to his, wide and alarmed. "No one asked you!"

He pokes her in the belly again. "Did you just sass me, too?" He pokes her again and she jumps slightly. "It was a trick question, of course, I know you did."

"Then, if you knew, why'd you ask?"

"I think you need a refresher on the lesson on what happens when you sass us, when you sass _me_."

She glares at him stubbornly. "I'm not anymore."

"You're not?" Her older brother is so close to her neck, she can feel his breath against her skin, his beard lightly ghosting over her neck as gentle as a feather would. "Care to prove that?"

"You aren't?" Abe smiles at her, reaching out with his hand again, and she inhales deeply when he wiggles his fingers just before her belly. "Then this shouldn't be a problem." Their baby sister chokes back a shriek when his fingers touch down on her belly, wiggling in deeply, and she jolts back, away from him and his fingers.

She shrieks lightly, despite herself, when her brother leans in against her neck to press a kiss to the tender skin. "You little liar." The Captain easily disarms her, the fingers of his left hand travelling up from her left wrist to curl around the hilt of her sword, sliding it from her grasp, he reaches around to stick it in the field behind them. "You know what we do to liars?"

"Nohoho!"

"You don't?" He kisses her neck again and she giggles brightly. "Let us show you."

He pulls away just as her big brother's fingers curl around her right wrist, pulling her forward, and she stumbles at the sudden tug. He bends at the right moment, at the knee, and tugs her up and over his shoulder.

She yelps as she's suddenly turned over, dangling precariously over his shoulder, his arm curled around her waist protectively. Giggles are continuously streaming from her like water down a creek, as she curls her fingers into the back of her big Abe's tunic, looking up to see Nisroc's boots following them.

The anticipation is killing her, knowing what's about to come, and that's what keeps her giggles constant.

It's been so long since she's been with them, since they've had the chance to be so playful, it's a game that one plays with a fledgling and she's far from being a fledgling at this point, after everything she's lived through, but it's a game she would always be elated to play with her big brothers. They still wanted to play, as they take the steps one at a time to the Pavilion above, they haven't moved passed her being there. They haven't moved forward, moved on, left her in the past.

She watches them kick off their boots, as to not track dirt into their pillow and rug filled lounge, and Abe gently undoes the ties on her boots and pulls them free one after the other. She pushes herself up as much as she can, bracing her fists against Abe's back, and Nisroc smiles down at her from behind when their eyes meet.

"Welcome home, baby girl."

She giggles softly. "I missed you grizzly bear."

"I missed you too, baby bear." He kneels slightly. "Give me a kiss, like old times?"

Abraxas nods, leaning forward to peck his lips, his beard rubbing over her chin and nose. Giggling when he rubs his nose against hers. "Ready for your lesson?"

"No!"

"Good."

"What lesson are we teaching?" Puriel's the only one who has an off day today, and he joins them from the hall that holds their private bedrooms, bare feet tapping softly against the warm stone under them until he hits the soft rugs. He strokes her cheek fondly as he turns to inquire with their Captain. "What lesson are we giving?"

Nisroc smiles slightly. "The one for sassy little liars."

"Oh, I'm glad I came to investigate the source of the adorable little giggles then, I _love_ this lesson."

Abe looks at him from over his shoulder, the one she's not dangling over, and smiles in amusement. "Would you like to partake then, brother?"

"I'm not busy at the moment." He wiggles his fingers at their giggly baby girl. "I think I can make the time for such an _important_ lesson." The medic elbows his Captain lightly. "I have an idea to make this even better for us."

"Please, do share."

He touches a hand to Abraxos' arm lightly. "Flip her over."

"What?"

"Nis'll take her off your hands."

The older Power nods, reaching out for her waist, curling his fingers around lightly. Abraxos nods, lifting her legs up, kneeling as he flips her over his shoulder, and she shrieks as she's passed between them dangling precariously upside down, but knows they'd never let her fall.

Nisroc straightens, her knees bent over his shoulder, hanging down his front, still upside down. She giggles like a fledgling, holding her tunic up with her hands, one of his arms curled around her waist and the other over her knees.

Smiling down at her, Puriel spiders the fingers of his right hand over her belly, and Aba shrieks with bright laughter at the sensation. "Now she can't try and escape." He peers over his shoulder at his chuckling, amused brother. "Would you like the honor of starting this lesson, Abe?"

"It would be my pleasure."

The medic snorts, stepping around behind his Captain, wrapping his fingers around her ankles to keep her from kicking too much.

Abraxas giggles still, looking up at him with wide shining eyes as he approaches to stand directly before her, and he smiles down at her as he kneels slightly. "I've waited three long eons to do this again."

She giggles cutely. "Can you wait a little bit longer?"

Her big brother shakes his head. "I don't think I can, little duckling, I've grown impatient." He leans in to kiss the tip of her nose. "This is my favorite lesson to teach."

She giggles some more in anticipation as he raises his hands, wiggling his fingers slowly, tilting his head. "Can you guess where I'm gonna do?"

"Not my belly, please."

"Why not your little belly, I thought you said you weren't ticklish anymore."

Puriel leans out from behind the Captain's shoulder. "She said what?"

"Apparently, she's not our ticklish little baby girl anymore."

"Her steady stream of giggles says otherwise." He chuckles as he disappears behind the shoulder again. "She's a little liar."

Her smile slowly grows, her and Abe staring into each other's eyes, giggles growing steadier second by second, until she tries to yank her left leg free. "What's got you all giggly?"

"Purihihihi!" She shrieks softly and tugs at her left leg again. "Stohohop!"

Nisroc huffs and adjusts his grip to something a bit more secure.

Abraxos looks up above her. "Puri, it's my turn first, she's my sassy little duckling!"

"Right, right, sorry!"

She's still giggling heartily when he looks back down at her. "I want your belly."

"No!"

She goes ignored though, as he dugs all ten fingers into her belly, the tunic she wears offering little protection from his assault. She squeals brightly, squirming and twisting, his fingers following her every move no matter which direction it may be, digging and pinching and wiggling, all over her tummy.

"Ahahahahabe! Stohhohohohop! Stoohohoohop!"

"Why?" He stills his fingers, looking back down at her, chuckling softly under his breath. "I thought you weren't anymore?"

"I am! I am, Abe! I lied!"

"You lied?" He digs right back in and she screams in laughter at the suddenness of the attack. "This is what little liars like you get." The Power finds a particularly sensitive spot above her waist and she shrieks, letting got of her tunic in favor for reaching for his hands, the shirt falls only slightly, but the damage is done. "There's that little belly I love so much." And digs his fingers into the skin on either side of her belly button.

Abraxas shrieks in between fits of laughter, arching slightly at the feeling, his fingers curled around his wrists tightly.

His fingers disappear after a long couple of minutes, her three eternities alone didn't seem so long to her, and her chest heaves for a breath. The Power leans in and kisses her nose again. "You're adorable." She giggles lightly and leans up as best as she can to kiss his chin.

"Pur, you want your turn?"

"I'd appreciate it."

Abraxos smiles down at her mischievously and stands, replacing the medic's position behind their Captain, holding her ankles steady as Puriel steps out from behind him. The medic kneels slightly too, stroking her cheek again adoringly. "This is going to be fun."

"Puri! No!"

"Puri," he races his fingers up her sides and she squirms, shrieking in laughter once more, struggling to pull her tunic back up to cover her belly and sides again. "_Yes_." She jolts from one side to the other as he pokes her harshly in the side, left, and then right, left again, right, shrieking lightly with every well aimed poke. "That's it, baby girl, laugh. Laughter is the best medicine. And you need some medicine right now." He spiders all ten fingers up her left side, she screams in laughter at the action, and then jumps over to the right. "You've been so quiet and sad for such a long time. Well, enough is enough." He pinches at her hips and his eyes turn down to meet hers. "We'll make sure you get all giggly and happy again. That's what big brothers are for, baby girl."

He pulls away after a long moment, and she grows tense, she knows who's turn is next.

Breathlessly, she squirms harder, tugging at her feet despite Abraxos' grip on her ankles.

"Oh, ho, she knows what's coming."

Nisroc chuckles as the medic comes to stand next to him, shoulder to shoulder, he kneels slightly and slides her off his shoulder to rest on Puriel's. "My turn."

"No! No, Nis! No! Grizzly no! Don't!"

He kneels before her, curling his fingers around the lower hem of her tunic, pulling it down slowly. "Let's get this out of our way."

"Nis! Nis, no! Grizzly, please! Please not that!"

The Captain chuckles as she sucks in her belly as much as she can, looking down into her bright eyes, and leans forward to kiss her nose lightly. "I've waited _three billion years_ to do this again." He straightens up again, her laughter strong and boisterous already, and leans forward to press his lips to her shaking belly. He just rests there, because he's slightly evil, and she squeals brightly at the touch. "I wait no longer."

He takes a deep breath, shakes his head and rubs his beard into her belly, and blows.

Their baby girl's squeals echo around them for a good bit of time after that.


	50. Crossing The Line

"Nis! Nis let go!" She stumbled after him, trying to keep up with his stride, flinching at every tug on her ear when she starts to fall behind. "Nis! Slow down!

He tugs on her ear firmly and she yelps. "You keep up."

They come to a sudden stop, and though his mighty angry with her, he still reaches out to steady her when she stumbles over her feet.

Her rooms right there, the doors standing slightly ajar, safety is within arm's reach. She stares at the safety of her bedroom at her angered older brothers side, and cautiously turns her gaze up to her older brother, Nisroc pays her no mind, so she cautiously, slowly, raises her hand to curl her fingers around his hand that's holding her ear.

He tugs firmly on her ear. "Don't you dare, young lady." Still, she curls her fingers around his wrist. "But, Nis—" "_Abraxas_." She falls silent under the sharp command.

She's crossed a line, crossed a major line that's thick and dark and everyone knows not to cross that line, but she's crossed it. Aba couldn't help it though, when she'd heard how he had treated her big brothers, no one treated her big brothers like that, especially someone like _him. _So, she lost her temper, it wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last time. Nisroc was just overreacting.

Castiel would wake up.

Maybe not right now.

But he'd wake up, eventually.

The Captain of the Powers raises his free hand, curls his fingers, and raps his knuckles against the closed wooden door before them. They hear the creak of the bedframe as the occupant stands from whatever position they had been in, the soft sound of bare feet padding across the warm stone floor, and the door handle clicks as it's turned and the door's pulled open.

Abraxos smiles at them in greeting, raising an eyebrow in curiousness at their current position, and crosses his arms lightly over his chest as he leans against the doorframe of his room. "What can I do for you?"

"She's more yours then she is anyone else's." Nisroc thrusts her forward. "You deal with her."

"Deal with her?" He frowns lightly at the specific wording, at the stern bite to his brother's tone, at the way Aba refuses to meet his eyes. "What's happened?"

"Why don't you ask _her_." Nisroc tugs on her ear when she makes not a peep. "Go on, young lady, tell him what you did."

She shakes her head slightly.

"Aba." Abraxos' tone is so gentle, its so soft, he loves her so much, she can't help herself but to look up at him at his soft request for her attention. "Tell me what happened."

"I put Castiel in a coma."

"You _what_?" He shakes his head in disappointment, and that alone hurts more then any physical punishment she could ever endure, she hates disappointing Abe. "_Abraxas_. Why?"

"Because…" She licks her lips lightly. "Because he deserved it."

"There is never any viable reason to harm someone enough to put them into a coma, little girl, you know this." He looks down at her so sternly that she averts her eyes in shame. "I raised you better than that." The Power nods to his Captain, pushing away from the doorframe, he lifts his hand to curl his fingers around the back of her neck. "I'll handle it."

Nisroc nods, tugging her ear enough that she turns back to him, and he glares down at her sternly. "If you abuse my teachings in such a way again, no matter how much it may pain me to do so, I'll take my belt to you. Do you understand me?"

She sniffles lightly, nodding meekly. "Yes, grizzly. I understand." He nods and lets go of her ear. "I'm sorry, grizzly."

No matter how angry he may be at her, he'll always adore her to pieces, so his smile is a genuine one when he smiles down at her and leans forward to kiss her forehead. "I know you are, sweet girl, don't let it happen again. Keep that temper in check, baby girl." His eyes lift to meet those of her older counterpart. "I imagine we will all meet in the lounge after this?"

Abraxos nods. "That's the plan."

"Alright."

They watch him disappear down the hall, and Aba turns to look up at her older brother, Abe always punishes her when she does something wrong. Even when Michael had been her guardian, he'd taken her to task sometimes, but being the Viceroy and Commander of all Heaven meant he was a busy archangel, so it often fell to the others, and Abe always took to it straight away.

Despite his disappointment, he smiles down at her, fingers rubbing over the back of her neck. "Come on in, baby girl."

She nods, stepping passed him, as he turns to allow her entrance, and reaches up to adjust her slight bun awkwardly as she comes to stand in the middle of his room. Abraxos closes the door behind him, pointing silently to the far corner, and she nods meekly, just as silently, and crosses his room to stand in her ordained corner.

The young lady fidgets in the corner, fingers curling around the belt cinched around her waist, shifting from one side to the other, her ear aching, as she listens to him. The tall Power walks around his room quietly, doing tasks that she can't see from her position, but she can hear him. There's the sound of a quill scratching on paper, he's working on the files for his new squadron, the papers shuffle softly as he flips through them. The chair creaks a few minutes later as he stands, his work completed, and she hears the rustle of fabric as he folds up the other blanket laying messily on his bed.

She chances a glance. "Abraxas, nose in the corner." And turns back around as quick as a snap.

The youngest, unofficial-official Power hears the soft clanging of armor as he gathers his armor up to hang from the hooks on the far wall. The rustling of fabric, again, as he folds a small basket of clean tunics, the gentle squeak of the wardrobes door as he opens it, to hang his leather vests and jackets, place his folded tunics on the shelf, hang his sword on the hook on the inner part of the door. There's a slight pause, she can't hear what he's doing, but she knows he's still in the wardrobe. Another squeak, the door closing, he lets it hang slightly ajar.

"Come here, baby girl."

She turns, her eyes immediately drawn to the leather sandal in his right hand, and a whine breaks from her throat involuntarily. Shuffling slightly, she doesn't move a step, not wanting to feel the sting of the sandal any sooner.

"Abraxas. Here. Now."

Abraxos' tone is firm, a stern sort of harshness underlying within, and she takes a small step forward, and then another. He sets the sandal down on the edge of the bed, beside him, and pats his thigh softly. "Come on, the sooner we start, the sooner it's done."

"Abe, please?"

He shakes his head softly. "You know how this works, duckling, you know what happens when you break the rules."

"But—But it's _Castiel."_

"I hate him just as much as the next guy but beating him badly enough to put him into a coma is crossing a line, you know that." He pats his leg thigh again. "Over, come on now, let's get this done with."

She tugs at the sleeve of her tunic nervously. He looks up to meet her eyes, when she fails to come at his prompting, and frowns at the fear that swims in those beautiful orbs. "Aba, are you scared?" Concern overcomes him when she nods meekly. He pats his thigh again. "Come're, baby girl, come sit with me." Abraxas nods softly, stepping forward silently, crossing in front of him to sit on his thigh. He wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him, and she tucks herself into his shoulder. "My little duckling, what has you so scared, talk to big brother."

"It's just…Abe it's been three _eons_…I'm…I'm _scared_."

"Oh, baby girl," he stokes the back of his fingers over her cheek. "Have I ever done anything to truly hurt you?" she shakes her head slightly. "Have I ever been too harsh?" Again, she shakes her head. "I would never be cruel to you, you hold my heart in your little hands, you always have. Do I leave you to sit through the soreness on your own?"

"No." Her hair rubs against the undercurve of his jaw as she shakes her head. "We lay together, cuddled up warm, and you tell me stories until I fall asleep." "Or?" "Or, we all go to the lounge and curl up together and you guys tell me stories until I fall asleep."

"Then, let's not leave the others waiting too long, okay?" She nods again, sniffling miserably, and he helps her back to her feet. "Do you trust me?" Abraxas looks up to meet his eyes and nods again. "Then, lay over." He helps guide her down, over his knee, and she looks down at the floor as her cheeks warm up at the position that she's in.

A hand comes into her line of sight.

"Hold my hand, little duckling." He wiggles his fingers. "Give it a squeeze when you need to, okay?" His baby girl, his little duckling, nods silently and reaches for his hand with both of hers. She curls it close, wrapping it up against her chest, nodding to the silent inquiry on whether or not she was ready.

She feels him pull his other hand back.

There's ten each. Ten with his hand. Ten with the sandal.

And when he's done, he wraps the blanket he'd gathered up earlier around her shoulders as he pulls her into his arms, she cries into his chest, clutching at his tunic, as he whispers words of comfort down at her. Abe sweeps her off her feet, bending at the knee, he curls one of his arms under her knees, and swoops her up. She cuddles close, curled up in the blanket, tucked against his shoulder, he kisses the side of her head. "Wanna go lay with the others?"

"Yes, please."

He carries them both across the room, out the door, and down the hall to the Lounge. The others are all already there, waiting patiently for them to join them, Abe sets her down in her usual spot. Smooshed into Nis's side, as he takes the spot right next to her, on the other side, and she's cuddled warmly between them.

Her biggest brother isn't mad at her anymore, he smiles down at her, leans down to kiss her nose, and wipes the tear trails away with gentle fingers. "Do you want me to tell the first story, baby sister?"

She yawns softly, cuddling down in her big brother's blanket, cuddled between her two big brothers, and nods silently. "Yes, please."

"Okay, baby girl."


	51. Reliving The Past

The scream of a fledgling echoed across the walls of the Pavilion, it brought them out of their rooms to investigate, searching for the cause of such an anguished cry. Nisroc lead them into the Lounge first, stopping short at the sight that greeted them, there stood their archangel, and on his arm was an achingly familiar blonde fledgling. A small toddler of a girl, little blonde curls framing her face, her hair wouldn't straighten out until she got a few years older. Little diamond like tears were streaming from her bright blue eyes, and she reached out for him upon sight, flexing little fingers insistently.

"Griz'y! Griz'y!"

"Sir?"

Michael raised the arm she was seated on, nodding for his Captain to take their fledgling, Nisroc curls his fingers around her middle and lifts her from his arm, pulling her close to sit on his arm instead. She coos softly, petting little fingers over his bearded cheek, laying her head on his shoulder, tucking herself in the crook of his neck. "She's…...She's a _fledgling_?"

"A spell." The Commander gestures to the fussy fledgling, calmed now that she wasn't in his embrace. "From the Winchesters witch." He smiles at the fledgling, trying for a kind smile, she sticks her tongue out at him. "Raph is working on the counter-spell."

"And, you want us to watch over her, I'm assuming?"

"She's not exactly my biggest fan at the moment."

Nisroc smiles down at the little girl on his arm, she smiles back up at him silently, leaning up to kiss his chin. "We'll look out for her, of course, won't we boys?"

The little fledgling peeked up over his shoulder, waving at the others with a big smile, she loved them all so much. They smiled in return, waving back in kind, Haniel wiggled his fingers at her and she giggles adorably, hiding back down against her biggest brother's shoulder. He smiled down at her, bouncing her on his arm for a brief moment, and nodded up at his archangel.

Michael smiled at them in fond amusement. "Does she remember anything?"

He nods. "Bits and pieces, the childlike state of mind has primary control, but her memories are in the present back of her mind." The archangel rubs at his cheek lightly and sighs. "She remembers that she doesn't like me very much. She remembers being alone." He gazes upon the fledgling again, giggling softly as she peeks over Nisroc's shoulder again, Haniel and Hasmal are making faces at her from behind their Captain. "She kept asking for you. _'Grizy'_, that's an adorable name, _Captain_."

"It's _'Grizzly' _Sir, if you're going to say it, you have to say it right." He kisses the side of the blonde fledgling's head. "A nickname from an adorable fledgling."

"My apologies, then." Michael chuckles softly, shaking his head, and his Captain smiles at him. "Why that?"

"She couldn't say my name and it stuck. She still calls me that, when she's her usual self, when she's trying to butter me up for something." The Power looks down at the fledgling, bouncing her on his arm again, smiling at her giggles. "Isn't that right, you little troublemaker?"

Abraxas giggles softly, throwing her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "Lub you griz'y!"

"I love you too, baby girl."

Michael claps softly, nodding in appreciation, looking over his men for a brief moment. "I know she is well looked after, so I take my leave, Puri try not to give her too much chocolate."

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

…

He looks up at the knock to his door, fingers curl around the edge, and push it open wider. Haniel leans against the doorframe with a smile, crossing his arms loosely over his chest, tapping the fingers of his left hand over his upper arm.

Abraxos slowly lowers his book. "Yes?"

Their prankster grins at him. "We've got a surprise for you."

"Is it from the others or from you?" He folds the book closed and sets it aside. "Because, if it's from you, I appreciate the thought, but you can keep it."

Haniel laughs, it's a well placed cautiousness, his last personal gift had been a sea snake to Puriel. His older brother had screamed at first, seeing as he had set it in his wardrobe and closed it in, waiting for him to open the door to reach in for a clean tunic come that morning, he'd been furious at him and he'd successfully hidden from his older brother for nearly two days before he was found.

Puriel had kept the sea snake, named it Shelby, and had a tank built for it in his room.

"It's from all of us, I swear, nothing to worry about."

His older brother turns, bending his legs over the side of his bed as he straightens up, frowning lightly in wonder. "What sort of surprise?"

"It's a good one! I swear!" His fingers come to a standstill. "You want to see what we have?"

"Does Nisroc approve of this _'surprise'_, Haniel?"

"Oh, he does." He nods encouragingly. "He loves this surprise with all his great big heart."

Abraxos nods slowly, curling his fingers around his knees as he leans forward, and Haniel grins wider. "What is the surprise?"

"Yay!" His younger brother claps excitedly and turns, waving at someone behind him, and there's the sound of an achingly familiar giggle that has him frowning again. "Come in, squirt!"

"You a squ't!"

A familiar blonde fledgling comes running into his room, pushing lightly at Haniel's knee as she passes him, blonde curls bouncing with every step. Her hair wouldn't straighten out until a few more years, but her bright blue eyes would never change, the color of a cloudless sky. Little finger curl around his, as he stares down at the familiar fledgling with wide eyes and a slacked jaw, she leans in between his legs and stands on her toes to kiss the tip of his nose.

"Hiya A'e!"

"You're…" He closes his mouth, opens it, closes it again, and opens once more. "_Abraxas?"_

"Me!"

"You're so…so _small_!"

She giggles brightly. "I a fledglin' silly! O'course I small!" She lets go of his fingers and tugs at the thighs of his trousers lightly with her tiny fingers. "Up, A'e!"

He moves without knowing what he's doing, curling his fingers under her arms, lifting her up to sit on his knee. She straddles his thigh, leaning back against him, and curls his right arm around her securely.

Nisroc smiles from the doorway. "Are you happy now, baby girl?"

"H'ppy!" She hugs Abe's arm tightly with both her little arms. "Miss'd A'e!"

Abraxos shakes his head to clear his thoughts, curling his hand around her left thigh, he leans forward as he stands back to his feet and brings her up with him. "Not that I'm not _ecstatic _that she's this small again, but, um, _why _is she a fledgling again?"

Their medic, Puriel stands at Nisroc's shoulder, the others had returned to their rooms to ensure it was fledgling-proof for her. "The Winchester's witch friend, what's her name again, Rowena?" He shrugs lightly. "I don't really care what her name is. She cast a spell on her."

He feels anger roll in his belly, as he looks down at his fledgling, she turns her head upwards so her bright blue eyes could meet his. "She cast a spell on you?" She nods, sniffling softly, rubbing at her little eyes with a fist. "Hurt'd." He frowns lightly. "It hurt?" His fledgling, his baby girl, his duckling, his _world, _nods again and sniffles a small sniffle. "I'll kill her."

"You're not killing her."

"Nis," he looks up at him unmoved by the indirect order. "She hurt my duckling. She's gonna die. I'm gonna kill her." He turns his attention back to his fledging, her little lip popped out in a pout, and he strokes a finger over her chin. "Did she make you cry?" Abraxas nods and sniffles again. "A'e g't 'er?"

"Abe's gonna get her, for sure."

"Aba," Nisroc is stern, but there's amusement in there as an undertone too. "Don't you dare try and get him to smite her."

She turns to smile at him innocently, and he can't help but to return her smile, wagging his finger at her playfully which makes her giggle. "I do nothin'!"

"You better."

"I good girl!"

He nods fondly. "Yes, you are, baby bear."

…

The first day back to training with their fledgling in tow was easier then expected, Abraxas was still used to waking up that early, or at the very least, used to Abraxos waking up that early. She only fussed for a short amount of time when he lifted her from his bed, pulling her into his arms, an arm curled under her bottom as she pressed against his side to lay her head back down on his shoulder. Calmness was restored when he leaned over to grab her blanket, it was a spare one of his, and curled it around her still sleepy form.

The others were waiting for the at the entrance to the training field, the sun still slowly rising, and the young, new, trainees trickling out just as slow as the sun was rising. Yawning and grumbling, shivering against the cool morning breeze, rubbing sleep from their eyes, they eyed the fledgling on his arm enviously as she got to sleep on, curled away in a warm blanket.

There was only four trainees, in the higher classes assigned to them, who were rearing to go. Jumping in place, stretching, preparing for a grand day of strenuous activity.

Nisroc eyed them carefully, his arms crossed, and shook his head. "I will never understand those three. I know for a fact they didn't turn in until twilight last night. How are they _so_ awake, more so then those who went to sleep much earlier, it makes _no_ sense."

Titus laughs softly at his side, eyeing his young charge carefully, and then his brothers. "I believe Paul and Andre are addicted to coffee beans. He thinks I don't know about it, don't tell him otherwise, but he has a large bag of them hidden under his bunk."

His Captain groans and rubs a hand down his face. "He's hyper _enough _as he is." Sparing the other a side glance. "Take them away."

"I won't. I consider it a battle I don't want to fight. He's not very secretive and if he thinks I don't know, I'd rather him not learn from his mistake, and him actually hide something from me that I should know about." He smiles as they high five each other over their shorter friends heads. "Besides, it means I can work them harder then the rest, he's coming to stay with you tonight, isn't he?"

"Yes."

Titus chuckles softly and pats him on the arm. "He'll sleep like a fledgling." He strokes a few fingers over their little one's cheek and steps off from his side. "Rest assured."

"That's all I ask."

His class stares at him with wide eyes as he addresses them for the first time that morning, running through that days training regiment, detailing who is partnering with who, which partners begin with hand to hand, weaponry, and physical training.

It must be a sight to see, him trying to be commanding with a fledgling resting softly on his arm, but he maintains his command and they split off soon enough to contend to their assigned tasks. His fledgling stirs lightly at a particularly loud clash of a sword against another, and he rubs the back of her head soothingly, urging her back to sleep, and she nuzzles back down with little prompting.

The sun crests the skyline before they know it, waking the rest of the inhabitants of their big grand home, and others slowly start to fill the empty training field as the seasoned warriors join them for their own physical training. The footsteps and rumbling of the crowd slowly starts to buzz around them as the Axis slowly but surely becomes alive.

Messengers awaken when the sun hits their Aerie, buzzing about their duties, flying overhead and running about to make their deliveries.

Joshua opens the gates to the Garden, inviting the guardians that help him tend to the grand fauna in with a gentle wave of his hand, turning as they follow him in.

The forges become alive with the sound of crackling fires, simmering melted metals, and hammers pounding.

The Infirmary wakes just as early as they do, busy as ever, persons coming and going at a moderate pace.

The Choir is arising with the day, humming as they work, the Morningstar instructing his personal Choir and the elders instructing their new young ones in their classes.

Heaven's awake and bustling by noon.

At midday rest, she finally awakens, pushing herself up from his shoulder, yawning widely as she stretches out, she smacks her lips softly as she settles back down and looks up at him with bright blue eyes.

She's slept well and now she requires nourishment.

"Are you hungry, baby duckling?"

"Hung'y A'e!"

He turns them away from his class, to face his brothers, Puriel is standing between two of his trainees, who had gotten into a bit of a squabble and are currently under his stern reprimand for such undignified actions. "Do you see Puri?"

"See Pu'i, A'e."

"He's got some fruits for you, for breakfast." Abraxos turns to face her again, smiling down at her, as he gently uncurls the blanket from around her shoulders. "Do you think you can make it all the way over to him on your own?"

"I a big girl, A'e!" She scrunches her face up in determination. "I do it myself!" Her features lighten considerably as she smiles again. "Choc'ate too?"

"It's Puri, little bean, of course he has chocolate somewhere on him." He kneels as he sets her on her feet. "If you give him a big kiss, he might give you some, but you'll have to soften him up with a big kiss first."

"Duck'in loves choc'ate!"

"I know you do, duckling." He turns her around, patting her bottom softly in a gentle urging to move forward, she giggles up at him. "Go on then, get your fruits and chocolate, remember to give him your big kiss." He pats her bottom again and she giggles adorably, he smiles fondly, and she runs forward, away from him. Shaking his head, he watches her go, making sure she gets through the training warriors safely, before turning back to his own training squadron.

He eyes them all in amusement. "I don't remember telling any of you to stop." He waves his hand as he steps forward to walk between them, folding the blanket up in his arms. "Get back to it."

She giggles excitedly as she runs between warriors, around partners, there are some who remember her from her first fledglinghood that she passes by, and they reach down for a high five from her as she bolts passed them.

Before she knows it, Abraxas collides into her big brother's legs, Puriel stumbles over his words as he's forced forward a step, and he looks down to see what had interrupted him. His two trainees don't bother to question it, both of their faces burning red with shame, elated at the interruption no matter what it may be.

They watch as the anger melts from their instructors features at the fledgling curled around his left leg.

Puriel waves them away. "Get back to it. Don't let me catch you fighting again." They bolt away at their first chance, before the words can be taken back, leaving his side at moments notice. The medic smiles down at the fledgling, turning and kneeling before her, caressing her cheek lightly. "Good morning, baby girl."

"M'rnin' Pu'i!" She jumps forward quickly, pressing her lips to his forcefully, making an exaggerated smooching sound, and leans back as she curls her arms around his neck. "Choc'ate now?"

"Did you just…." He narrows his eyes playfully. "Did you just give me a big ole kiss to butter me up for some chocolate?"

"It work?"

"Did it work?" He tilts his head to the side playfully. "I don't know." He stands suddenly, hooking his hands under her arms, he throws her up above his head. Their baby girl shrieks with laughter, arms winding and legs kicking as she's tossed up high, and he catches her in a cradle hold. Reaching into his pocket, he fishes around for a moment, and produces a small kiss of chocolate. "A kiss for a kiss."

She takes the small piece of chocolate happily. "Work?"

He wiggles the fingers curled around her thigh into the meaty flesh lightly and chuckles as she giggles and squirms. "You know it worked, you little sneak."

…

"Gotcha!"

She shrieks with laughter as she's swept swiftly from her feet, tossed up in the air above, kicking and wind milling her arms frantically. Strong fingers catch her around the middle, her legs bending up slightly, little fingers curling in the sleeves of his tunic. "Griz'y! 'gain!"

"But it's bath time, baby girl, not play time."

Abraxas lifts her tiny hands above her head. "'gain! 'gain!" When he doesn't toss her up again, she folds her little hands together and tucks them under her chin, tilting her head slightly to the side, and gives him the wide eyed-pouty lip look. "Griz'y, 'gain?"

"Now, how can I say no to that face?"

She giggles adorably and raises her hands again. "One more, and then it's bath time, right?"

"Right!"

He lowers his arms slightly, bends at the knee, and throws her up again. She squeals with excitement, kicking and waving her little arms and legs, and he laughs softly in the wake of her happiness. He catches her just as he had before, holding her up against his front, and she leans back giggling brightly as he leans forward to place a kiss on her nose.

"Bath time?"

"Bat time, Griz'y!"

Nisroc chuckles, turning on his heel, patting her bottom as he carries her down the hall to the washroom. "You made me chase you around our home for nearly thirty minutes."

"Keep'n in fit!"

He stops, looking down at her with playfully narrowed eyes, and she giggles up at him again. "You were trying to keep me fit?"

"Griz'y run!"

She goes cross eyed as she watches his finger poke her nose. "You knew exactly what you were doing, didn't you?"

"Well, Grizzly's got you now." He lifts her up, rubbing their noses together, she giggles and pats his cheeks with her little hands. "And I'll show you just how fit I am after we're done with your bath." She giggles and curls her arms around her belly protectively. "Oh, you know me so well. You're little bitty belly is gonna get it."

Little fingers tug at his beard lightly. "Whis'ers?"

"You love my beard, don't you?" He turns his head slightly to kiss at her fingers.

"Whis'ers tickly!"

Another joined them, Titus came up beside him, a warm towel draped over his arm. "I thought it was bath time."

Abraxas reached for her other big brother. "Tus p'ay too?"

The Captain smiled lightly. "You want Tus to play with us when we're done too?" She nods happily. "I'm sure he'd love to play with us."

…

"A'e….A'e p'ease…" It's the small sniffle that pulls him from his slumber. "A'e up…A'e?"

He blinks sleep from his eyes, squinting in the darkness, feeling the little finger poke him in the arm again. Yawning softly, he waves his hand at the table next to them, igniting the candle with his grace, he sits up to see what the matter is.

His little duckling is sitting there, huddled in on herself, tears gathered in her eyes like stars sparkling in the night.

"Duckling, what's the matter, cutie?" She sniffs softly, rubbing her little fists to her eyes, reaching out for him in the next moment. He reaches out, rubbing her cheek lightly with the back of his fingers, reaching to curl his fingers around her ribs to lift her from her spot. Aba clutches at his tunic as he lays her on his chest, cuddling as close as she can get, and he wraps his arms around her as he pulls the blanket up over them both. "What happened, baby girl?"

"Dream."

"You had a bad dream?"

He feels her nod against his chest.

"Fight?"

"You want me to fight off the bad dreams?"

She nods again.

Abraxos smiles, kissing her forehead lightly, and cuddles her closer to him. "I'll fight them all, my little duckling, you sleep tight." He tightens his grip just a bit. "I've got you."

…

"I'd almost forgotten just how enamored with her you all are."

The Healer finds the entire thing amusing, watching them all with crossed arms, as his apothecary finishes up their concoction and leans over his apprentice to hand it to the Captain.

Haniel turns to look at him incredulously. "You're one to talk!" He gestures to the little troublesome Virtue some pace away. "Zaves has you wrapped around his finger even still."

The archangel narrows his eyes slightly. "What are you trying to say, _little _brother?"

The Power stares at him with wide eyes, stepping back a single step, wanting to put as much space between him and the Healer that he can. He knows his wrath rather well. "Nothing, sir."

"We'll talk about this later, won't we, little brother?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Raphael gestures to the mug. "It'll set things right again." He nods to the fledgling gently. "This time less painful then the first change."

…

"Not a word about this to anyone."

"You were adorable as a fledgling. It was our pleasure."

"I said not a word."

"You kept asking Nis to kiss your belly."

"Shut up."

"I'd be glad to do it again."

"No, you will not be."

"Hold her down."


	52. Poor Decisions Made

"Hey," a hand curls around the undercurve of her cheek and lifted her head up gently. "What's the matter, little Ara?"

She sniffles miserably, wiping the tears from her eyes, looking into the concerned eyes of her _fully grown _master. "Z?"

The Virtue's apothecary nods at his apprentice, rubbing her cheek with his thumb gently, tilting his head to the side in concern. "What's wrong?"

"I—I—I was going to ha—have to sl—sleep on my o—own."

"You don't like being on your own, do you?" She shakes her head miserably, sniffling up more tears, and he strokes her cheek again. "Did we learn our lesson, then?"

"I'll ne—never do that ag—again."

"Never?"

Araton shakes her head silently. "Good girl." He strokes her cheek once more and stands, opening his arms for her. "Come here, baby girl."

She jumps up from the edge of his bed, wearing one of his tunics, and jumps into his arms. He curls her close, rubbing a hand down the back of her head, brushing his fingers through her dark hair. Araton cries long and hard, sobbing into his chest, all the nights she had been forced to sleep alone while her deaged guardian was forced to sleep down on the Infirmary floor for observation, from the scolding she'd received from the Healer at her poor decision in tricking them into drinking the unknown, untested mixture, Araton didn't like being alone and she was forced to be all on her own.

Zed was going to punish her, once he was back to normal, for thinking of doing something so dangerous as to allow others to drink a concoction that the purpose and side effects were unknown but seeing the way she was now was indication that she had already been punished enough.

"I—I—I'm so sorry! I'm no—not bad!"

"No, you're not." He pushes her away slightly, rubbing her cheek again, smiling comfortingly. "You made one bad decision. That's all. That doesn't make you bad."

She looks up at him, sniffing. "It—It doesn't?"

"Heaven's no." He brushes his nose down against hers. "You're too _good _to be bad."

The apprentice sniffles again, curling back up against him, and he rests his chin on the top of her head. "Can we—Can we sleep together?"

The Virtue bends slightly, curling an arm under her knees, and lifts his charge from her feet. "Of course, we can, little Ara." He walks them over to the side of the bed, leaning over to set her down in the middle, climbing in next to her. Araton slides in close, cuddling into his side, and he curls his arm around her to pull her close.

"Go to sleep, baby girl, I'm back now."


	53. Losing Track Of Time

Stepping into the deserted training field was like stepping into a ghost town, it was empty, not a body in sight, and for good reason. It was just after twilight, she should have been back before now, they had just lost track of time while they had their fun.

She peered up at the large looming windows of the Pavilion above her, peering out over the quiet training field, her eyes trying to spot out any possibility that someone was watching her. She spotted no shadows, no silhouettes among the darkness, no flickering lights of candles burning in the background as any indication that someone had waited up for her to return upon noticing her absence.

Creeping up the stone steps, taking them on at a time, she tiptoed into the empty lounge and down to the hall that housed their bedrooms.

She passed Puriel's room first, his door cracked, two candles flickering on the bedside tables. She came a stop at his presence, standing just inside the door, before the grand tank that housed his beloved sea snake, Shelby, feeding his pet her dinner. He paid her no mind, not seeming to think there was anyone in the hall he should be catching out passed curfew, talking quietly with his little charge. Donavon was laying in his bed comfortably.

Then, there was Haniel and Hasmal's room, their door was ajar too, and she spied in to see what they were doing. They were fast asleep, Hasmal's bed empty as he sleep curled up against their older brother, and Haniel undisturbed in the notion that there was another body curled up in his bed with him.

Titus room was across from theirs, his door was closed, but she could hear him talking inside. A small voice would respond every so often in kind to whatever had been said to them, and he'd chuckle lightly, a giggle would follow, and she smiled at the sounds.

Her older brothers were big and fearsome, but they were also such pushovers.

At the end of the hall, stood the door to Nisroc's room, standing ajar like the other two, she crept passed her own to peer inside. Her oldest brother, her Captain, big ole Grizzly bear was reclined in his bed, damp hair hanging freely down his shoulders to dry and a book open in his hands as he relaxed in the calmness that was the night.

Smiling to herself, none of them had seemingly noticed her disappearance, she turned back for her own room.

"Well, look what we have here." The voice had her hand stilling curled around her doorknob, shoulders tensing, she turned to peer at him with a sheepish smile. She had forgotten all about _him_. "Do you know what time it is, young lady?"

Abraxas smiled, gulping softly, as she turned to face her older brother. The one who almost always seemed to catch her when she did something wrong, the one that she couldn't sneak passed no matter how hard she tried, the one she always dreaded making upset with her. "Heya, Abe!"

"Abraxas." He taps his forearm with the fingers of his left hand, shaking his head sternly, and she feels her insides wilt at the disappointment in his eyes. "The time?"

She looks to her feet for a moment. "It's nearly one in the morning."

"And what time is curfew?"

Licking her lips, she responds. "Eleven." She rubs at the back of her neck as she chances peering up at him. "We sort of lost track of time."

He shakes his head again and steps to the side, nodding in the direction of his bedroom, and she looks passed him. "Corner."

"But—But _Abe_! It was an honest accident!"

"The _first_ time was an accident. The _second_ is not." He nods to his bedroom again, more precisely the far corner. "Corner, now, Abraxas."

"But—But I'm not a fledgling anymore!" She shakes her head stubbornly, crossing her own arms, she refuses to find herself nose facing the corner again. "You can't just send me to the _corner _anymore."

Abraxos heaves a sigh, nodding a moment later, the fingers beating against his forearm halting. "You're right. You're not a fledgling anymore. We shouldn't treat you like it anymore, we're sorry."

"Thank you, Abe." She steps up to enter his room and he stops her, his arm blocking her path. "I don't think so. Only fledglings sleep in their big brothers beds." She looks up at him with wide eyes and he shakes his head lightly. "Grown angels don't do that, they sleep in their own beds, in their own rooms."

"…I can't sleep with you…."

"And, of course, that also means no more riding on Nis's shoulders."

"…But…But I like riding on his shoulders…"

He taps a finger to his chin. "And there's no more sharing chocolate with Puri either, grown angels wouldn't do that, only fledglings would, and you're _no _fledgling." He nods to himself. "And no more pretending to be sick to sleep in before training, grown angels wouldn't do that, of course." He looks down at her finally. "And I guess that means there's no more coming together in the Lounge and just curling up together. That's only for fledglings, and you're no fledgling anymore, we shouldn't do that with you."

Her eyes twinkle lightly as tears overcome them, her lower lip quivering, she likes doing all those things. She doesn't want them to stop. "But…But…I like all those things…"

"Yes, but you don't want to be treated like a fledgling anymore, you said, we don't want to do something you don't want us to do." Abraxos makes as though he's going to turn back into his room. "I'll tell the others tomorrow morning, then, good night."

"Wait! Wait, Abe!" She jumps forward, stubbornness completely dissolved at the thought of all she'd be losing and curls her fingers tightly around his arm to keep him from leaving her in the hall. He turns to look down at her with raised eyebrows. "Please don't! Please don't stop! I don't mind, really! I don't! I like sleeping with you and riding on Nis's shoulders and eating chocolate with Puri and playing pranks with Hani and—and I like getting together with everyone in the Lounge and cuddling up between everyone and listening to your stories!" She tugs on his arm. "Please don't stop! Please don't tell! Please!"

"Well," a tear escapes her right eye, and he reaches up to catch it, bending forward slightly. "You could always go stand in the corner, still."

She nods pitifully, reaching up to rub at her eyes with a fist, sniffling as she holds back her tears. Abe steps to the side, and gestures for her to enter, at her own bidding of course, and she silently slides in before him and crosses to stand with her nose facing the corner.

A voice catches them before Abe can close the door, her cheeks burn red at the thought of someone seeing her standing here, even if it's another one of her big brothers, and she knows who that voice belongs to.

Abe responds back in kind. A small conversating whispered between them.

There's a soft hum from just outside the doorway.

Soft footsteps fall across the warm stone floor, large hands curl over her upper arms, a bearded chin rubs against her cheek as a soft kiss is pressed there. "You can still ride on my shoulders, baby girl." Nis must have heard the commotion in the hall and come to investigate. She smiles, sniffling slightly, and turned to look up at him for a moment. "Promise, grizzly?" He nods, kissing her cheek again. "Cross my heart. You're my baby girl, no matter how old you get, you'll always have a seat upon my shoulders."

She turns slightly away from the corner, allowed this small reprieve from her big brothers stern reprimanding, and curls herself up against his chest. He chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around her in turn, stroking his large hand down the back of her head. "I know we can get a bit overbearing at times, it's hard for us not to still see you as the small young lady that we lost all those eons ago, still so young, barely old enough to be a youngling, and yet so advanced in your training." He strokes a finger under her chin, and she looks up at him at his gentle call for attention. "If it ever becomes too much, just tell us, we know you're not a fledgling anymore, it's just hard for us to see you as anything else. We practically raised you, baby girl. You're _our _fledgling."

"But—"

"It'll change nothing. We'll still treat you just the same. But, perhaps, a bit more respectfully given your age."

She sniffles again and he wipes away the tear that escapes again. "You promise?" He nods lightly. "You promise I'll still be able to ride on your shoulders and sleep with Abe and share chocolate with Puri and play pranks with Hani and Mal and sleep in and—and—"

"And, cuddle up with us in the lounge as we tell you stories?" She nods, and he smiles, leaning in to kiss her nose lightly. "Yes, to everything, it'll change nothing. Absolutely nothing. It'll just help us know if we're becoming a bit too much."

She smiles a watery smile and curls back up to him, nuzzling into his chest, and he chuckles again as he tightens his arms around her for a brief moment. "I love you, grizzly bear."

"I love you too, baby bear, with all my heart." He strokes his hand down the back of her head again and pulls her away gently. "Now, finish your time in the corner, and get a good night's rest, alright?"

Abraxas nods softly, rubbing at her nose, and leans up on her toes to kiss his cheek, stroking her fingers over the other side. The Captain smiles, turning his head slightly, catching her lips in a peck and steps back as she turns to face back into the corner again.

He bids Abe a good night as well, softly, behind her back, as he takes his leave. The door closes behind him and her brother returns to what he had been doing, the bed creeks lightly as he sits on the edge, no doubt leaning forward, with his elbows resting on his knees.

She hears him sigh softly. "Do you want your own blanket?"

Aba nods lightly, turning away from the corner for a moment. "Yes, please."

Her older brother points lazily at the corner. "Nose. Corner. You know the way this works, missy."

She turns back around quickly, facing the corner, staring at the line where the two edges meet silently. The bed creeks as he stands from the edge, the click of the lock on the wardrobe door clicks open as he reaches in for her desired blanket. "Do you want your own pillow too?"

"No, thank you." She scratches at her ear softly. "I wouldn't really use it."

He chuckles softly as he closes the wardrobe door. "Because I make such a great pillow?"

"Yep."

"Alrighty, then."

She doesn't know how much time passes, it feels like forever, she hates facing this stupid corner. It's so degrading. So lonely. So _boring_. She needs excitement and companionship and entertainment.

Arms curl around her waist from behind and she smiles down at the hands that cross in front of her. "Can I come out now, Abe?" He pokes a finger into her lower belly, and she bites back a giggle, his stubbly cheek rubbing up against her cheek lightly. "When I'm done with you, you can." She giggles softly up at him, curling the fingers of her left hand around his free cheek, and he turns his head slightly to press his lips to her palm. "Did we learn our lesson?"

She giggles, leaning away from him when he tries to press a kiss to the side of her neck, he loves messing with her neck, it's always made her giggly. He follows after her though, no matter when she goes, and growls playfully as he buries himself into her neck. She shrieks brightly, scrunching her shoulder up the best that she can manage, trying to lean away from him as he starts pressing one playful kiss after the other on the sensitive skin. "Lesson learned?"

"AhAhAhAbe!" The young unofficial Power curls her fingers around his arms tightly. "Lesson learned! Lesson learned!"

"Good." He kisses her neck one last time, and bends at the knee, to sweep her off her feet. "Let's get some sleep, my little duckling, and then you can tell me all about your date."

She nuzzles close to him, tucking her head in the crook of his neck, and curls the fingers of her right hand into his tunic lightly.

"Okay, Abe."


	54. Meeting New Teammates

"But—" She tugged incessantly at the Captain's arm. "But my rooms always been next to Abe's."

She watched them as they slowly cleared the things from her room, to the one down the hall, that had been made into her new home, continuously tugging on the Captain's arm. Nisroc sighs deeply, she's been tugging on his sleeve for the better part of twenty minutes and catches her hand before she can tug on it again.

"I know it has, baby girl." They watched as the things for the new election were brought in. "But your room is for a Power, and technically speaking, as much as it pains me to say, you did turn down the position. Leaving the room open for the taking." He looked down the hall as Tus took the last of her things to her new room. "Now your room will be next to mine."

"I don't _want _to be next to yours!" He looks down at her at her cry. "I want to be across from Abe!"

"I'm hurt that you don't want to be next to me."

"I love you, Nis, I do. I really do. But I've _always _been across the hall from Abe."

"I know you do, sweetheart." He gestures to the new one in their midst. "But, Sablo asked for this room, and being a new elect Power, it's in his right to take it."

"But that's not fair! That's _always _been _my _room!"

Nisroc sighs deeply. "I hate to be so blunt, Abraxas, but life isn't always fair."

"_You're_ the _Captain_! Tell him to pick a _different _room!"

"He's taking the room." He holds up a finger when she makes to protest again. "And, that's _final. _Not _another_ word on it."

Their girl glares at him, turning a heated glare to their new elect over her shoulder, and yanks her hand free from his grasp. The others gather around to watch her temper grow, her fingers curl into fists, her bright eyes alight with a blaze of anger.

Nisroc's eyes widen in surprise when she jabs a finger into his chest, his crossed arms coming undone at the shock of the action. "It wouldn't be the _first _time you chose someone else_ over_ me." They watch her turn away from him, march down the hall, and slam the door of her new room closed behind her.

"Well, that went well."

He turns a glare on Haniel. "Oh, shut up."

…

Sablo was a good soul. He truly tried to live up to the expectation that was placed upon him. They helped him as much as they could, better then the previous elects they'd had, he truly respected them all and their charges. He was quiet, spent most of his time reading when he wasn't training, and tried to get along well with them all.

It had been quite the shock to him to see how the legendary and fearsome Powers _really _acted when they were in the privacy of their Pavilion.

Nisroc was the big brother of the group, everyone went to him with their problems, when they needed cheering up, when they needed to vent. He was an ear to listen to you when you spilled your problems to him. A comforting presence when things got too rough. Always there to offer a bit of advice or a word of praise when it was needed. He treated them all like an older brother would a younger brother. His love and respect for his men was astounding and rarely seen.

Titus was the quiet one, the confidant, the one that you could trust with any secret you might have. Always there if you needed someone to talk to, a quiet ear to listen to your troubles, and then to offer his own input. He had a collection of books himself, and he left anyone of them borrow from his collection, so long as they returned the book upon completion.

Puriel was the medic, he cared for everyone's wellbeing; emotional and physical. He was always there to care for you, offer a word of comfort, and a piece of chocolate. He made sure they remembered to laugh, like Nisroc did, always with a smile and something nice to say whenever you saw him.

Abraxos was the quiet force, the one that wouldn't say much, but whom you could always count on being at your shoulder when you found yourself in a tight spot of a bother. The one who would go to the ends of the earth for you, and then back again, because of how much he cared.

He was the one who had elected Sablo as a Power.

That's why he had asked for the room across from his.

Haniel and Hasmal were the playful ones, always playing pranks on the others, if only to ensure the fire starter would stay in good spirits. They were also the comforting ones, they'd sit with you after a hard day of training and help you relax, they'd talk to you about anything and everything there was to talk about.

Sablo had been shocked by their actual personalities. The fearsome Captain was as soft as they came. The soldiers pushovers when it came to those they loved. They were playful, so very playful, with each other and to those close to them. Nisroc was always making them laugh, a swift poke here and a light jab there, and he knew it was because the oldest Power could and there were very few who could turn the tables on him in return.

The first time he had found out about his rather sensitive area, Sablo had been horrified, unsure as to how he would react. It had been a slight poke to his side, nothing more than a mere poke, and he'd nearly jumped out of his skin. The smile that had overcome his Captain would forever be seared into his memory, along with what followed, he hadn't laughed that hard since he had been a small fledgling still toddling about. And, by Father, the amusement in the elder Power when he'd managed to make him _squeal _like a child was nearly palpable around them.

The only one he hadn't gotten to meet was the one thing that brought all five elder Powers together, the one they had raised among them all, the one they always talked about. Abraxas avoided him, and Nisroc, as though they were a plague. They'd enter a room, and she'd leave, they'd try to include her in a conversation, and they'd go pointedly ignored.

He understood her anger, it was her room he had taken, he hadn't thought about how she might feel at the time and was too afraid to ask the Captain if he could move once everything had been sorted out.

The baby of the Powers spent most of her time in her new room, doing only Father knows what, shutting the rest of them out.

The others were allowed in her room, Puriel and Titus would take her dinner there. Haniel and Hasmal spent much of their free time with her in there. Abraxos would disappear into her room for hours. From what he's heard, the two of them had always been rather close, closer then she was with anyone else.

But she locked Nisroc out. He ask to come in and his inquiry would be left hanging in the air, until he'd sigh deeply, and turn away.

She pretended that he didn't even _exist_, he knew it was in her right for him taking her room, but Sablo had wanted to get to know her as well.

…

When his fingers curled around the door handle, he had expected it to be caught by the lock, so when it turned completely, his eyes widened in surprise. It had been nearly a month since she had started ignoring his very presence, and the first week he allowed to go by with understanding, but now it was becoming troublesome.

He opened the door, and caught the book thrown at his face with quick reflex, glaring at the owner of the book sternly.

"How dare you come into my room!"

"How dare you throw a book at my face."

He steps into the room, and she huffs, crossing her arms as she turns away from him on her bed. He sighs deeply, taking this baby step for what it's worth, and closes the door behind him. Setting the book on the desk as he passes by it, he sits on the edge of the bed, and reaches out to curl a hand over her shoulder.

She shrugs his hand off.

"You can't possibly still be _that _upset about moving rooms."

"I _hate _you."

Nisroc heaves another sigh, pulling his hand back, he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry, he didn't know that your room was that important to you."

"_You _did."

"I did." He nods in affirmation. "And I'm sorry that it was taken from you. But his request overrides yours, I'm afraid, despite the fact that you stay here with us, you are _no longer_ a Power. He gets first pick on the room he takes, even if you're already there, I'm afraid."

"You still could have told him to pick another."

Nisroc closes his eyes, asking for patients. "You know, this isn't as bad as your making it, you're just being a brat about it." Perhaps trying to be nice about it was too good of a choice.

"You're a brat."

Heaving a sigh, he pats his thighs once, and stands from the bed. "Okay, that's enough pouting from you, get up."

"No."

Leaning over, he snags her by the ankle and pulls. "Up you get." She leans over and curls her fingers around the other end of her mattress, holding on as tight as she can. "No!"

"Oh, I'll get you up."

He tugs on her leg again and she strains against edge of the mattress, he hums thoughtfully, stroking a few fingers over her bare sole.

Abraxas shrieks, as he knows she would, and when she turns to yank at her foot he yanks just as hard and she yelps as she slides across her bed towards him. He lets go of her foot at a moments chance, leaning forward, and grabs her around the waist to hoist her up into his arms.

Her legs curl around his middle instinctively.

"I told you I'd get you up."

She giggles lightly as he leans forward to kiss her belly. "Do you know what I'm going to do now?"

"Noho!"

The Captain nudges her tunic up with his nose to get to her bare belly and presses his lips to the bare sensitive skin. "No?" He kisses her belly gently. "Let me show you."


	55. Relearning Old Lessons

_"ZAVERIEL!"_

He drops the vial he's holding at his name being called in such a manner, with such a tone, and little Araton jumps forward to keep it from shattering on the floor and spilling it's contents, looking up at him with wide eyes. "What did you do?"

Zed leans over her shoulder for the vial she holds, chuckling at his youngest brothers expression, one of shock and horror mixed all into one. "That doesn't sound good." He reaches forward with his free hand and pats the youngest Virtues cheek. "I'd take this time as your headstart."

He doesn't need to be told twice, the young man turns in quick succession, darting for the exit.

The Apothecary turns to the other end, an amused smile playing at his features as his Captain and brother make their appearance, dripping some sort of paint on the floor, where their baby brother gets all his materials, they don't know, but he never fails to produce, and it never fails to amuse.

They look about, eyes searching for their target, and the predators eyes meet those of the preys in a mere moment. Zaveriel's eyes widen as theirs narrows, and as he turns to bolt away, they make their way forward. Oren and Akriel on are a mission, and make their way through the crowd fluidly, he waves at them as they pass but they pay him no mind.

Araton giggles softly at their appearance from behind her hand and he smiles down at her.

Near the door, Gzel laughs at her guardians appearance, pointing at him as she bends forward in her immense humored state.

But they pay them all no mind, focused on the back of their retreating prey, vowing not to lose him in the crowd.

Zaves makes the chase all the way down the stairs, taking them two at a time, hoping down them as quick as he can, listening to the thundering of their boots as they slowly draw closer. He stops, pauses, only once at the bottom of the staircase, turning to peer at them over his shoulder, and yelps as he jumps forward when he's almost caught, darting into the crowd that is the Axis.

He peers over his shoulder every so many moments, to see if they're still there, of if he's lost them yet. Akriel and Oren have had practice in keeping up with him, they've all had practice, but them two especially. They dart through the crowd fluidly, people jumping out of their way, clearing the path, turning to watch as the two Virtues make chase after the young healer trying to evade their grasp.

He skids as he turns so suddenly, nearly falling over to the side, but he manages to catch himself even if he stumbles a bit as he does, darting up the dirt path that leads to the Garden. He can hide there, hide up in the trees, wait until they give up, for the time being, and hide out there until something happens that causes them to forget why they're chasing him in the first place.

The ponds and streams are all fresh water and there's fresh fruits in the treetops, he'll make it a good month before he has to return to the Loft, and by then something will have come up and they'd have forgotten all about this prank he'd played against them.

Joshua waves at him as he enters, and he spares the Gardener a quick wave in return, a flash of a smile, as he darts into the thick tree line. Jumping over stumps and upturned tree trunks, he peers over his shoulder again, yelping at the distance that is quickly being closed between himself and his predators.

Akriel and Oren are still fast on his tail, he hasn't managed to shake them, and their closing in quicker then he's beginning to manage to evade.

He's midair, midjump over an upturned tree trunk, when one of them manages to get a hold on the back of his tunic. He flails as he's yanked back, mid jump, falling through the air, he barrels back into someone and they go toppling over to the grass below.

They wrestle for a minute, he's fighting for his life, grappling for freedom, but he's flipped over onto his back and they manage to pin him despite his best efforts.

Oren straddles his waist, and from above him, Akriel kneels, fingers curled tightly around his wrists as he positions his hands above his head. They're all panting for breath from the extensive chase, he tests the grip on his wrists, and the fingers tighten their hold when he gives an experimental tug.

Oren sits back slightly, smiling down at him, hands resting lightly on his thighs as he falls into a comfortable position. "Hello, baby brother."

He returns the smile. "Hey, Ori, nice shade. Blue suits you." He earns himself a sharp jab to his belly and he yelps, for his cheekiness, he is in no position. "You're in no position to be so cheeky." His Captain, his older brother, reaches up to brush his hair back, looking down at his hand as he pulls it away to see it covered in blue paint. "But I absolutely _love _what happens next, so by all means, be as cheeky as you want." He leans forward to smear his palm of blue paint over his baby brothers face, chuckling softly as he scrunches his face up, inhaling sharply. "It gives us even _more _of a reason to torture you."

"H—Hey guys," he looks up from Oren to Akriel above him, and the specialist smiles down at him fondly. "Let's talk about this!"

"It's been some time since you've pranked us." Akriel leans forward slightly. "And, at the same time, no less." He adjusts his position, trapping his hands under his knees gently, and pokes him in both underarms, another yelp is pulled from him at the action. "We've neglected you terribly so, if you hadn't thought to think twice about it."

"It was our mistake," Oren draws his attention back to him, and he smiles, in the way that big brothers do when on the verge of torturing their younger brother to tears. "One that we'll be sure to rectify." He reaches for the bottom of his tunic, making a show of it, as he gently pulls it out from under the belt, pulling it up to reveal his toned pale belly to them both. "Let's get this out of the way, shall we?"

He knows them well, knows how they operate, and he shakes his head as Akriel helps him pull it up over his head, covering his face. Perpetually blindfolded, keeping him on edge for what's to come, it makes it that much worse because he doesn't know what to prepare himself for before it happens.

Fingers tap against his lower belly, ten in all, and he giggles lightly in anticipation from under his tunic.

"Listen to him giggle." His oldest brother sounds so amused. "We're not even doing anything yet." Ten fingers poke lightly into his belly and he chokes on his giggles. "He's like a fledgling."

He growls, bucking lightly, tugging harshly at his hands.

Two fingers poke at his right underarm and he squeaks, his growls overthrown by a wave of giggles, and he curls to the side, leaning away from the fingers. They jump from the right to the left and he jumps to the other side, they follow him, no matter which direction he goes, and his giggles become steadier with every relentless light poke.

"What should we do first, it's our move, and we have him right where we want him." A finger pokes under his belly button and he jolts. "He's _all _ours."

The two fingers pull away from his underarms and he falls back, breathing deeply, it's the light touches that are the worst in his opinion.

"Try his belly out." Akriel's fingers brush over his curls. "It's always been your favorite."

Ten fingers scribble over his bare belly, and he snorts, arching his back as laughter spills from him. "Try his little belly out, you say?" He pinches at the skin on either side of his belly button. "What about it baby brother?" Zaveriel sucks in a deep breath, trying to suck his belly as much as he can. "Should I give your cute little belly some attention?"

Their younger brother shakes his head quickly, giggling breathlessly, it sounds like it did when he was just a small mischievous fledgling. He's still just as mischievous. Just not a fledgling anymore. And his reactions to their punishments haven't changed in the slightest. "Nohohoho!"

"No, why not?" He digs his fingers into his lower belly, and he shrieks brightly. "Could it be that your bitty little belly is ticklish?"

His older brother is teasing him, like he's some sort of fledgling, and it makes him growl again. "Stop teasing me!"

"Stop teasing you?" Fingers spider lightly in circles around his belly and he squirms with every stroke and poke. "It's fun to tease you." He growls again and bucks harshly. "You try and knock me off again and you're going to get it."

"He's thinking about it." Akriel sounds amused and strokes a finger down the side of his neck. "He wants to kick you."

"You do, baby brother?" Fingers poise themselves over the center of his belly and he stiffens. "Such naughty thoughts should be deterred."

"I do not!"

"He's definitely thinking it."

"Shut up, Ak! I am not!"

"He said _'shut up' _to me." Akriel snorts.

Oren wiggles his fingers a bit and he shrieks again, squirming under his skillful tortures, jolting one way and then the other. "Would you like me to punish him for it?"

"I would appreciate it."

The fingers pull away and he sucks in a deep breath. "I'd be glad to." Theres a brief period of silence, stillness, neither one of the are touching him.

And then it happens.

Then he feels them.

A pair of warm lips press over his belly button and sit there.

They laugh at his reaction, despite nothing happening, and his reaction is to squeal brightly. "Such language gets you the beard, baby brother, I know how much you love it."

"Nonononono!"

He hates the beard! He's tried shaving it off, once, only once, Oren hadn't been amused and he hadn't laughed as hard as he had that one time, since then. Oren chuckles darkly, kissing his belly button lightly, and he squeals again. "Oh, yes, the beard."

He arches his back when he shakes his head and burrows in, rubbing his beard deep into his belly, nuzzling into the sensitive skin under his belly button. Fingers curl around his waist, to keep him from moving, as he takes a deep breath. Zaves _screams_ when he blows, shaking his head against his belly, boisterous laughter exploding from him. He moves from the center of his belly to the side, takes another deep breath, and repeats all over again.

"Wait, wait, Ori." Akriel's his saving grace, he loves Ak, he loves him so much. His chest heaves for air as his older brother pulls back, no doubt to look up at their brother, he doesn't see the look that's passed between them, and he doesn't need to, when Akriel speaks next. "Together."

Two lips, two beards, press into his belly. One from below, the other from above, and he just screams. He _screams_. Arching his back, tugging at his hands, bucking his hips. He screams with laughter, over and over again, until his laughter falls silent and tears gather in his eyes.

Fingers joining the mix soon enough. Ten digging into his waist and the others under his arms. He manages another scream, a loud bright echoing squeal, and his feet kick from behind his older brother.

This, this is the part where they're teaching their lesson, this is the part where they make sure he'll remember to think twice about pranking them. Individually or at the same time. That part doesn't matter. It's the big picture that matters.

His chest is heaving, he's breathless, giggling deliriously by the time they pull away. Akriel's knees move away from his hands, and Oren climbs up off his legs, he hears them chuckling at the mess they've made of their baby brother.

He just lays there, Zaves doesn't move an inch, arms still raised, fingers curled inwards slightly, tunic still pulled up over his face.

The young Virtues hears their knees pop as they kneel beside him, a hand rubs at his belly and he giggles wildly at its being there, completely overtaken by the torture he's just experienced. "Calm down, baby boy, we've finished."

Someone pulls his tunic back down, Akriel smiles down at him, patting his cheek lightly. "And I'm sure you'll remember to think twice next time too."

He just giggles still, softly, airily, and they smiled down at him adoringly. Oren brushes his curls back. "That was a bit mean." He holds his hands out, and waits for Zaves to nod slightly, before curling them under his arms and pulling him up. He's getting a bit big to carry around, but he's still just small enough, and he pulls him up as he stands, resting him lightly on his hip. "Lets get you tucked into a nice bed. You're completely spent."

Zaves nods weakly, laying his head down to rest on his older brothers shoulder, giggles starting to space out between each one.

They carry him out from the trees, Joshua shakes his head at the sight of them, turning back to his caretaking when Akriel wiggles his fingers at _him_, and he watches as they disappear from his garden.

He'd be back.

Joshua would be prepared for it.


	56. Calming The Nerves

"Sir?" He looks up at the knock on his door, smiling to him in greeting, and sets his book aside. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, yes, come in Sablo." The new elect steps cautiously into the Captains room, his fingers curled tightly, nervously, and Nisroc stands from his reclining position on his bed. "Close the door behind you, please."

"Sir," he does as he's told timidly. His mind whirling as he tries to remember if he'd done anything to cause any trouble. He'd had a hard time keeping up in training that morning, but the Archangel had still been impressed, and the others had promised to help him, no one had seemed mad. "Am I—Am I in trouble?"

"Of course not." He tilts his head in confusion. "Why would you be in trouble?"

"I—I messed up in training today."

"We all have off days." The Captain shrugs it off lightly. "It doesn't make you any less suitable for your gifted position. Abe did good in finding you. You're humble, you don't know how truly talented you are, and that's what we look for. We don't need someone who thinks they're undefeatable. You know your limits and you acknowledge them." He gestures for him to come closer. "The ceremony isn't until next week. But it's been decided. You're one of us."

"Then…Then why did you want to see me?" Sablo inches forward carefully, cautiously, until the Captain's fingers curl over his shoulders and guide him around gently. He sighs in content when his fingers dig in, easing the tension free, and he sags under his touch.

"Because, I could see how tense you were from a mile away." He digs into a particularly stubborn knot. "You need to relax. You're not going anywhere. You are one of mine, and I take care of what's mine, you need to calm down."

"You mean you're not going to kick me away?"

"Heaven's no." He massages at the base of his neck. "We all struggled with the training at first, but with help, you'll learn to keep up. There's no shame to be had. You're still young."

The older Power pokes his side experimentally. "And if you can't calm yourself then I'll have to help you." He smiles lightly as the young elect jolts lightly, leaning away from his hand, and he pokes him again. "As your Captain _and _your older brother." He dug a few fingers into his side experimentally and the elect under his hands shrieked lightly. "This is indeed an interesting find."

Sablo looks down at the arm that curls around his waist, he hasn't been in such a position since he was a small fledgling, and to think he was in this position again, and under the hands of the _Captain of the Powers _was almost too much for his mind to comprehend.

"Does this side make you shriek too?" Fingers dig into his left side, and he jumps, shrieking just as much as he had with the other. The Captain chuckles behind him in amusement. "It does. Very good."

"Sihihir?"

"Don't call me that here." He wiggles a finger in his right side and the younger angel squirms lightly, biting his lip. "Not in our home. My name's Nisroc." Another finger joins the one and it nearly breaks him. "Or Nis, everyone calls me Nis around here, you can call me that." Five fingers poise dangerously over his side. "Now, lets see if I can get that laughter you keep biting back out of you." Five fingers skitter up his side and he loses it, bending forward, over the arm wrapped around his waist, laughter exploding from him in torrents. His Captain's chuckles fill in the empty spaces between his fits of boisterous laughter. He had never imagined in his entire lifetime that he would ever find himself in this position with this particular angel. It's almost incomprehensible. But all he can focus on is the fingers dancing over his side.

"There it is!" The arm around his waist slowly uncurls and he makes to step forward, when it suddenly appears again, tugging him back against his Captain. "You step away from me and the tunic comes off."

The mere thought of having ten fingers dancing up and down his bare sides is enough to make him plant himself to the spot, using every ounce of strength he has to keep himself rooted there, lest he see how truly merciless his new Captain might be.

"Good choice."

Five fingers, on either side, poise themselves at the ready.

"Let's see what this does, shall we?"

Least to say, when they begin their dance, he jumps away from him. As promised, the Captain wrestles him out of his tunic, and he puts up as good a fight as he can but finds himself laying tunicless over his Captains bed anyway.

He's unashamedly _squealing _as five fingers spider up and down his left side and a bearded face burrows into his right.

Sablo doesn't care that the others might hear them, they've all been on the other side of the Captain's tortures, he's seen some of it himself, part of him knows he should have known that his time was coming too.

He's too focused on the—_By Father! Not there! Anywhere but there!_


	57. It's A Classic

**AN: As was requested by Aria! I hope you like it, girl!**

"She's been ignoring me all day."

He was at his wits end, no matter how much he tried to wrap his mind around it, he couldn't think of a reason as to why their youngest charge would be ignoring him. He couldn't remember wronging her in any way, they had shared plenty a joke that morning during breakfast, they hung out together well into the night before he had decided it was time for bed.

Was she upset that he had sent her to bed?

He'd let her sleep in his room with him, as she was prone to do, it was a mystery as to why she even had her own room seeing as she had never used it.

"Is she upset with me?"

Puriel adjusted his hold on the bucket of eels he had in his hand, switching it from his left to his right, and shared a look with Abraxos as his side. His brother shrugged, the little duckling hadn't made any mention to him of any distaste for the Captain, as far as he was aware, they were still in good spirits.

"I don't know. She hasn't mentioned anything to me." It was slightly comforting to know that her bestest of friends didn't know of any distaste she might have held for him, but that didn't explain as to why she was ignoring him, perhaps she was keeping her ire a secret, leaving him in a limbo of trying to figure out what he had done. "Why don't you just ask her?"

"Because, she won't talk to me, what part of that didn't you catch when I told you." He holds up two fingers. "Only two minutes ago."

Abraxos crosses his arms lightly, a particular expression over coming him, and he sets his jaw lightly. "She can't avoid you if you corner her."

"That's true." His Captain nods, scratching a finger over his chin thoughtfully. "You make a good point." He looks between the two of them carefully. "Is she in her room?"

Puriel and Abraxos exchange looks, turning back to nod at him, and he smiles in appreciation for their help. Turning in the direction of their rooms, he steps off, only turning to call over his shoulder. "It better not smell like eel guts in here later, Puriel."

"It won't."

"And Shelby better not get water everywhere." Nisroc glares at him playfully over his shoulder. "Again."

"You have my word."

He made his way down the hall quietly, peering in on the others as he passed their rooms, smiling at the sight of them. Titus sat at his desk, writing a letter to someone, no doubt his supposedly secret Love, he was not as great at hiding his secret affairs as he thought he was, but he was in no position to judge and all that mattered was that he was happy, nothing less.

Haniel was laying in his bed, reading through the same book he's read through countless times before, a journal of notes passed once between him and his best friend, Hasmal's loss had hit them all hard, but none so hard as it had hit Haniel. They were two peas in a pod, one was never far from the other, and now the one side of the coin was missing it's other half. Haniel had lost a part of himself since Hasmal had been taken from them, he didn't prank them as often, didn't laugh like he used to, it was the hardest blow the newly made youngest Power had ever taken and they all feared that it was one he wouldn't recover from, not truly.

Puriel's room was empty, of course, him and Abraxos were having a conversation in the front lounge. His sea snake, Shelby, was making quite the fuss in her tank waiting for her supper of eels.

His destination was the door across the hall from Abraxos' door, he turned, taking a deep breath as he looked upon the closed oak door, and curled his fingers loosely as he reached up to knock on the fine wood. "Aba," he stops to listen for a response. "Are you decent?"

There's a slight commotion from behind the door, something being slammed shut, and he quirks an eyebrow at the possibilities this particular secret could hold. Soft foot steps cross the floor, and the door opens a crack, small blue eyes peering out at him cautiously.

"I didn't do it."

His eyes narrow at the absurd confession. "Didn't do what?"

"It hasn't happened yet?" She sighs in relief. "Well, then, nothing."

He raises an eyebrow, but shakes it off, for now. "Aba, I'm sorry to interrupt whatever mayhem you were in the planning of causing."

"I can forgive you."

"But, I have to know, have I done anything to anger you?"

Their resident teenage 'Power' in training shrugs. "Not that I can think of."

"If I haven't done anything to anger you, then tell me, why are you ignoring me?"

Abraxas snorts softly. "I'm not mad at you, calm your horses down, I was just messing with you." She pushes against his chest lightly. "You should have seen your face though, you were getting all worried, you're going to get wrinkles someday."

He crosses his arms lightly. "You mean to tell me that you led me to believe I had wronged you just for a bit of fun?"

"I played you, dude, like a fiddle. You were getting all flustered and everything."

"You tricked me."

"Hardcore. It was hilarious." She reaches forward to pat his arms lightly. "Good times, thanks for a good time, it's been great."

"Not so fast, missy." He uncurls his arms to reach out for her, nabbing her by the collar of her tunic, and she jolted to a surprised stop. "You really had me concerned thinking I had hurt you in some manner."

"All I wanted was a good laugh, and I got it, no sweat about it."

"You wanted a good laugh?" He tugs her closer, until their chest to chest, his nose brushing against hers. "Nis, you need to calm down, it was just a joke."

"You want a good laugh?" He tugs her forward, closer. "Let's have a good laugh."

"I don't think I like the connotations behind that statement."

He yanks her forward, and she stumbles, tumbling over his shoulder as he kneels before her. She yelps, shaking her head to clear it, and pounds against his back.

"You are totally _overreacting_!"

"I'll show you overreacting."

The Captain steps into their young charges' room, turning slightly at the waist, he kicks the door closed. She doesn't make it easy for him, kicking and squirming, beating her fists against his back. But, he holds her steady, despite her struggling. He kicks off his boots off next to her bed, not wanting to track dirt all over the place, bending slightly at the waist as he pulls her up and over his shoulder, throwing her down on the bed.

Abraxas bounces, flailing as she does, staring up at her oldest brother with wide eyes.

"You had me thinking I had wronged you."

"Well, you didn't, I wasn't even mad at you."

"You let me think you were angry with me."

"I just wanted to see how long it would take for you to crack." She giggles lightly despite the precarious position she's in at the present moment. "It took a little over two hours. I kept a vigilant watch."

Her older brother smiles down at her, climbing up on the bed with her, gripping her ankles as he pulls her down within his reach.

"Let's see how long it takes you to crack."

She giggles softly in anticipation. "Let's not?"

His fingers curl around her wrists, holding them securely, gently, as he leans forward to hold them on either side of her head. He smiles down at her as she giggles, kissing her nose lightly, she scrunches her nose up at the feeling. "You know what I'm gonna do now?"

Abraxas shakes her head, giggling lightly, and he smiles again at the sound of it. "You want me to show you?"

"No!"

"I'm going to show you."

She shakes her head, giggling like she's a fledgling again, and he chuckles fondly. "No, Nis!" He leans over to the right side and she follows, scrunching up her shoulder tightly, he laughs softly as he leans over to the left and she does the same. "I'm gonna get you."

She giggles adorably in anticipation, and he leans forward to brush his nose against hers. "Let me show you my overreacting."

"Let's not and say you did?" Aba giggles lightly, staring into his eyes as he presses his forehead to hers. "That's not how this works." He kisses her nose again. "And you know this."

"Go easy on me?"

"I'll go easy on you, baby girl." She smiles up at him, leaning up to kiss his nose this time, and he smiles down at her adoringly. "Now, how upset did your little prank make me?"

"Not very upset?"

"No, I don't think so." He leans away, eyeing the side of her neck playfully. "I'm gonna start here." He thrusts himself forward, burying himself into the right side of her neck. She squeaks brightly, scrunching up her right shoulder in an instant, bright, high pitched giggles erupting from her like bright colorful bubbles from a freshly made bubble bath. He kisses at the skin playfully, like one does to a small fledgling, nuzzling in with his beard until she's nice and giggly.

"Nihihihis! Nihihihis! Get out! Get out!"

He presses another round of kisses, she shrieks brightly, and he chuckles. "Okay."

His little girl jolts, jumping in his grip, when he jumps to the other side. Her left shoulder shoots up, trapping him in his beloved place to torture, but it does nothing to inhibit him as he nuzzles his beard into her neck and she shrieks brightly.

He pulls away for a moment, resting his forehead against her again. "Still think I'm overreacting?"

She's nice and giggly, his favorite version of her, and nods her head lightly.

"Okay, then, let's move on." He kisses her nose and her face scrunches up again. "I'm going to make you say you deserve this."

"Never!"

"Never say never, baby girl."

The Power looks up at her hands, adjusting his grip on them, capturing both her left and right wrists in the same hand, and pokes a finger into her left underarm. "Let's try here." She giggles brightly, little spurts of laughter mixing in, tugging at her arms experimentally. "This isn't a good spot. I need a good spot. Let's go to a good spot."

Abraxas shakes her head, giggling up a storm, and he nods in time. "Oh, yes we are."

His attention turns down to her belly. "What about your little belly?" She shakes her head and he chuckles. "What do you mean _'no'_?"

Nisroc pokes at her belly with the fingers of his free hand. "I've always had a preference for your cute little belly, myself."

Abraxas curls her hands into fists, stiffens as much as she can, and takes on a determined expression. "Do your _worst_."

"Oh, the cockiness of the young." He smiles down at her at her challenge. "Your wish is my command."

The young charge of the Powers squeals when he lets go of her wrists, his hands shoot down to the hem of her tunic to lift it up, and he buries his face into her belly. He rubs his beard all over, it drives her crazy with laughter, he blows raspberry after raspberry and she squeals with every single one. Her fingers tangle in his hair, tugging and pushing at the same time, anything to get him and his beard and his raspberries away from her belly.

"Say it!" he kisses her belly button. "Say you deserve this!"

"Nehehehever!"

He curls his fingers around her upper thighs and digs in, she kicks and screams when he blows another raspberry into her belly, she yanks as hard as she can at his hair, and he laughs as he reaches up for her hands.

"I deserve it! I dehehehheserve iihihihihit!"

"Yes, you do." He kisses her belly on last time and pulls back, sitting up again, he laughs at the giggling mess he's made of his baby girl. "Are you okay?" She giggles up at him breathlessly. "I was a bit mean."

"Myhyhy belly! Huhuhurts! Myhyhyhy behehelly!"

The Captain laughs softly, chuckling in amusement, reaching down to pat her belly. "You _did_ ask for it."

"Yohohohou dihid yohohohour wohohorst!"

"You're just full of giggles now, aren't you?"

She merely giggles in response.

"Want to go help Puri feed Shelby?"

Abraxas nods, choking back her giggles, until they slowly start to dissipate. "I like watching her tear into the fish."

"I know you do."

The Captain turns, kneeling before the bed, holding his arms out. "Hop on." Their baby girl giggles again softly, pulling herself up, she crawls across her bed to climb up on his back. He stands, securing her on his back, and turns them towards the door. She bounces excitedly, leaning over his shoulder to point at the door, she loves helping Puriel feed his sea snake. "Come on! Come on! We have to get there before he does!"

"He was talking to Abe when I left him, knowing those two, we have more then enough time."

He crosses the room any way, turning the handle to open the door, stepping out into the hall. Puriel and Abraxos had just finished their conversation and parted, the medic making his way down the hall towards them, he smiles at the sight of them together.

"Told you she wasn't mad at you." He notes her red cheeks with amusement. "He sure got you, didn't he, little butterfly?"

Abraxas giggles. "I deserved it."

They exchange a smile at her giggles.

Puriel tugs at her leg lightly. "Want to help me feed Shelby?"

"Yes!" She jumps in Nisroc's hold and he grunts softly. "Can I!"

The medic chuckles softly, coming to stand at his Captain's side, he turns around. "Climb on, butterfly, of course you can help me."

Nisroc turns slightly, adjusting his grip, as she climbs from his back to the other Powers. Puriel curls his free arm around her left knee and nods to his Captain as he turns them in the direction of his room.

He watches them go fondly. "Puri, I'm serious, there better not be a mess."

"I make no promises."


	58. Getting To Know All About You

After his first encounter with the Captain, things began to grow much more calming for him, at least, it began to grow more calming when in the presence of his Captain. It was hard to be tense around a guy who had once had you sprawled out on his bed while he made you squeal like a fledgling, it was just impossible, the ice had been broken, and he found himself with an older brother he hadn't known he'd wanted until he gotten one.

Sablo had grown up one of six charges to the same caretaker, he was the smallest, the quietest, often times forgotten in the mix of the more rambunctious ones. He hadn't gotten quite as much attention as the others had gotten, being a bit more self sufficient then they had been, even though they had been older then him, meant that his needs were often pushed to the wayside. The others often made fun of his short stature, pushing him around and picking on him, he remembers very clearly how they had told him of everything he would _not _accomplish.

How they had laughed at him when he had said he wanted to be a warrior.

He was too small. Too shy. He wasn't _built _to be a warrior. And though the caretaker had scolded them for such behavior, he knew that they thought the same way, they never told him that they were wrong in what they said.

His older brothers, the ones he'd grown up with, had chosen to become warriors too and their teasing had continued even into training. They grew, tall and muscular, while he stayed the same. Maybe growing by a few inches, but there was little muscle he put on, he was still small and lithe, just as he'd always been.

And then word had started spreading of the Powers looking for a new elect and everyone tried their hardest to stick out.

Sablo hadn't had a hope in the world of being picked, being spotted, not by a _Power_, so he just went about his training as usual. There was no use trying to impress someone who would never be impressed by his small, lithe, self.

And then Abraxos had taken notice.

He'd stopped his walking through the masses, his searching, and came to stand before him as he went through the motions. He'd just stood there and watched, Sablo had fought every urge he had to turn and stare right back, and sighed a breath of relief when the Power finally turned away.

How his brothers had cornered him that evening.

It had only been in his luck that the Captain had entered their barrack, calling them all to attention by his mere presence alone, he'd greeted them all, but his focus was clearly on the quiet, shy, little thing that the others often time made fun of, he was the brunt of many jokes. He'd been offered the position, the others jaws dropping to the floor, and he'd stared at him with shock.

Eyes wide, mouth slightly ajar, under the impression that this had to have been another cruel joke being played.

But the Captain had assured him he was being very much very serious on his invitation.

He hadn't said anything at the time, but when he nodded, accepting the invitation, it had been the brothers he'd grown up with that the Captain had given the task of moving his things up to the Pavilion.

Sablo hadn't met someone quite as playful as the Captain was, an older brother who took the role very seriously, and older brother who acted like an older brother.

"Hello, sir."

He was always welcome in the Captain's room, to borrow from his collection of books, to stand by his side. He was never pushed away. Never frowned upon.

"Do I have to remind you not to call me that here?" Nisroc was sitting at his desk, working on the files he'd been given, he'd put them off for as long as he possibly could. "Again."

Sablo can't help it, he giggles softly, and he just manages to see his Captain smile at the sound as he crosses to examine the books in his bookcase. "I meant, hello, Nis."

"Much better." He closes one of the files and moves on to the next. "Come for a new book?"

"As long as you don't mind."

"You know I don't."

The young Power elect finds the book he'd like to read, pulls it out from its place on the shelf with a gentle finger, and tucks it under his arm for safe keeping. Turning to watch his Captain, the young Power crosses to stand by his side, watching him go through the files page by page, filling in the places that he needs to fill in, making sure every file entry is up to date.

"Do you need help?"

Nisroc smiles up at him for a brief moment, shaking his head in the negative, nodding to the chair next to him. "That's alright, I wouldn't want another soul to suffer through the boredom that is doing paperwork, I'd enjoy the company though."

The younger angel smiles slightly, taking the seat next to him, the elder Power dwarfs him in size.

"So, tell me about yourself," the elder spares him an amused smile. "The only thing I know about you is how to make you squeal like a little fledgling."

Sablo feels his cheeks heat up, and he ducks as he's sure the color red has over come his pale complexion, feeling the burn in his cheeks more than ever when the Captain chuckles softly. He reaches out and pokes him in the side lightly, smiling when he makes the younger angel jolt lightly, and turns the page of the file he's reading through.

"Don't worry about it, it's endearing, but I come back to what I said." Sablo looks up at him. "Tell me about yourself."

"W—What do you want to know?"

"Anything." His writing hand comes to a halt for a moment. "I barely know you." Sablo stares up at him with wide eyes and he sighs softly. "How about your fledglinghood, did you grow up with any siblings? Did you have fun? Get into any trouble? Tell me about it."

Sablo shrugs. "There's not much to tell. I was just as shy as I am now. Quiet. Small. My brothers picked on me a lot. They laughed when I said I wanted to be a warrior." He looks down for a moment ashamedly. "They said I was too small. Too weak. It was the joke of our flock."

"They bullied you?" Nisroc frowns lightly, turning to look at him with more attention, Sablo looks up at him in alarm and nods. "What did your caretakers say?"

He shrugs again. "I mean, they scolded them for it, but I always got the impression they agreed."

"That's unacceptable. Did it ever come to an end?"

Sablo nods. "Yes?"

The older angel narrows his eyes. "Try that again."

"No." He looks down in shame. "They got worse after Abraxos approached me during training."

"They're warriors too?"

"Yes, sir."

Nisroc points a finger at him. "I _will_." Sablo smiles, a giggle bursting from his chest at the thought of it, and he leans away from his Captain. "_Nis_, I meant _Nis_." He wiggles his finger at him threateningly. "I'll let it slide this time. But _one _more slip up and you're going to get it."

"Their behavior is unbecoming of a warrior. I'll have a word with them immediately." He looks over the youth next to him. "And, you'll come with me."

"Do I have to?"

"I'll make it an order."

The young elect sighs, nodding in turn, and the Captain rubs his hair fondly. "Don't believe a word they say. The warrior is only as great as their skill is, not their build, and you're the one that's going to become a Power, not them." His hand travels down from his head to cup his cheek lightly. "Your older brothers failed at their most important job. I will not. _We _will not."

"What?"

"Did you think we're just a group of soldiers?" Nisroc shakes his head. "No, we're a family, and you, my young friend, are one of the babies of our close knit family." Sablo blushes deeply and he chuckles. The Captain throws aside the file he's working through, putting them off for just a little bit longer won't hurt anything, besides it's for something important. "Well, now I'm upset, there was big brothers who failed at being big brothers to their precious baby brother."

Sablo feels as though he knows where this is going, so he slowly starts to rise from his chair, hoping to make his escape in quick fashion.

He stands from his seat just as quickly. "Not so fast." He catches him around the waist as he tries to skirt around him. "We're going to help each other feel better. You need to know what it's like to have a proper big brother. And, I need to ensure my new baby brother knows how much he's cared for."

"I'm okay, really!"

"But we _have_ to make sure."

He knows his escape is a futile mission when fingers curl into his left side and dig in.


	59. Speaking On The Past

"I don't understand," their Captain joined them after his fifth attempt on gaining entry into their youngest's room and failing, claiming a place between Puriel and Titus on the soft cushioned lounger. "It's just a bedroom. How on earth can she still be so upset about it."

It had nearly been three weeks since Sablo had requested the room across the hall from Abraxos, and she'd been forced into moving to the room next to Nisroc's, and she hadn't come out of her room since that fateful day.

Puriel shrugged next to him. "Who knows?"

"Was I too harsh?" He looks between his brothers. "Too firm?"

"I don't think so." Titus was listening to their conversation but had yet to put the book he'd buried his nose into down, participating rather fluidly but still reading the beloved text, they all recognized the book, he'd read it a number of times before. "She had been pestering about it for well over thirty minutes."

"Something doesn't feel right, though." Abraxos rubbed at his chin lightly in thought. "Something's looming over our heads and I can't figure out what it is." He turned to face his Captain. "She hasn't even talked to _me_, and well, she tells me _everything_."

That was a concerning admission, a concerning truth to learn, Abraxas did tell her older counterpart everything. No matter how trivial it may be, she told him, every time. For her to shut him out too was something to be concerned over. Something had changed since she'd been forced into switching rooms.

Nisroc curled an arm around the back of his head and leaned back against the backrest behind him. "Something is indeed out of place."

"I could move." Sablo peeped up from across the way, sitting next to Puriel quietly, he was so hushed they had forgotten he was there with them, and they all turned to look at him at the realization he was there. They had to get him out of his shell. He was one of them. He wasn't going anywhere. "I don't want to cause any harm. If she needs the room back, I would be happy to move to another." He looked up at his Captain. "As long as that's okay."

Nisroc thought for a moment, giving in and switching rooms would send things back to normal, but he inevitably shook his head. "No, she doesn't _need _that room, she's just being stubborn, no doubt." He turned to look at the young elect. "You'll stay where you are." Sablo nodded and let the matter rest, turning back to his own book, falling back into the background again.

They watched him for a moment, until he felt their gazes and looked up, then they turned away.

One problem at a time.

But they really had to get him to open up.

"Perhaps we should move her back," Abraxos looked over to his Captain and their eyes met. "Something about the move has turned some sort of stopper. Perhaps we should."

"No." Their Captain shook his head in finality. "She has to learn that she can't have everything she wants. Admittedly, we are all guilty of it, we tend to dote on her." He nods again, as if trying to convince himself, and not completely succeeding. "We knew things would be a bit rough when she returned to us. There would be some things we'd have to work through. But it's _just _a bedroom."

"It's hard to help her though when she won't let us in."

He nodded in agreement at Haniel, it wasn't often he got as serious as he was, but these precarious times called for such seriousness from all of them.

"Perhaps," Hasmal was looking down at his scarred hands, he was retardant to the flame, but that didn't mean he wasn't afflicted when it got hot enough. Everything had a melting point. "We should get someone to talk to her." He looked up in time to see Abraxos open his mouth. "Someone that _isn't _us. Maybe what she has to share is something she can't share with us."

They all thought over his words carefully.

Hasmal took a deep breath. "I want to help her just as much as the rest do, and we clearly aren't suitable enough, she needs someone else." He knew a problem when he saw one, and he knew the signs of a breakdown when he saw them, having had a number himself, he knew the signs quite well. "She is not okay, that much is evident, she is heading down a very dangerous path, she needs someone to stop her trek before she falls again. Metaphorically."

He hated to admit it, but Abraxos understood, he agreed. If she wasn't comfortable coming to him, then he'd be more then happy to find someone she was comfortable talking to, seeing her like this pained him more than any inflicted wound ever had. She was home, he had her back, and yet, at the same time, she was still so far away.

"But, who?" He turned to look at the fire starter. "Who could we go to that she would let in?"

Hasmal nodded slightly, he hadn't thought that far, it had been an idea that had been swirling around in his head for quite some time. "Perhaps we should ask Akriel." They turned to look at him. "She's been through something traumatic, and I don't think that only includes her exile and Fall, that's something he specializes in."

The oldest Power nodded in understanding. "He'd be more then happy to help, if we asked." He looked between them all. "We'll give it another week, see if there is any change, and we will seek him out if there is not."

…

Her door was normally locked.

That was the first thing that alerted him when he had knocked on the door, received no response, and reached for the door handle. It turned, the lock didn't catch it, she must have stepped out of her room recently, perhaps to use the restroom, and forgot to lock the door when she returned.

He turned the handle all the way, hearing the stopper unlatch from the keeper, and he pushed the door open gently. "Aba, are you in here?"

He stopped short.

She stared up at him with wide eyes, looking very much like someone being caught doing something wrong, and his eyes went between the small razor clutched in her shaking fingers and the long bleeding slices that painted her delicate skin. It was one of his razors, the one that he used to shave when the natural stubble he liked to wear got too long, he had been forced into getting a new one because his old one had seemingly disappeared, now he knew where it had gone.

"Abe…" Anger flashed in her eyes. "What are you doing! Get out! _Get out_!"

He looked down at her sadly, carefully, and slowly made his way across the room. "Aba…" He kneels some paces away when she scoots back from him. "Aba, what are you doing?"

"It's none of your business! Get out of my room! _Get out!_" She reaches for the first thing she can manage, a book on the side table, and throws it at him as best as she can. "_Get out!_ I'm _doing _something! Mind your own business!"

He catches the book and set it down next to his right foot, shaking his head gently. "Ada, why?"

"Because….Because it helps! Okay! It _helps_!" It pains him, his heart aches, when she curls her fingers around the blade of the razor and red blood drops from her cut fingers, and she doesn't so much as flinch. "It helps it all just _go away_! It helps me breath! Helps me _live_! It's not even that bad!"

"Aba…"

"It's not!"

He holds his hand out and she jumps back from him, drops of blood flying onto the thick quilt on top of her bed, underneath her, and leaves stains where they land. "Aba, I need you to give me it."

"No! _No! _I need it! I _need _it!" Tears spill from her eyes and it breaks his heart, how does he help someone who won't let him help them. "_Get out_!"

"I can't, Aba, I'm not leaving."

"Well, then, you'll just have to watch!" She inhales a shaky breath. "Because I need it! _I need it! _Don't you understand! I can't not do it!"

"Aba, please," he doesn't move, but his hand never falls, and her frantic eyes hop from his outstretched hand to his concerned eyes, and she gives the most heart wrenching whine he's ever heard. "I need you to pass it to me."

"I can't! I _can't, _Abe! It's all I have left! _It's all I have left_!" She drops the razor on her bed, next to her right knee, as she reaches up to grasp at her head, fingers curling into her hair, smearing red blood over the blonde strands until they're a strawberry pink. "Everything else is gone! _Everything else is gone! _My family! My brothers! My home! My _room_! _Me! _Everything's _gone _Abe!" Her chest starts heaving, slow at first, but it picks up pace. "This is the only thing I have! _This!_ And I won't—I won't let you take it from me!"

He reaches forward quickly, before she can react, and snatches up the razor. Closing it with quick fingers, he slips it into his pocket, eyebrows scrunched together in worry. "Oh, Aba.."

"No! _No!" _She jumps forward for him, for the razor he's taken from her, and he catches a glimpse of her sliced up fingers and sighs sadly standing away from her. "Give it back! _Give it back! _I need it! _I need it!_" He steps away from her when she manages to stumble off the edge of her bed. "Abe! _Abe! _I need it! It _helps _me!"

"It's only a temporary fix, baby girl."

"But it _helps_!" Her voice cracks and it breaks his heart into a million pieces. "It hurts, okay, it _hurts_! It _all _hurts so bad, and it takes the pain away! So, _I need it!_"

"You need help."

"I do _not_!" Her fists clench, blood drops down the fingers over her wounded hand, her eyes watery from tears but full of mind numbing hysteria. "I _need _you to give it _back _and then I _need _you to _fuck off_!"

Abraxos feels his throat tighten, he swallows back his own tears, as he finally sees how broken his beloved little ducking is. Somethings broken his baby girl, something more then the Fall alone, and it hurts him beyond words to not know how to help her. "We're going to get you some help, alright."

"Abe! _Please!" _She reaches out pleadingly. "_Please!" _

The cry she lets out when he shakes his head allows a single tear to escape his eye. "I'm going to get you help. You need help, baby girl, we're going to get you some help." She chokes on a sob as he backs out of her room, closing the door softly as the others gather, no doubt from the commotion.

Nisroc reaches out for him when his shoulders heave as he finally lets the gathered emotions break down the wall he'd built while in the middle of that heart breaking confrontation. "Abe, Abe what's wrong, we heard the yelling."

He shakes his head, taking a deep breath, wiping at his eyes with his fingers for a moment. "We need to get help." They all exchange a look. "It's worse then we thought it was." He turns to Haniel, shaking his head as he clears the heart wrenching pain he feels from his mind. "Go, go get some help. We need help. We need help _now_."

The young Power nods silently, turning and darting away, to find someone who could help them. He didn't know what was wrong, but for it to break Abe the way it had, he knew it had to be bad, and it made it even worse knowing that he had stepped out of their little ones room with such pain.

Puriel steps forward, setting a gentle hand on his arm, Titus close on his shoulder. "Brother?"

Abraxos inhales deeply, fishing in his pocket for the confiscated razor he'd taken and held it up for them all to see. It's painted red, a light coating, Titus makes a heartbroken sound, reaching out for the razor, and takes it gently in hand. "Is this…?" He looks up to the other Power for confirmation, hoping he'll deny it, but knowing the chances are slim. His brother nods, confirming all their worst fears, and closes his eyes. "She needs help."

Nisroc turns from them, curled forward, his face buried in his hands. Titus curls his fingers tightly around the bloody folded razor and shakes his head silently, too overcome for words. Puriel curls the fingers of his left hand around his forehead in shock. Abraxos turns from them as the tears fall from his eyes once more, this time he does nothing to inhibit them, it's hitting him the hardest, they've always been so close, and to know that she's hurting so horribly and there's nothing he can do breaks him inside.

Hasmal closes his eyes sadly. "In order for one to truly rebuild, one must shatter."

They wait in silence for some time, for Haniel to return with whomever he sought out for help, wallowing in their silent worry and heartbreak. Not a sound is heard from within the room, and they think the worst, wanting to barge in to see what could be happening, but they hold themselves back. The last thing they need to do is overwhelm her, not at this time, they needed guidance for this one, they didn't know what to do and it killed them inside.

Their baby was hurting, and they didn't know how to make it better.

Haniel returns a good twenty minutes later, jogging down the hall towards them, two silhouettes following behind him. The shadows of the darkened hall reveals the two mysterious figures as they draw closer, Akriel jogs with him at his right shoulder, and at his left jogs the healers Archangel.

They should really light the torches in the hall to offer them some light.

Hasmal excuses himself softly to do just that, flames igniting in his right hand, he walks quietly passed them to light the torches in the hall to cast some illumination over them.

Akriel takes a deep breath, to catch his breath after jogging the entire length between the Infirmary and the Pavilion, looking between the group of Powers with a curious sort of concern, his archangel doing much of the same from over his shoulder. "What's wrong?" He looks to Nisroc for guidance on the situation at hand. "Haniel said you all needed my help but didn't give any specifics."

"Aba…" He turns to look at Abraxos when he's the one who speaks up. "Abraxas needs help. You're the one we all thought of for help."

The Virtue frowns lightly. "What's wrong with little Aba?"

"She's breaking." Hasmal rejoined them, coming up to stand beside the Healer, he was a soft spoken Power. "Titus?"

The taller Power looked up at his name being called, nodded quietly, and held his fist out for the Virtue. Akriel met him, raising his own hand, palm up, for whatever he held clutched in his fist so tightly. He dropped a razor, bloodied and slick, into his palm, and the specialist hums in understanding, nodding a brief nod. "I understand. I'd be more then happy to help, especially if it's for little Aba, I'll see what I can do." He looks between them all. "Do you have anything abrasive? A scrubbing brush? Sand paper? Anything?"

Nisroc tilts his head slightly, having raised his head from his hands. "There's a scrubbing brush." He looks confused. "Do you need it?"

He nods. "I do."

Nodding, the Captain leaves them for a moment, turning into their wash room for a brief stint and returned with the requested item. It's damp as he sets it in the Virtue's hand and Akriel raises an eyebrow at it.

"I rinsed it off."

"Right." He nods in appreciation, exchanging a look with his Archangel, and turns for the door that holds their broken baby girl behind it. "Give us a bit. I'll come get you when we're done."

He slips into the room, leaving them standing in the hall with the Healer, the archangel turns to them as the door clicks shut behind his Virtue. "Talk to me, little ones."

…

Akriel takes in the room as he enters, the desk upturned, the books strewn apart, objects that should be hanging on the wall in a pile in the far corner of the room. He turns to the bed, where he knows his patient would be, and he spots a pale hand sitting just outside the mound under the quilt.

"Aba?"

"Abe?" The mound shifts as she moves. "Did you bring it back?"

The quilt is pulled from her head and her eyes widen as they meet the gentle ones of the trauma specialist. "Hey, buttercup."

"Ak?"

"I'm here to help." He crosses the room to sit on the edge of the bed beside her, holding the scrub brush out to her, she looks down at it with confusion, looking up at him with confused eyes after a long moment. "Here, take it." She reaches out with her other hand, it's shaking softly, he takes notice of the blood staining her palm and fingers immediately but forgoes that for a moment. "I want you to rub this on your good arm, nice and hard, until it starts to burn." He knows her other arm is not a prime location for this treatment. Her eyebrows scrunch in confusion as she gazes up at him. He smiles at her gentle, nodding slightly. "Trust me, it'll help."

Sniffling softly, she sits up straighter, legs crossing under her as she pulls the sleeve up over her good arm and begins scrubbing at the smooth skin with the brush. He watches her carefully, noting the small things as she does as he requested, the greasy hair, the pallor color of her complexion, the bags under her eyes, and, of course, the patch of smeared blood in her hair, undoubtedly where she had curled her bloody fingers in.

She rubs until her arm turns red and the air around them stings the irritated skin. He was right though, she does feel better, more stable, grounded even.

The older angel holds his hand out for the brush, and she passes it to him silently. "It works, doesn't it?" He leans over and places the brush down on the table next to them, pulling the satchel he carried up over his head, he's worked with enough patients who specifically request him to know what sort of supplies are needed. She nods in wonder, staring down at the red mark it left on her arm, and then up to him with wide eyes.

Akriel smiles down at her. "It releases serotonin to your brain, the same way cutting yourself does, same affect, one less scarring then the other." He reaches for her good hand. "May I take your hand?"

He waits for her to nod in ascent. His fingers are so much bigger then hers as they curl lightly around her wrist and turn her arm over, he gestures for her to turn the arm over that has the bloody hand attached to it, curling his fingers under hers as her palms face up to them.

The Virtue raises her arm that has the red patch. "This'll fade." And then the other that has the deep slices. "This will not." He lets got of her wrist in favor of cradling her bloody hand in both of his, and he looks up from it at the same time she does. "This looks like it hurts." Aba nods in agreement. "Do you want me to patch it up?"

She sniffles softly wiping at her nose with the back of her free hand. "Yes, please."

"Okay." He still cradles her hand in his, even as he turns, opening the flap of the satchel he brought and fishes out what he needs. A clear bottle of disinfectant. A couple of cleaning cloths. A swath of bandages to bind the wound with. He sets them all in his lap, setting her hand on his knee, he uncaps the bottle and pours some on the rag. "This may sting a bit." He smiles as the fingers of her good hand curl into his sleeve tightly. "Ready?"

Abraxas nods, watching in fascination as he dabs at the deep cut in her palm, she hisses in pain and her grip on his sleeve tightens. "I'm sorry, I'll try and work fast." She nods at him and he smiles at her again, returning to his cleaning. He rubs the excess blood away, presses the rag against the deep cuts in her palm and fingers, setting the dirtied cloth aside as he takes the bandages in hand and wraps them snuggly around her hand until all that pops out at them is her fingertips. He raises her hand to his lips and presses a kiss lightly to the tips of her fingers. "You're doing great, little buttercup."

He's rewarded with a small smile.

A baby step, but also a milestone, she's one of the strongest angels he knows.

"Do you want me to patch up your arm as well?"

She nods and holds her sliced arm out to him, he curls his fingers gently around her wrist and pulls her arm down to lay in his lap, where he takes up the clean cloth and the disinfectant again. This one is much easier to clean then her hand had been, the slices are clean, smooth straight lines, if a bit deep. He wraps them just as snuggly in bandages as well.

He lets her pull her arm back when he's finished, and instructs her to turn with his hand, and she follows his gestured position for her. "Turn around for me, lean back against the pillow, crawl under the blankets." She does as she's told silently, looking up at him with wide childlike eyes, and he smiles at her again. "We're going to take this and get it washed, okay?" He gestures down to her quilt, bloody hand prints stain the top, and she nods her head. Taking her approval, the Virtue curls the quilt up and tosses it towards the door, he take it on his way out. He turns in the same manner she sits in, sliding under the blankets at the foot of her bed, crossing his legs under him, he reaches out and pulls her feet up into his lap.

"I want you to repeat after me now, okay?"

She nods silently.

"I'm going to be okay."

A slight sniffle. "I'm going to be okay."

"I'm going to get through this."

Her nose twitches lightly and she reaches up to scratch at it with her good fingers. "I'm going to get through this."

"I'm as strong as a mountain." She gives him a look and he chuckles lightly. "I know it's silly, but you promised, you have to say it."

"I'm as strong as a mountain."

"Good." He squeezes her feet. "I'm an overcomer."

"I'm an overcomer."

"Good girl." He digs his thumbs into her soles, and she sighs in comfort. "Last one, I'm _never _alone."

"I'm never alone."

"No, no." His thumbs still and she whines lightly. "You have to say it just like that, I'm _never _alone, just like that." He digs his thumbs back in, rubbing at her feet lightly.

"I'm _never _alone."

"Good girl, buttercup, you're doing amazing." Theres another small smile and it makes his heart sore. "Now, I want you to talk to me, tell me anything. Abe said you told him that you were hurting badly, talk to me about it, tell me what hurts so we can make it better together."

She shakes her head, biting her lip, there's so much to talk about. So much that causes her pain. Just so much.

"Okay, we can start slow." He rubs his thumbs down the center of her left foot and her tense muscles melt slightly, her feet settling more comfortably in his lap. "Abe told me about what you said. He said you told him your family was gone. How are they gone?"

She sniffles, rubbing at her nose lightly. "I don't…I don't know…."

"That's okay." He rubs his fingers up the calf of her right leg and feels the tension drain away under his skilled fingers. "How about your home, how's your home gone?"

"So….So much has changed." Abraxas looks down at her lap. "Everything kept moving on while I was gone. It just doesn't feel like home anymore."

"In what way?"

"I don't know…Everyone just seems so different now." She pokes at the bandages on her bound hand. "I feel like I'm in the way now."

"Have they ever told you that you were."

"Well, no, but….They're too nice to ever say it if it was true."

"I don't know about that." Akriel hums softly. "They're all pretty open about their opinions and feelings. I feel like they would have told you." He switches over to her left calf. "How about your brothers, how are they gone, where'd they go?"

"I don't know….They…They…" She sniffles softly, wiping away a tear as it escapes, letting her hand drop back into her lap. "They moved on after me…They moved on from me….They got new young ones to care for…New charges…...And I'm happy that they did….That they could give another a home like they gave me…But…But…"

"You can't help but feel a bit replaced?"

His buttercup nods lightly, wiping away another tear, sniffling some more.

"You know they could never replace you, right?" He wiggles her left big toe lightly and she looks up at him. "You're their fledgling, their baby girl, no matter how many new charges they take in, none could _ever_ replace you."

He hums lightly, tugging on her toes softly. "You know where your brothers are right now?"

Abraxas shrugs. "N—Nis is gonna take S—Sasha and Paul to the m—market today." She rubs at her eyes lightly. "T—Tus is going to the Garden with Andre."

"They're all _right there_." She looks up as he nods towards the door. "On the other side of that door there. Every single one of them. They're all waiting out there anxiously and concerned."

"W—Really?"

"I would never lie to you." The Virtue nods. "They are all out there waiting for you. Waiting to come in to see you. Waiting to help you. Do you know why?"

She shakes her head.

"Because they love you, silly. They _adore _you. They'd do anything for you. Did you know, when Michael first cast you out, Abe relinquished his position. He stepped down and switched flocks."

"N—No."

"Did you know that Haniel slept in your room for the first week you were gone?"

The young lady shakes her head.

"They were a mess without you. They love you _that much_."

He curls his fingers over the tops of her feet and tug lightly, popping the joint softly. "What happened to your room?"

"Nis..Nis gave it to the new elect."

"What was so important about that room to you?"

"It was…It was mine…."

Akriel nods slightly. "It was your piece of stability." He looks up at her briefly. "You'll get your room back, immediately, you'll get it back tonight and it'll be set up just the way it was before."

She looks up at him with wide eyes. "I can have my room back?"

"I'll make sure you get it back as soon as we're done here."

She smiles at him, this smile just a bit bigger then the other ones. "Thanks, Ak."

"Of course, buttercup, you need that room."

Now to address the topic that could have so many connotations. "What about yourself?" He falls still, giving her his undivided attention, he feels her go tense under his hands. "What did you mean when you said you lost yourself."

Abraxas looks down again, staring at her hands, a faraway look coming to her eyes. "I don't want to talk about that."

"Talk about what?"

_"That." _

He rubs the back of her left foot softly. "It'll help to talk about it. It's just me, buttercup, just Ak. You know you can tell me anything."

"It's bad Ak." She pets at the bandages around her hand. "It's _really _bad."

"Just start at the beginning. Take your time." She hiccups softly. "There's no rush."

She nods, reaching out for him after a brief moment, and he adjusts his position to accommodate her. "Will you hold me, Ak?"

"Of course, buttercup, come here." She crawls across her bed, into his lap, settling up against him, and he curls his arms around her protectively. "Tell little ole Ak what's holding you back."

"It's…It's….You know how I fell right?"

"It's a day that we will all remember with heavy hearts."

She sniffles, curling the fingers of her good hand into his tunic, she ducks into his chest.

"I—I was powerless…I was…I was _weak…._I was alone….so alone…..." She chokes on her words. "Someone….Someone found me…..I thought….I thought they were a friend….." A tear escapes her eye and gets trapped in the fabric of his tunic. "They were so nice…..they gave me a place to stay…..they gave me clothes and food…..I thought they were good…." He strokes his thumb over her cheek, caressing her cheek lightly. "What happened, buttercup."

"They…They….Ak it was so horrible!" He curls around her tighter when she hides away in his chest. "They…They made me _do _things…Do _bad bad _things…With so _many _people….It hurt, Ak….It hurt so much." More tears escape her eyes, soaking the front of his tunic, and her grip becomes so tight that her knuckles pop softly. "I couldn't…I couldn't stop crying and they got so _mad_….and…and they locked me in this closet for days…..and…and then…..I wanted to die, Ak….I begged Father to let me die….."

That was his worst fear, it was something he didn't know how her brothers would take, it would destroy them just as much as it destroyed her. He hugged her tighter, kissing the top of her head lightly, and let her bury herself into his embrace.

"I couldn't…...I couldn't tell them, Ak….they'd be so mad….They can't know…"

"They'd never be mad at you, buttercup, never, especially about that."

She looks up at him, eyes wide and full of tears, and she inhales deeply. "You promise?"

He nods softly. "I do."

Abraxas blinks up at him, her eyes watering up even more, as a few more tears trickle down her cheeks. "I—I want Abe."

"Let's go get him, then."

She nods, slipping out of his lap so that he can stand, curling back into his side when he's climbed to his feet. Together they cross the room, and she lets him reach for the door handle, pulling it open slightly. Her eyes widened at the sight of her big brothers, all six of them, and they all turn to look at her with concern and adoration. She chokes on a cry, they're all there, just like Ak said they were, and she turns to hide away from them in shame. He rubs her arm comfortingly. "Hey, Abe, come in."

The Power in question nods, stepping forward, between Puriel and Titus. Looking for all the world he wanted to pull his crying baby sister into his arms, but refrained, this was a touchy situation and Akriel appreciated his self-restraint. He knew how close the two of them were, anyone who knew them knew how close they were, they were two peas in a pod together.

Akriel led them back to the center of the room, gesturing for the tall Power to close the door behind him, and he did as he was told, coming to meet them where they stand. He looked down to his baby girl in concern and then to the trauma specialist for guidance.

The Virtue smiles up at him, and then looks down to the girl curled against his side, rubbing her arm again. "Do you want to tell him, or do you want me to tell him?"

"Can…Can we…Can we not?"

He kisses her head lightly. "We have to, buttercup, so they can help you."

"Y—You."

"Okay, buttercup." Akriel turns to Abraxos. "Now, you have to give me your word you'll stay calm." He rubs his patients arm lightly. "The last thing we need is to startle her."

"Okay." The Power nods. "I give you my word."

"Good." He grimaced slightly, he was never good at these things, this was more his archangels forte. "The most important thing is that you need to know you can't touch her without permission. Nothing. Hugs, tickles, cuddles, you have to ask permission first."

Abraxos frowns lightly. "Alright."

"Okay, I don't know how to put this so I'm just going to come out and say it, your baby girl has been assaulted. Multiple times, from the sounds of it."

Abraxas tightened her grip on him.

Abraxos tilted his head. "What?" First came the confusion. How could anyone think that something like that could happen to someone they love. "I don't understand."

"Come here." There was no need to rehash everything for her again, so he leaned forward, gesturing for the Power to lean in. He whispered in the Power's ear what she had told him, nothing specific, she hadn't said anything specific, but there was no mistaking the meaning behind her words. The Power's eyes widened as he told him, shooting down to his little one, mouth dropping ajar in shock.

Akriel leaned back again.

"Aba…..Is it true?"

The youngest Power, as unofficial as it may be, she would always be the youngest Power, inhaled deeply. A sob tore from her throat, and she nodded pitifully, clutching to the Virtues tunic. "Please…Please don't be mad! Please! I couldn't—couldn't fight them!"

"Be mad?" He stepped forward, and then remembered what Akriel had said, and stopped where he was at. "I could never be mad at you, little duckling, especially not about that."

She rubs at her eyes miserably. "M—Mean it?"

He opens his arms but doesn't reach out. "Mean it." She stares at him for a moment. "Hug?"

She nods, eyes screwing up as more tears gathered, letting go of Akriel in favor of jumping into his arms. He hugged her close, kissing the top of her head, as she sobbed miserably into his chest. She clutched at his tunic, burying her face into his chest, and he bent over her as though to physically hide her from the rest of the world. "Can I pick you up?" She nods and he adjusts his hold, curling his fingers around her midsection, he hefts her up. His duckling curls her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder. "It's going to be okay."

"I—It's goin—going to b—be ok—okay."

He looks confused at her mimicking him and turns to Akriel for support. The Virtue offers a kind smile. "It's a mechanism."

Abraxos shrugs, he couldn't care less, twisting around gently with his duckling in his arms. "That's right. That's exactly right."

The Virtue touches a hand to his shoulder. "Keep holding her. She needs you now more then ever. I'm going to go tell the others." He gestures to the satchel on the table. "There's some sleeping droughts in there. Have her drink one. She needs sleep."

The Power nods, thanking him softly over her shoulder, and he nods in acknowledgement and offers a kind smile.

…

"I'll kill them. Every single one. Slowly and painfully."

He stood next to his Archangel as he watched them react to the news, it was something that was never taken easily, especially when it was someone you loved as dearly as they loved her.

Haniel and Hasmal nodded, standing side by side, the latter's skin smoking as he stood on the verge of breaking into flames at the mere thought that someone would have the audacity to touch one of their own, their baby, their fledgling, in such a horrid manner.

Titus had buried himself into his hands, absorbing the news quietly, he was always the most sensitive one of them. He understood why she didn't come to him, Akriel had explained rather well, but it still hurt that she thought they'd be ashamed of _her _for something like that happening. It wasn't her fault. She hadn't asked for it.

Nisroc was pacing back and forth, Puriel standing on his other side, watching him march from one spot to the other. His fingers flexing into and out of fists, swearing under his breath as he spouted _everything_ he was going to do to those scumbags, even the archangel flinched at how creative the Captain got in his promises for revenge. None of them had known calm, kind, and loving Nisroc could be so cruel.

"Nis, I don't think some of those are even humanly _possible_."

He turned his enraged eyes to the medic. "I'll _make _them possible."

"Kill them later." Akriel was unphased by his anger, though a bit startled at the surprising amount of violence he was capable of, it just didn't fit with his usual persona. "_She_ needs you now. Your guys baby girl thinks you're all going to be mad at _her _for what happened."

"We would never." Haniel and Hasmal nodded in time with each other. Titus looked up from under his fingers. Puriel held his Captain to a stop as they both turned to look at the Virtue with wide eyes. "_Never_."

"You and I know that." He points at the door behind him. "But her, _she _doesn't. You guys mean more than anything in the world to that girl in there. You _are _her world. She thinks you'll all be too ashamed to let her be a part of yours."

"She is ours."

"Make sure she knows that. Every chance you get." Akriel shares a glance with his Healer, the archangel nods in approval and affirmation. "I'm pulling you guys from active duty for a short while. I don't want her to be alone, not right now, not for some time to come, and the only ones she'll let near are you all. You need to be with her for now, never leave her side, not even when she's sleeping."

He looks them all in the eye. "And don't touch her without asking her first. No matter how simple the touch may be, you have to ask permission, at least for now, until the wounds can begin to heal over."

Akriel turned to Nisroc individually. "And, she gets her room back. Now. Immediately. Everything has to be set up just the way it was before. It's not just a bedroom in her eyes, it's the one thing that's hers, its stability in a sea of chaos. Change is not something she can handle at this time. It's too much for her mental state."

Raphael nods in tune with his Virtues orders. "I will take the task of telling my brother, you all just care for your beloved little girl."

The Powers nod as one, coming to stand together, looking passed them at the door. "Can we…?"

Akriel and the Healer step apart, the mental trauma specialist gestures to the door. "Be my guest. I left a satchel in there with bandages and disinfectant, along with some vials of sleeping drought to help get her through the night," he looks to Puriel. "I trust you keep an eye on her hand."

"Of course."

"Good." He dusts his hands off on his vest. "If you need me again, for anything, you know where to find me."

Nisroc presses a hand to his arm as he comes to stand before him, sincerity shining in his eyes as he looks down at him. "Thank you."

"Always, brother."

…

Abraxos looks up as they enter the room, swaying side to side, he'd helped her down one of the sleeping droughts just as the door had shut behind him at Akriel's exit. Her sobs had died down, Zed was a magical man when it came to how fast his products worked, she was laying drowsily against his shoulder. Nose stuffy from the sobs and cries, she breathed lightly in and out, hanging limply in his arms. He nodded at them as they approached, concerned at her stillness, and nodded over to the empty vial that had once contained a sleeping drought.

"She took her first one." He rubbed her cheek with his chin. "She's pretty sleepy now."

"Mmmm."

"Hey, duckling, look who all's here to see you."

He speaks softly, gently, into the air around them. She stirs lightly, lifting her head up to look at who it was he was talking about. The others wave at her, offering gentle smiles, and she returns it drowsily, laying back against Abe's shoulder.

"Baby girl?" She hums up at him, her eyes swiveling up to meet his, Nisroc smiles down at her gently. "Can I touch you?"

He waits patiently for her to nod, and once she does, he cups the back of her head and leans forward to kiss her forehead. "We'll make things better again, alright, you just let us take care of everything." She nods again, licking her lips. "'Kay, N's."

He rubs her back softly, then reaches closer to stroke the backs of his fingers over her cheek tenderly, she closes her eyes softly at the gentle touch. A far cry from the way the Captain had been raging in the hall outside.

"You and Sablo are going to switch rooms, alright, right now." She nods again, too sleepy to say too much, to do much more then nod. "You go cuddle up with Abe and we'll take care of everything for you."

"L..Lo'nge.."

The others smile at the request, nodding along as their Captain smiles and leans in to kiss her forehead again, stroking his hand down the back of her head. "Sure, when we're all done, we'll come get you and Abe and we'll all curl up with you in the Lounge."

"L…ov..e….Y'o…N's…"

"I love you too, baby girl, we all do. With all our hearts." He rubs her cheek with his thumb. "You get some sleep, alright, we'll take care of everything for you."


	60. A Bit Of Friendly Competition

"I've noticed something here, Sab."

He looks up from the book he's been silently reading, meeting the amused eyes of his Captain, and tilts his head in curiosity. "Noticed what?"

"You spend a lot of your free time at my side."

He sits up from his reclined position. "Is that…Is that a problem, sir?"

The Captain sits up next to him, pointing his finger at him threateningly, and the younger Power scoots away from him with a soft giggle. "One of these days you're really going to get it."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He drops his book, holding his hands up in case he tried to make in an attack, a smile started to spread over his features at the mere thought of it. "It won't happen again!"

"See that it doesn't." The elder wags his finger at him. "Or you're going to get it."

"No," the Captain settles back in his reclined position. "I don't mind having you at my side." He shakes his head. "No, what I meant was, you spend a lot of your free time by _my _side." He looks over at him curiously. "But I never see you spend any time with the others."

"Well," the young elect shrugs. "I don't know the others."

"You don't know the others?" The elder Power sits up again. "Have you even met Abe? He's the one who told me about you."

Sablo shakes his head. "I only ever met him when he came to watch me that one day."

Nisroc sits up straighter, looking down at him with raised eyebrows. "You mean to tell me that he chose you and never took the time to introduce himself?"

He shrugs.

"Well that's no good." He stands, reaching down to lift the smaller Power up by the scruff of his tunic. "Lets go get you introduced. He'd love to meet you. He's just had his hands full."

The younger Power stumbles forward as the taller Power pulls him, leading him through the lounge to the hall where their bedrooms were, Abraxos' room was at the end of the hall, closest to the Lounge on the outside, and across from his was Abraxas, then there was Puriel, and Titus, then his room, and across from his was Nisroc's.

His Captain knocked on the door standing ajar, pushing it open as he leaned against the doorframe, there was a body sitting at the desk that turned to greet them. He smiles kindly and stood, tossing one of the files he'd been working on to the side, standing from his chair to meet them in the doorway.

"Hey Nis, hey Sablo, what can I do for you?"

"You—You know my name?"

Abraxos raises an eyebrow as he turns to the young angel he'd elected. "Of course, I know your name. I couldn't very well have told Nis that I had picked the _'one angel over there with the short dark hair and bright blue eyes' _that describes at least half the men out there." He nods lightly. "So, yes, I know your name."

"Wh—Why did you pick me?"

The other Power shrugs. "I liked what I saw."

"You liked what you saw then." Sablo starts when Nisroc comes to stand behind him, his large fingers curling around his thin wrists, raising his arms up above his head. "Give his sides a few pokes. You'll like what you see now."

"His sides, hmm?" Abraxos closes the space between them. "That's good to know." Sablo watches him with wide eyes as he makes a show of raising one finger and poking him in the side, he jolts to the side and both older Powers chuckle at his reaction. "You're right, Nis, I do like what I see now."

Their Captain smiles slightly. "How about a bit of friendly competition."

He smiles, poking the young elect in the side again, chuckling softly when he squeaks. "I'm down for a bit of friendly competition."

"I can make him squeal in sixty seconds, lets see you best that."

Abraxos laughs softly. "Oh, I'll bet you I can manage it in half that time."


	61. A Day For Lessons

He knocks his knuckle against the door softly and peers inside, smiling at the mound under the blankets, stepping into the room quietly, kneeling before the bed lightly. "Aba?" He resists the urge to reach out and touch the mound. "Are you awake, sweetheart?"

The mound shifts slightly, a hand creeping out from under the soft quilt over her bed, fingers crawling over the mattress towards him. "Mmm."

"Can I touch you, baby girl?"

The hand reaches out for him and he takes that as his permission, curling his fingers under that little palm, he raises it to press his lips to the back of her hand. "Are you sleepy?" He looks over to the night stand next to her bed, eyeing the number of empty vials on the stand, from the looks of things she had taken one just recently. He turned back to her, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb, tilting his head with a sigh. "Was today a bad day, sweetheart?"

Her fingers curl around his palm and he takes that as his sign that it was indeed a bad day.

"Oh, baby girl." He kisses the back of her hand again. "Do you want to come with Puri while he leads his squad through their lessons?"

Her fingers tighten around his palm, and he takes that as her confirmation, and he kisses her hand again. "Can you come out from under the quilt?"

The mound shifts lightly, the hand becomes an arm, and the arm a shoulder. She crawls out from under her quilt and he watches her silently, waiting for her to do as he thinks she's going to, and she raises her hands for him to pick her up and he does just that. He curls his fingers under her arms and stands, hefting her up with him, settling her on his hip, an arm curled under her bottom. She curls her legs around his waist lightly, ankles only just crossed, arms looped around his neck lightly.

Puriel curls his baby sister's quilt around her shoulders, brushes a hand down the side of her head, and turns them towards the door. The others are all off doing their own thing, their own duties, and technically speaking it was his squadron's off day, but after quite a few brawls, it was in his opinion that they did not deserve their day off and thus he assigned them a day of lessons.

Abraxas had been left on her own, having taken her sleeping drought that morning and once more after midday rest, she would sleep through most of the day, or at least, until they all returned from their duties. But he had figured, if it was something as simple as lessons, he'd bring her with him.

He carried her out of her room, down the hall towards the lounge, and down the stairs towards the training fields.

"We've got to get some things from the Infirmary first, alright?" She nods, it's a small nod, the smallest of things, but it brings a smile to his face anyway.

Zed's at his workstation when they arrive, his little apprentice ducking under his arms for the ingredients on his other side, they wind around each other with a practiced sort of ease.

Ephraim and Oren are tending to patients at the other end of the Infirmary floor.

Constantine is folding tunics and trousers with Zaves.

Akriel's wrestling for something in Gzel's hands, he recognizes her immediately, she spends a lot of time with them on the training field. Nisroc has been teaching her some new hand to hand motions.

"Hi Puri." He looks to his right at the sudden greeting. Orion smiles up at him, they talk sometimes, she's a quiet girl, but they have good conversations when they're able to. "Hey Ori."

"Did you need your supplies refilled?"

He nods over his charge's shoulder. "I do."

"Okay." She steps up passed him. "I'll get it for you. Does Aba need refills?"

"She does."

"Okay."

The medic watches her go, Akriel is making his way over to them, wiping his hands on his vest. "How's she doing?"

Puriel rubs a hand over his baby sisters back and Abraxas mumbles softly, nuzzling into his shoulder gently, settling back down in the next moment. "Today wasn't a good day."

"Did she take her tonic?"

He nods. "Just after midday. She's been sleeping in her room since last night, Abe had to leave to see to the guards with Titus, I thought I'd get her out for a while."

"Good." The specialist nods, looking her over, gently pulling her bandaged hand down to examine it and tighten the knot keeping it in place. "She'll have quite a few bad days for a bit, but you're all doing a great job, just make sure to keep her with you."

"She's a light weight." He nods down to his sleeping sweetheart. "We carry her around with us normally now."

Orion returns, coming to stand next to Akriel, and holds out a satchel for him. "Here you go."

"Thanks, Ori."

She nods silently, looking up at her guardian inquisitively. "Did I finish my chores?"

Akriel nods, stroking a hand down the back of her head. "You finished your chores." He nodded over her shoulder. "You can go." He peered over his shoulder at his other charge. "And, take your sister with you, she's getting too mischievous at the moment, she needs to work off some energy."

"I do not."

They turn to her as she approaches. Akriel smiles and pats her cheek. "You are too."

Gzel sticks her tongue out at her, allowing Orion to take grasp of her sleeve, and tug her away from them to meet Araton at the apothecary's station.

Puriel kisses the side of Aba's head. "We'll take our leave, too." He reaches out with his free hand to squeeze the Virtues arm tightly. "Thank you, again, Ak."

"Any time," he pats the Power's hand lightly. "Buttercup means a lot to us." Abraxas reaches out for him, and he catches her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. "You take it easy, alright."

"Pu'i 's com'y."

"Puri's comfy?"

"Mmmhmm."

Both Power and Virtue share a chuckle. "I'm glad to hear it."

Akriel smiles at her, looking back up at the Power. "So what are you two up to today?"

"Well," he holds up the satchel. "We had to get some refills on our supplies." And rubs at his little girl's back again. "We're going to give some lessons today."

…

"Sir, why are you carrying a girl?"

"Because she's sleeping stupid."

"Donavon, don't call people stupid."

"Sorry, because she's sleeping, idiot."

"That is not what I meant, and you know it."


	62. You Have To Say It

"So, tell me about yourself, young Sab."

They have their young elect sitting between them, squirming and giggling as they poke at his sides playfully, lounging back on the cushioned lounger. Sablo squirms, from side to side, trying to get away from their assaulting fingers and never quite succeeding, giggling like a small fledgling between two mighty Powers was not how he had envisioned himself when he thought of gaining the position of Power elect.

They're incredibly playful and he appreciates that part of them, that they aren't just simple warriors, hardened and harsh, like the rumors spoke of them.

"You're too giggly to speak aren't you." Even as he says it, Abraxos pokes him in the side, smiling as he squirms away from him, into his Captain on the other side, and he pokes the young elect in the side as well, the whole process repeating itself. "How old are you, you giggly little elect?"

"Tw—Twenty ohone."

"You're just a youngin', aren't you?"

"IhI'm nehehearly grohown."

He chuckles lightly, poking him in the side, encouraging him to bounce over to his Captain again. "Sure, _'nearly' _being the keyword in that statement." Nisroc gets him to jump back over to his side. "Why, you're just a year older then Aba is. Our _official _youngest is Hasmal, and he's at twenty six."

"He's just a baby."

"IhIhI ahaham nohot!"

"You are if I say you are." His Captain wiggles his fingers into his side as if to prove his point and the boy shrieks as he jumps back towards the other Power on his right side. "You're going to say it too."

"Wihihill nohohot!"

"Yes, you will." Abraxos chuckles softly, sparing a glance with his Captain over the young elect, Nisroc nods lightly and he smiles as he poises himself for the firmer assault. "You'll say it."

"Mahake mehehe."

Nisroc leans up on his right arm. "We were hoping you'd say that." He shrieks, when their fingers dig in, five on each side, and he squirms harder, trying as hard as he might to escape from between them, but they have him well and thoroughly trapped. He shoves against them, trying as hard as he might to push them away, but their immoveable mountains. "We're not stopping until you say it."

"Plehehehease! Plehehehease!"

Nisroc had been showing him what it was like to have a caring older brother, after the three he had grown up with, showing him what it was like to have someone he could rely on when he needed. Nisroc let him borrow his books when ever he pleased to, so long as he returned them in the same condition he took them in, he let him vent to him, when training became too harsh or too overwhelming, when he caught the glares from the others in his old squadron, he let him come to his room or his office and just complain and rant on and on and on and he never got angry or annoyed or told him to leave.

He hadn't thought about what the others may be like.

Abraxos was quiet, he wasn't an easy book to read, but he'd been nothing but kind since he'd met him. He was just as playful as Nisroc was, like an older brother should be, and he let him borrow his books as well, with the same stipulation.

"While we're proud that you said _'please',"_ Abraxos spiders his fingers up his side and he squirms, kicking out softly, trying to push himself up. "That's not what we want to hear."

"IhIhIhI—IhIhIhI—"

"Awe, listen to him, he's giggling too hard to say much of anything."

"Giggling?" His Captain shakes his head. "No, this is the sound of sweet, unfiltered, boisterous laughter."

They share an amused smile, it's a fond smile they share, when they find a particularly sensitive spot near the top, just under his underarm, above his highest rib, and he throws his head back with uproarious laughter.

"Well look at that," Abraxos lifts his arm slightly. "We found ourselves a spot of gold."

"We could just stay here all day, the others are down on the field training, Aba's helping Titus with his squadron." Nisroc lifts his arm in the same manner, smiling down at him mischievously. "Would you like that, Sab, if we did this _all _day?"

"NOhohoho!"

"You've got to say it then."

Sablo shakes his head frantically, tugging at his arms, but their grip is unbreakable. "IhIhIhI—IhIhIhI….IhIhI'm thehehehe….IhIhIhI'm theheheheh bahahahaby! IhIhI—Thehehehe bahahahaby! IhIhIhI bahahaby!"

"Awe, he said it, does that mean we have to stop now?"

"Well, maybe after another minute, he's just too precious like this." Nisroc slips a finger under his arm and he shrieks in laughter. "But we should be angels of our word."

"Do we have to though?"

"A relationship is built upon trust, Abe, we do."

They enjoyed their minute down to the very last second. But as promised, their minute passed, and they pulled away. Abraxos smiled in amusement to the mess they'd made of their little elect, leaning back against the pillows behind him, satisfied in a job well done. Nisroc drapes his arm down the backrest, rubbing his fingers through the little elect's dark curls, he's still giggling breathlessly, with his arms curled around himself as if to stave off any sneak attack. "You most certainly are the baby."

"And you're the big brothers?"

"Two of six." He smiles down at the young man. "But, yes, we're the big brothers."

"Better than my other ones."

Abraxos looks down at him from his right. "You had other big brothers?"

To his left, his Captain huffs hotly, shaking his head. "They _weren't_ big brothers."

"Not good?"

He shakes his head again. "Not good."

"Oh, well, that's no fun." The other Power ruffles his curls lightly. "We're good big brothers to have. We'll treat you right."

"Why doho you always tehease me?"

"Because you're cute when you get all giggly."


	63. Betrayal Of The Heart

"What's the matter?" The quiet little healer looks up from the file she's been reading through, for the passed twenty minutes, into the eyes of her concerned guardian. He smiles down at her, cradling her cheeks in his hands, rubbing his thumbs gently over her cheek bones. "What's wrong?"

She shakes her head, averting her eyes, if she's not looking into his eye's she won't feel guilty about lying straight to his face. "Nothing's wrong."

"Right," he nods softly. "And, I don't know you like I know the back of my hand." He tilts her head back just a bit more so that their eyes meet again. "Please don't lie to me, I don't like it and I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong, so let's try again?"

"I'm sorry." She blinks softly. "I know you don't like it."

"It's okay, I forgive you, now, tell me what's the matter so I can make it better."

Her face heats up with shame and she pulls her head from his hands. "I can't read all the words."

"You can't read all the words?"

She passes the file over to him, pressing it to his chest, and he reaches up to take it from her at her silent request. Orion shakes her head, looking down at her hands in shame, reaching up gently to rub away a tear as it escapes in her silent shame. She just couldn't remember them, remember how, it was lost to her. She could remember even the smallest of obscure facts but she couldn't remember how to read some words, no matter how hard she tried to sound it out in her head, it was a struggle beyond all struggles.

"I don't know them."

"Well," he reaches out to rub her cheek softly. "That's nothing to worry over. We'll work on it."

She takes his hand tightly, and he raises it to press his lips to the back of her hand. "Please don't tell anyone. Please. It's so embarrassing."

"I take confidentiality very seriously." He smiles down at her gently. "Your secret is safe with me."

His quiet little healer surges forward to hug him, and he huffs at the sudden impact, chuckling softly as he hugs her in return.

…

Inca elbows her in the side softly, having finished reading through her files, preparing to tell her what they said and what needs to be done, when he spots the Virtues enter the Archangel's office and crack the door behind them. Orion turns at his request, rubbing the spot his elbow had made impact, and takes her files back, holding them and the pitcher of water with a practiced sort of ease.

"What did they say?"

He shakes his head, pointing out the Archangel's office, looking up at her with curious eyes. _'What are they saying?'_

"I don't know." She shrugs, though her interest is peaked now. "We're too far away."

_'We shouldn't listen in, anyway.'_

"Right." She turns to stare at the door though, it's like it's calling her name, she has to know what's being discussed in there. "But if they don't know we are, it can't hurt, can it?"

Inca shrugs. _'I wouldn't think so.'_

She smiles over at him, nodding in agreement, and they both silently cross the threshold of the Infirmary floor. They both hold a finger up to their lips as they lean close to the door to listen in on the conversation, its that time of the month where the Virtues get together with their Archangel to discuss the patients under their care and the charges under their teaching, and it's a particularly private conversation that they have too.

If they were caught eavesdropping it would mean much trouble for them.

_"Araton is working hard. She's coming along greatly. We've managed at least thirty pages in her new journal. With a few mishaps of course."_

_"Of course, she is much like you were when you were younger, how much longer is she grounded?"_

_"Two more days. Honestly, it's been more of a punishment for me, she's going stir crazy."_

"That's Zed."

Inca nods in acknowledgement.

_"Inca is coming along splendidly, his vocal cords were severed but they've healed, though they've healed incorrectly. We're managing small words, some sounds, you should hear him giggle."_

Orion elbows her friend in the side, he's blushing a deep amber in embarrassment, elbowing her back.

_"Gzel coming alone. She's been using her words more then ever. Nisroc has her coming to work with him every Tuesday and Thursday."_

_"And Orion?"_

_"Well, we're still working on a few things." _

She tightens her grip on the pitcher, leaning closer to the crack in the doorway, trying to catch every word he says about her.

_"She has trouble reading the files, she doesn't understand how to read some of the words, the knowledge has been taken from her by my evil sister. We're working on learning the words again-"_

She drops the pitcher, her hands go limp, Inca jumps back from the wave of water splashing over the floor, the ceramic pitcher shattering on impact. His friend turns, before he can stop her, and runs down the hall. He doesn't take the time to think on the conversation stopping silent at the loud crack of the pitcher hitting the stone floor underfoot, as he jumps around, watching his best friend run up the stairs at the end of the hall.

"Inca?" A hand curls over his shoulder and he's turned to face his guardian. Oren looks displeased, his eyebrows scrunched together, his fingers curled firmly around his shoulder. "Were you listening in?"

He bows his head in shame, nodding silently. _'Yes, sir. I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have.'_

"No, you shouldn't." Oren squeezes his shoulder firmly. "We'll talk about this later."

Ephraim kneels, picking up the broken pieces of the pitcher from the puddle on the floor. "Inca, who was with you?"

_'Orion.' _He looks down the hall to the empty stairs. _'She was real upset.'_

Akriel takes his other shoulder. "Orion was here?" He frowns when the boy nods, squeezing his shoulder, he steps around him and jogs down the hall for the stairs that lead up to the loft above. Constantine watches him go from his position leaning against the doorframe. "Something tells me brother told us something he wasn't supposed to."

…

He jogs up the stairs two at a time, following the damp foot prints on the stone through their lounge and to the back hall that leads to their bedrooms, she has no where to retreat but there, and he knows exactly where he'll find her.

She's stuffing things in a satchel when he turns the corner into their room.

"Rio," his eyebrows scrunch in confusion when he sees what she's doing. "Rio, what are you doing?"

"I'm moving back to the dorms."

"Rio, no, this is your home."

"This _was _my home." She turns when he comes closer, shoving him harshly in the chest, and he catches her hands. "What happened to '_I take confidentiality very seriously' _huh?" She yanks on her hands, trying to pull them from his grasp. "How many other secrets have you told, huh, do you blabber everything to them?"

The specialist tightens his grip on her hands. "Rio, I was just trying to help."

"Let _go! _You're _not _stopping me!" She yanks on her hands again. "I don't _want _your help!"

"Rio, _Rio, _I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told." He tugs on her hands this time. "Please don't go."

"You know, at least I know I can't trust _them_." This time, when Orion yanks on her hands, his grip releases and she stumbles back. "But you, _you, _I thought I could."

"And you can, Rio, you _can. _I made a mistake! I was _wrong_!"

"You _betrayed _me!" She turns away from him. "I _trusted _you!"

The quiet little healer, feeling betrayed and angry, grabs her satchel and curls the strap over her shoulder.

He blocks her path. "Rio, Rio, please. Give me another chance. I was just trying to help you."

"I—I don't know." She wipes a tear away angrily. "You really hurt me."

"I know." He reaches forward to rub her arm and she steps away from him. "I know I did. And I'm so sorry." This time he doesn't try. "Please don't go. Please. If not for me, then for Gzel, you're her best friend. It would destroy her to see you were gone."

She sniffles softly, and he resists the urge to pull her into his arms, she'd only step away again. "I don't want to hurt her feelings."

"Then stay, for her, she needs you."

He felt bad, guilting her into staying with him by using her friendship with her sister, but he was sure she wouldn't have stayed for him alone. Not now. Not until he could fix what he broke.

She drops her satchel. "I'll stay for her." Turning to put her things away again. "But, not for you."


	64. The Usefulness Of Water

**AN: I needed some fluff after that last chapter!**

"Isn't he supposed to be doing his paperwork?"

The two girls stand behind him, watching the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders as he slumbers away peacefully, bent forward over his desk, over the paperwork he was meant to be completing. He had put it off until he couldn't put it off any longer, thus leaving him with a large mountain of files and papers to sift through and complete.

Gzel elbows her in the arm lightly, tapping her pitcher of water with her index finger, smiling that mischievous smile that often times gets _her _under the torturous revenge of their guardian's skillful fingers. "I dare you to pour your pitcher of water on him."

"No way!" She shakes her head. "Last time I did that he said he'd go for my belly."

"Oooh, yea, he's rather good at that."

Orion nods slightly. "And you always manage to get away, leaving me stuck to take the brunt of it."

"You're right." She rubs her chin thoughtfully. "I _double _dare you."

She curses her sister softly, definitely not loud enough to allow the others to hear and scold her for it, knowing that she can't back down from the challenge of a _double dare_. Orion tightens her grip on her Pitcher, not seeing the eyes that follow her as she steps forward, lifts the pitcher up over his head, and slowly tips it over. The water starts out slowly, dripping over the lip, and then it splashes harder.

Akriel jumps up, hitting his knee on the desk, his hair dripping in his face with the water from the pitcher. He wipes at his eyes, the healers around them laughing at the poor soaked Virtue, Gzel is cracking up behind them, bending at the waist in her laughter, as Orion calmly sets the pitcher down on the specialists desk.

He looks up at her with wide eyes. She smiles at him. "You fell asleep doing your paperwork, again."

"And, I don't know," he stands slowly. "You couldn't have just, oh, I don't know, just shaken my shoulder or something."

"I wasn't sure if that would work."

He narrows his eyes at her, and she takes a minute step back from him. "You're right. I should get back to work."

"You should?"

He nods, stalking forward carefully, brushing wet hair back out of his eyes. "You know what I'm going to work on?"

His quiet little healer shakes her head as she steps back another step, but he closes the distance between them with long strides, catching her by the wrist as she makes to turn. "I'm going to work on that little belly of yours."

"No!"

"Ooooh, yes." He tugs on her arm, she stumbles forward, falling over his shoulder. "I'm going to work _very _hard."

Orion giggles from over his shoulder from anticipation, as though she can feel his beard rubbing against her bare belly, lips pressing playful kisses over every inch, fingers spidering all over the sensitive tummy surface.

"Would it help if I said I was sorry?"

"I appreciate the apology." He squeezes her hip lightly and she shrieks softly. "But, no, it would not help you in anyway."

He nods at his Captain and Archangel as he walks passed them, slowly ascending the stairs to the Loft above them, slowly making his way through the Lounge, down the hall towards their room. He kicks the door closed behind him, out of his boots, and leans forward to pull her from over her shoulder.

Orion flails as she falls back, bouncing on the mattress under her, giggling as her guardian slowly crawls up over her on the bed, laying himself over her legs, he curls his fingers in the hem of her tunic. "Let's get this out of our way."

"AhAhAhAhAk nohohoho!"

He pushes her tunic up to reveal her shaking, giggle filled, tummy. "Where do I want to start?" She struggles under him, trying to free herself, and he smiles down at her belly. "Found it." And buries his face in her belly.

The little healer squeals brightly. It's the first of many squeals.

"AhahahahahAhahahah! AhAHAHAHK NOhohoho!" She pushes against his head as hard as she can, squealing again when he shakes his head, rubbing his beard against her belly. "I warned you, didn't I, I warned you."

"Yohohhour sohohoho colohohohd!"

"Who's fault is that?"

"Yohohohhu shohohouldn't hahahahhaave fahahahallen asleheheheheep!"

"You know, I'm not working hard enough if you're able to be cheeky."

Orion curls her fingers in his dirty blonde hair. "NOhohoho! Nohohot thahahahat!"

He chuckles. Takes a deep breath. And blows the first raspberry.


	65. Making It Right

"Rio, why aren't you talking to Ak anymore?" Gzel finishes her own note on the files margin and passes it to Inca, who takes the file happily and reads her note to him and respond, looking up at her sister with curiosity. "It's awkward as heck in there." She sits next to her on the bed she'd just finished making. "It's not home anymore."

Orion sighs, folding her hands in her lap, looking down at her fingers. "Because, he told my secret."

"He told your secret?"

She nods. "I trusted him. I can't..I can't read all the words in the files…He said he'd keep it a secret but he told them."

"That's crappy." Gzel nudges her with her elbow softly. "He would have only done it if he thought he was helping you."

"That's what he says too." The little healer takes the file from Inca as he finishes his reply and passes the file back, before turning to begin making up the beds on the other side. "But, it hurts, he promised not to tell."

"I understand. He told one of my secrets once." Orion looks up at her sister, and Gzel nods, tucking her hair behind her ear softly. "I punched one of the trainees once while Nis's back was turned and said that his partner had done it. I told Ak and made him promise not to tell, but he told Nis, Nis was upset but he let me explain."

"What did you do when you found out?"

"I didn't talk to him for a week."

She looks up at the taller girl, and she nods again, picking the lint off her tunic. "But, after I thought about it, I realized he was really just trying to help."

"But it's so embarrassing, G."

"You think I wasn't embarrassed?" Gzel elbows her again softly. "Nis _scolded_ me in front of _everyone_." She looks down to her lap for a moment. "He really only did it with your best interest in mind. Not to be a jerk." The unofficial warrior spied their guardian across the way, tending to a gash on someone's leg, making the sutures nice and tight along the length of the wound. "He's eating himself up about it, he knows he was wrong, but he _was_ really just trying to help."

Orion follows her gaze, watching their guardian focus on his suturing, not noticing the two girls watching him. "But what if he does it again?"

"He doesn't do it to be a jerk, Rio, he does it to help you." Gzel scratches at her head softly. "There's so many secrets I've told him that he's never told _anyone_. I'm sure it's the same for you too."

She nods, it is true, there's so much that she's told him that he's never told another soul. And, she misses him, he's one of her best friends. She misses playing with him and goofing around with him. She misses curling up against his side as he reads from one of his books, the feeling of his fingers scratching at her scalp lightly or stroking through her hair, him rubbing her shoulder's and massaging her fingers. She misses him. She misses him curling her in his arms and hiding her from the rest of the world, coming up behind her and pulling her back against his chest, them swaying side to side during the slow times and joking around while he begrudgingly does his paperwork.

"I miss him, G."

"He misses you too, girl." Her sister leans into her a moment and moves back again. "I know you're mad, and you have the right to be, but it was really only to help you."

Orion watches him carefully, as he cuts the line and knots it tight, ensuring that the stitching doesn't come undone, and reaches for the bandages. Gzel pushes her arm lightly. "Go talk to him, you know you want to."

The quiet little healer nods, standing from the side of the bed, ignoring her sisters snort of amusement at her willingness, and steps out from around the bed to cross over to his side.

"Don't put too much pressure on that leg, Lionel, we wouldn't want the stitches to pop."

She curls her fingers in the cuff of her sleeve. "Ak?"

He looks up from the leg, eyes wide at the call of his name from her tone of voice, smiling his natural smile of greeting up at her. "Yes?"

She shifts nervously. "Can I talk to you?"

The mental specialist nods quickly, standing back to his feet again, groaning at the soreness of his back from being hunched over in such a position for so long. He wipes his hands on a clean cloth, passing the wounded guard a vial of pain relief and muscle relaxer, Lionel nods in appreciation and slowly rises from the bed to stumble back to his barrack.

Akriel turns to her at moment later, raising a hand as though to curl his fingers around the side of her shoulder, but refrains from doing so lest he make her back up a step. Orion steps forward a step, pressing her shoulder against his outstretched fingers, feeling a sense of relief when they curl around her shoulder comfortingly. "Let's take the office for privacy."

She nods, letting him guide her forward, his fingers never loosening their grasp on her shoulder, as they pass beds and patients for the Archangel's office and the privacy it offers. Raphael nods at them as they pass, the Virtue nodding towards his office, and turns back to the file he'd been reading , little Joshua perched on his knee playing with his stuffed bear.

The mental specialist closes the door behind him, turning to face his charge, he hadn't spoken with her in nearly a month.

"Ak, I—"

"I'm sorry."

She stares at him.

"I'm so sorry, Rio, I was trying to help you." He looks down for a moment. "I know I shouldn't have told anyone what you told me in confidence."

"You really hurt me." She takes a small step towards him. "I trusted you."

"I know you did." He rubs at his forehead softly. "I betrayed you, Rio, and there's nothing more I can say then I'm sorry, if there was I'd say it. I was really just trying to help you."

"Promise you won't do it again."

"I swear." He nods, but quickly amends. "Depending on what the secret is." He shakes his head firmly. "If it means you harm then I'll have to act on it."

She nods, she expected just as much, looking down to her feet a moment. She misses him. It's hard being mad at someone you love so much. Orion sniffs softly, rubbing at her cheek, she's never been good at staying mad at people.

Akriel blinks in surprise when she surges forward, a small body ramming into him, pressing close to his chest. Her soft dark hair, done up in a braid, brushes against his chin. He looks down at her, her cheek smooshed up against his chest, hugging herself to him as tightly as she can manage. He smiles gently down at her, circling his arms around her tightly, just like she likes, and leans forward to rest his chin on her head.

His arms circle around her, he folds around her, hiding her from the world, warm and strong and gentle.

She missed his hugs.

"I missed you, Ak."

He hugs her closer for a moment, tightening his hold gently. "I missed you too."

"I missed your hugs."

"I missed giving you my hugs."

"Can you read to me tonight?"

"I'll read to you _every _night."


	66. Rescheduled Appointments

He presses a finger to his lips in the universal sign to keep quiet, and the Gardener returns the gesture, chuckling softly as he turns back to his work. He steps along the path quietly, as to not disturb the little ones in the mischief they are making, having come to seek them out after they missed their scheduled appointment for their checkups. It's a common game they play, they don't usually come to their appointed appointments, leaving him the task of hunting them down where ever they may be.

It's no trying task. The two of them are little fruit thieves. More then not, they can usually be found in the Garden, hiding under the Gardener's quiet care, away from those who mean to make them go to their appointed appointments. It's not a task that angers him, he enjoys these days, the both of them are delightful, quite an adorable set of twins.

They manage their way out of trouble quite easily.

Their giggling gives them away, as it usually does, as he creeps up behind them. He bends to snatch up from the ground about the waist and straightens up to catch the little partner in crime about the waist right off the trunk of the tree.

"Hello, little ones."

"You found us!"

He chuckles, bouncing the little one on his left arm. "I find you _every _time."

"Rapha I can't reach it!"

The boy on the right points up at the apple hanging above them. One of the few who can eat from the Tree of Life and not perish, a fitting treat seeing as he was created to guard the thing, he was always climbing between the limbs for the beloved tasty treat.

"Only good little angels get tasty treats, are you a good little angel, Eli?"

Little Elijah leans up to kiss his cheek sweetly. "I'm a very good little angel, Rapha."

"Are you, little Elijah? He bounces him on his right arm, and he giggles brightly. He turns to the other one. "How about you, Ezekiel, are you a good little angel?"

Little Ezekiel leans up to kiss is cheek too. "I'm a very good little angel too, Rapha."

"Are you now?" He turns them around, away from the tree, heading them back down the path. "Do you know what good little angels do?"

Elijah reaches up and around to poke his cheek, giggling happily. "They eat tasty apples."

"No." He shakes his head, smiling at the Gardener as they pass him on their way out. "They come to their appointments like the good little angels they are."

They walk down the Axis together, the little fledglings waving at every that passes them, the others wave in return, chattering excitedly between each other as two good little brothers do.

"We like keeping you in shape, Rapha."

Elijah giggles at his brothers statement, and the Healer makes a show of it, mouth hanging ajar, eyes wide, he comes to a halt as he looks down at the giggling fledgling. Ezekiel giggles up at him, a little finger reaching up to poke him in the cheek.

"Are you trying to say I'm unfit?"

"Nooo!" He shrieks when he dugs his fingers into his waist, squirming in his hold. "We keep you fit!"

"It's like playing hide and seek!"

He chuckles, bouncing them both, and they shriek with excitement. "You two are lucky I'm so fond of you."

The archangel chased the fingers that tapped against his lips, pressing a kiss to them after a moment, glancing down at the playful fledgling.

"Yes, little Eli?"

"No ouchies?"

He shakes his head. "No ouchies. Just a regular look over."

"Then apples?"

The Healer chuckles, taking the first step up to his Infirmary. "Yes, and then you can have your apples."

Both fledglings cheered excitedly, causing the ones around them to turn and look, Oren turns with them at their cheering, smiling in greeting. "There you two are, we've been looking everywhere for you."

"Ori!" They both chime together, reaching out for the Captain of the Virtues, he chuckles softly and reaches out in return. Little Ezekiel pokes him on the nose as his little partner in crime leans back against his arm. "What you doin here, Ori?"

"Who do you think was going to help with your checkups?"

The Virtue carries them over to an empty bed, setting them on their feet, he steps back and crosses his arms. "Alright you two, we're going to do this and do this right, you hear me?"

Both boys giggle, playfully saluting him. "Yes, sir!"

Raphael chuckles at the pair of them, stepping up next to his Captain, crossing his arms loosely. "You take one and I'll take the other?"

He nods. "That sounds like the perfect plan." The Virtue points at the two of them. "Which one do I want?"

They both raise their hands because they're just so cheeky.

"No, no, I can only take one of you."

Little Ezekiel raised his hand higher. "Me!"

"I'll take you!"

"Okay." Despite him saying he was only taking one of the, he clapped his hands to both, and they stood at attention. "Show me your muscles." He raised his arms, flexing in the manner he wished for them to, and they mimicked him.

Raphael chuckled as his Captain leaned forward, giving each little muscle a playful squeeze, a playful mock of surprise crossing his features. "You guys are strong, aren't you?"

"We're tough!"

"Like the Powers!"

"Alright, let's check those reflexes." The Healer stepped up beside the Virtue. "Show me your bellies."

Both fledglings lifted their little maroon tunics and he reached forward swiftly to wiggle his fingers over their little bellies. They giggle brightly, falling back on the bed, tugging their tunics back down again to halt any further attacks.

It worked, if only for the moment.

Oren held up his hand. "Let's check those eyes, how many fingers?"

"Five!"

"A hundred!"

He kneels before Ezekiel. "Did you just say I have one hundred fingers, Zeke?" The fledgling giggles, nodding in affirmation, squealing brightly when he digs his fingers into his belly. "I had _five, _mister."

The Healer shakes his head in amusement as he stands back up, crossing his arms lightly. "All done."

"Done?"

"No more?"

Both little fledgling hop off the bed, one coming to hug the Virtue around the waist, and the other the Archangel, both looking up at them with the most practiced expression of puppy eyes they've ever laid witness to.

"Apples now?"

"Yes, we can get apples now."


	67. Rekindling Old Relationships

"It's all my fault." He buried his face in his hands, the revelation of what had transpired after his youngest charge's unnecessary banishment weighing heavily on his shoulders. "I allowed that to happen."

"I won't lie to you brother, I never have, and I never will, there is much blame on your shoulders."

The Viceroy looks up at his younger brother. "Is she okay?"

"That's a ridiculous question." He leans against his older brother's desk. "Of course, she's not okay. Just last week she suffered a mental break. Akriel is working with her now, with the help of her brothers, they talk every day. I won't lie to you, the things she's told him are heinous, if I could I'd find those beasts myself and enjoy the suffering I would inflict over them."

He knew that it must be bad to warrant the gentle, understanding Healers wrath, and he buried his face in his hands once more. "I wondered why they've all been ignoring me, rather blatantly so, for the last week." He lifts his head slightly, hands covering the lower half of his face still, nodding softly. "I understand now."

Raphael pushes away from the desk when Michael stands from the chair behind it. "I have to see her."

"I'd say that's at your own risk. She spends most of her time with Abraxos at her side. I do believe there might be some hostility." He points a finger at the older archangel. "She is having a good day, today. Do _not _turn it into a bad one."

…

She was with Abraxos. As he had expected her to be. Curled up on one of the loungers in the Lounge, pressed against his side, her head resting in his lap. He was reclining back, leaning against the large pillows behind him, legs out stretched and crossed at the ankle, reading a book out loud to the both of them as he stroked the fingers of his free hand through her short blonde locks.

He approached them cautiously, out of all her brothers, he expected Abraxos to be the most hostile. He'd always been closest to her, taking on a role of older brother from their very first meeting, he cared for her just as much as he, himself, cared for her. It had been to him that she had taken her first steps. Her first word being _A'e_. Him who got her to bed when she got really fussy at night. There had been numerous occasions he had come to find her, both of them fast asleep, and the little hatchling curled up comfortably on top of him, and one of his arms curled around her protectively. They had always been as close as close could be.

Abraxos was the first one to notice his arrival, his little companions eyes were closed, and his reading aloud came to an abrupt halt.

"Abe, why'd you stop….?"

"What are you doing here?" Her eyes opened at his tone of voice, and she visibly stiffened at the mere sight of him, it broke his heart. "We aren't taking visitors at the moment, thank you."

Michael stepped forward, stopping at the way she ducked back into her older brothers lap, her head pressing to his lower stomach. "I…I had to see you, Aba."

"I told you not to call me that." She glares up at him from her brothers lap, her glare as heated as ever, his little spitfire. "Only my family get to call me that." She spits at him. "And you, _you _are not my family."

"Please, Aba..Abraxas…" He kneels, his knees popping at the action, joints stiff after as many battles as he's fought in, and still fights in. "There is no excuse for what I did to you. I was not in my right mind. I wronged you in a way that is unforgiveable."

"This is all _your _fault." She holds her arms out, twisting the bandages one, shaking her bandaged hand. "This is your fault." Her voice cracks and her brother curls his fingers around her forehead. "What _they _did to me is your fault." She shakes her head, rubbing tears away with her free hand, reaching above for her brothers, his fingers curl over hers and she pulls his hand down to curl against her chest. "I _cried_ for you. I _screamed _for you. I _begged _you to come for me. And you didn't, not once, you left me there to suffer. Locked in that small closet. Bound to that bed. Stuck in that _'training' _room. You _left _me there." She presses the back of her brother's hand to her trembling lips. "You _never _came. Did you hear me? Did you hear me calling your name?"

Truth be told, and it his shame to live with for the rest of his life, he had heard her calling him. Their bond would be there forever, like a two way link between two graces, he felt her pain and her terror and her breaking. He had heard her calling for him, begging him to come for her, crying out his name with such fear that it would rock him to his very core for the rest of his eternal life.

"They..They…" Her brother shifts under her, setting his book down next to them, stroking the side of her cheek lightly. "Aba, that's enough." It was worse to relive it, Akriel made her, better to share it, to get it off her chest, then to hold on to it. But it was best to share it in a safe environment, tucked safely away in her room, under her warm blankets, tucked safely in the side of one of her brothers, the mental specialist sitting in a chair on the side of her bed, and they worked through it slowly, taking as many breaks as she needed. The last one to sit with her had been Puriel, he'd locked himself up in his room for days afterwards, a self-quarantine lest he go in search of those men who defiled their baby sister, lest he reign a suffering they've never seen before down on them. He was a Power now, but he was raised as a healer, he knew how to _harm_ just as much as he knew how to heal. He _knew _how to _torture_ people with barely a touch.

He was a gentle soul who could be as fearsome as they come in the next moment. It wasn't a side to him that they say often and for good reason.

She shakes her head, wiping the back of his hand over her eyes, collecting the tears as they slipped out.

"No, Abe…No…He deserves to know what he did." She turns back to their archangel. "They tied me to the bed, two, three of them, and they'd take turns. Laughing when I screamed. Laughing when I cried. Mocking when I'd beg." She inhales a shaky breath. "They'd lock me in that closet for days. No food. No water. Until I was putty in their hands. Willing to do anything for a piece bread, a bowl of broth, a bottle of water." He feels his insides shattering at every word. "Their _'training' _room. Where they did things. Things that I'll never forget. Things that give me nightmares. The pain would linger for weeks. Like there was a hole cut deep in me. They made sure we knew what we were supposed to do." He buries his face in his hands again, falling forward onto his knees, disgusted with himself. This was _his _fault. She would never have had to face that, his innocent little monkey, a nickname given for her constant riding on her brothers shoulders, piggyback rides, climbing them when she was a small fledgling to settle herself on their hip, their shoulders, their backs, their arms. He was the reason his beloved little monkey had suffered so.

"They made me do it for profit. I was worth fifty, one hundred, a few hundred bucks to them. With different men, rich, poor, homeless, it didn't matter. If you could pay you got it."

He's going to kill them, allow his men to have their way with them, see that they suffered the same way they made his little monkey suffer. Nothing would stop him, not even Father, he would rebel if he had to. This was a personal affront on one of his own, when you poke the bull, you get the horns. And in this case, the bull was the oldest Archangel in existence and his elite legion, and the horns being their fury mixed with their knowledge and sprinkled with the power they held in their very finger tips.

"I wanted to die." He looks up at her, his fingers covering the lower half of his face, her eyes are red from the tears gathering in them, her breathing noisy from the stuffy nose, clutching so tight to her brothers hand that her fingers paled in color. "I couldn't escape. I tried. I tried to escape, and they _punished _me. So, I thought the only way out was to die. I begged them all to kill me, they laughed, the others refused, I wanted to _die_, Micha." She wipes her eyes with the back of her brothers hand, pressing it down against her lips for a moment, sucking in a deep shaky breath. Abraxos is still stroking her cheek, glaring at him silently over top of her, daring him to come any closer. "And then, then one day, I wasn't alone in that closet anymore. The door opened, and he stood there, all tall and muscular and fearsome. He knelt and reached out to caress my cheek and I flinched, but I knew him, I knew him, and I started to cry because I knew I was safe again. Nis was there. He was there and he was there for _me_." She chokes on her words softly. "He helped me out of the closet, he pulled me into his arms, lifted me off the dirty floor. He tore the chain from the wall. He melted the cuff off my ankle. I was free. After years and years of being alone and suffering on my own, I was finally free." Her older brother strokes through her hair comfortingly. "Nis was there, and they all stood back, I don't know what he did to them, what he said to them, I didn't care. I held on to him like my life depended on it, like it was all a dream and if I let go again I'd wake up and be locked in that closet again, but he was warm and he was solid and his arms held me up so securely and I _knew_ he was really there. He didn't know what happened there, what they did, but seeing me locked in that closet was enough. He promised to be back. It was the first time I'd seen fear flash in their eyes." Abraxos bends slightly to kiss the side of her forehead.

Abraxas inhales again, a shaky breath, a struggle with her stuffy nose, tears streaming from her eyes.

"He told me we were going home, and I started crying harder and he brought me home. I made the healers promise not to tell anyone after they looked me over, and they agreed, against their better judgement. Confidentiality is something they take very seriously. Nis helped them wash me up, sponging me down in that bed in the Infirmary, and then he brought me home. I was _home_. Abe, Puri, Tus, Hani, Mal, they were all there, they were waiting for me, and when I saw them, I started crying again and I couldn't stop and we all curled up in the Lounge again, like old times, and I just cried. I cried well into the night. Years and years of tears held back. Pain and suffering and terror. It all crashed down at the safety that they gave me again. We slept in the Lounge for days, never moving, only to use the facilities or to get food for us or drink. And then I moved in with Nis for a time, I didn't want to be alone, they all came back when I was alone, so I stayed with Nis. He was my safety. He was my freer. He was the only one I wanted. And, all the while, I _hated _you. For letting me suffer. For causing it. For allowing it to happen. For _ignoring _my cries for help. I _hated _you." She falls silent for a moment. Chest heaving from such a long winded statement on only one breath. "But…But I don't hate you anymore. It makes me too tired. I'm not strong enough to hate you anymore."

Abraxos finally has enough, tapping a finger to her lips, his expression a pained expression. She turns to look up at him, at his silent plea for her attention, and he smiles down at her as he rubs his thumb over her forehead. "No more, duckling, it's upsetting you." Aba nods, brushing the back of his hand against his cheek, smiling as he wipes away the tears with gentle fingers.

"Aba, my little monkey, there are no words I can use in existence to express how remorseful I am."

She sits up, her older brother curling his arm around her waist to pull her into his side, and she leans her head against his shoulder. "Did you hear me? Did you hear me calling to you?" He flinches, harshly, and folds in on himself. She inhales, ducking closer to her older brother, it was the only reaction she needed to make that confirmation. "You did."

Michael nods. "I heard you. I heard every cry. Every plea." He shakes his head miserably. "But I couldn't come."

"Couldn't?" She sniffs softly. "Or, wouldn't?"

"No, no, _couldn't_. I _couldn't _come. My heart said to, but my mind would not allow it. I was torn in two."

"I don't understand what that means?" She looks confused, of course she would not know what transpired while she was exiled, she wouldn't know of the second war, of the Mindbreakers plot, of the attempt at usurping the thrones of Heaven, she was too busy suffering through her own war, and looks up at her older brother for assistance. "Abe, what does that mean?"

He kisses her forehead. "The Mindbreaker. She managed to get into his mind, she poisoned him, and broke his mind. She controlled everything he did. There was a second war because of it, her and her kind tried to usurp the thrones, she was a puppet master."

"She…She _brainwashed _him?"

The Power nods lightly. "She controlled his every thought. Everything he did."

"How…How did you fix him?"

The toned man shrugs nonchalantly. "We poisoned him."

"_What!"_

"I said, we pois—"

"No, I heard you!" She leans away from him to look up at him more fully. "You _poisoned _him?"

"Yep. It worked too. Broke him out of his spell. There was a lot of work to be done."

"If…If you were fixed," she turns back to the archangel. "Why didn't _you _come for me?"

"I was going to, believe me, I was going to." Michael looks down to his hands, still sitting on his knees, he folds his fingers together. "But you had stopped calling to me, instead Nisroc said he heard you call for him. I sent him because I was ashamed, Abraxas, ashamed that I had let you suffer a fate I didn't know. I was too ashamed to face you after what I had done. So, I sent Nisroc." He shakes his head softly. "I was weak."

She tugs at her brothers wrist, and he moves his arm, unwittingly, and she slides away from his side. Crossing the floor, the short distance that is between her and the one who's care she had been put under, they could never be what they were, not anymore, but she still loved him. She stood before him, looking down at him, his face buried in his hands. Slowly, carefully, she kneels before him, reaching out for his hands. Her little fingers curl around his big ones, pulling his hands away, he looks up at her with bright blue eyes, she folds his hands against her chest.

"We can't ever be what we were, Micha, I can't do that again." She exhales softly. "But I miss you, I miss my big, strong protector. I stopped calling you because I thought you were still mad at me, and that's why you never came, I never would have guessed _that _happened." He unfolds his hands, reaching up to caress her cheeks softly, they stare at each other for a long minute. "I missed being called your little monkey. I miss riding on your shoulders and playing games and joking around with you. I miss your hugs. I miss you holding me. I miss _you_."

"I wanted to come for you, I truly did, the mistake I ever did was cast you down." He rubs her cheeks with his thumbs. "I was too angry to see that at the time. And then I was too weak to come get you again. And then…then everything went down."

"I was _so _mad at you, for the longest time, I _hated _you." Aba smiles at him softly. "But it's so hard to hate. It's so tiring. I can't do it anymore."

The archangel smiles at her. "I missed you, my little monkey."

"Promise never to let go, again."

"I'll hold on tight and long and never let go."

She smiles, leaning forward, letting go of his wrists as she folds herself against his chest, her arms winding around him tightly. He looks down at her for a moment, eyes wide in surprise, but he comes to his senses after the moment passes, a smile slowly spreading over his features as he carefully curls his arms around her too.

Michael kisses the top of her head. "I'm so sorry, little monkey, there is nothing I can do to make it up to you. Nothing"

"Will you kill them?"

He shares a look with Abraxos over her head. "With great pleasure." Now typically he's a very passive archangel, looking to protect mankind from the evils in the world, and he'd made the exception. He _was _still protecting mankind in ridding them of those men.

…

"Are you sure you want to come?" Nisroc sounded unsure, his hand pressed to the top of her head, gazing down at her with great concern. Personally, he was against the idea, but she had asked their Archangel and he had granted her request. "You don't have to."

Abraxas nods carefully, part of her was terrified of seeing them all again, being back in that place. But she wasn't going back alone, she was going back surrounded by her family, her big brothers wouldn't let anything happen to her, and Michael was downright terrifying when he was this angry. He was rearing to go dish out some holy retribution. "I'm sure. I'm safe with you guys there. I want to _see_ the life leave their eyes."

"You're just a bit terrifying when your being vindictive."

"Thanks. I learned it from my brothers."

"Point."

Michael raises his hand and they turn to give him their attention. "Are we ready?"

…

She arrives alone, appearing in the middle of their living space, they jump at her sudden being there. Smiling that smile that sends chills running down her spine, she's not alone, her brothers are there, though out of sight, she's not powerless this time, she can feel the warmth of Michael at her left shoulder and the warmth of Nisroc at her right. Abe's right behind her. The others circling around. She's _far _from alone this time.

The other girls gasp at her appearance, clean and well taken care of, her blonde hair done up in a slight bun, her blue eyes piercing. She smiles at them, waving slightly, and they shrink back as their boss saunters forward, that creepy smile she remembers her greeting from the dark past.

"I knew you'd come back, baby doll, can't stay away from papa, can you?"

"I'm not here for you." She lifts her chin defiantly, and his jaw sets, he's not used to females asserting their power over him. "I'm here for me."

"Are you going to fight me, baby doll?"

He's a slimy small little man, a pimp at it's finest, thinks he owns the world. Woman are just objects to him, tools to be used, a means to an end.

"All on your own?"

She smirks, a bit smugly, this guys gonna meet a terrible end. "I'm far from alone."

He looks about him, raising his hands, laughing that laugh of his. Uppity asshole. "Where's your army, baby doll?" He raises his hand, his trainers rise to their feet, her eyes jump from him to them. They're all going to die today. Except the girls. They promised to help the girls. "You're mine, I _own _you, you're my best girl." He waves for his trainers to take her. "Everyone wants a piece of you." He smirks as she steps back, she can feel metaphysical hands curl over her shoulders, solid and warm, unseen to the naked human eye. The hand on her right shoulder squeezes softly, Nisroc's heard enough, he wants a piece of his own.

The Captain falls out of formation first.

The tall man appears just as suddenly as the girl did, out of thin air, at her right shoulder. The girls all gasp in surprise, huddling together in fright, watching with wide frightened eyes. The two trainers back away a step, they recognize him, they remember him from the last time.

Abraxas breaths a sigh of relief as her older brother steps around her, stalking forward fearlessly, and takes hold of the man's neck. He lifts him cleanly off his feet.

Damn, her brothers are strong.

Nisroc smiles at the man, it's a biting smile, a sharks smile, one that assures that pain is sure to follow. "I told you I'd be back, _Johnny_."

"W-Who are you?"

"I'm her _older brother._" He squeezes tighter. "Look me in the eyes." Johnny gags, choking for a breath, porky little legs kicking frantically for purchase. "I _said _look me in the eyes." His eyes jump to those of the man holding him captive. "I don't take prisoners. I intend to play with my food before I eat it."

She watches them all jump into the fray that begins around them. A smile, a tad cruel in it's appearance, crosses her features.

She watches as Hasmal melts one of the trainers faces.

Puriel isn't even touching the other one and he's curled on the floor screaming.

Titus is beating one of the men. His face is unrecognizable. He's going to beat him until he stops thrashing.

Abe has a whip. It looks like Thaddeus's whip. Nisroc holds him pinned, Johnny can't move an inch, the whip biting into his back again and again.

Haniel taps Nisroc on the shoulder, and his Captain looks over at him curiously, nodding when he gestures for him to turn around. He pulls his fist back, packed tight, and plows it into Johnny's face. She flinches, instinctively, at the echoing crack that fills the room, his jaw shifts completely.

Michael squeezes her shoulder tightly and she turns to look up at him. "Would you like to partake?"

"I want to take a piece of Johnny."

He nods, guiding her forward, hovering just behind her. "Nisroc, turn him here."

Johnny's eyes are nearly swollen shut, his jaw snapped cleanly out of place, his back torn to shreds with the borrowed whip. "'ab' 'ol?"

She curls her fist tight. "My names _not _'baby doll' you egotistical, tyrannical, _bitch_." And with all the training she's learned under all her years being raised by Heaven's most fearsome legion, she swings her fist around, punching him so hard that it sweeps him off his feet, his jaw shifting again, unaligned completely and hanging open of its own accord. "Are you ready to _die_?"

Michael rolls his sleeves up slowly, it's a nice shirt, he doesn't want to ruin it. "I do believe it's my turn."

Johnny's head rolls over. "'o 'u'?"

"I'm her _guardian_."


	68. Angelic Babysitters

"There you are!"

He shrieks with laughter as fingers curl around his ankles and tug him out from under the bed, lifting him from the floor, hanging upside down as he's lifted to gaze into the eyes of the one who was playing with him in the bustling infirmary.

"You got away longer that time, Joshua."

"You still found me though."

The angel chuckles, swinging him by his ankles, and then he tosses him up. Joshua shrieks in excitement, winding his arms and kicking wildly, huffing at the sudden catch from midair as he falls back down again.

"Your giggling gave you away." He settles the book in the crook of one arm and wiggles the fingers of his free hand in his belly. "Just like it did every time before that."

The boy giggles madly, reaching for the fingers attacking his belly, squirming as much as one could in the position that he was in. "Orihihihi!"

"What?" He stops his attack for a moment and the boy curls his little fingers around his. "I'm just showing this belly the love that it deserves." And digs his fingers back in. The little human boy shrieks with laughter, kicking his little legs out, trying in vain to pull the hand off his belly. The bruises had long since faded, just little whispers of color now, and with their dwindling they worked on the second most important thing, his smile, his youth, the childlike wonder and innocence.

He was the baby of the Infirmary.

The Virtue chuckles when the boy squeals brightly, having found a particularly sensitive spot on his little chubby belly, and lets him lift his hand away from his attack. "My, my, you've gotten strong, haven't you?" He wiggles his fingers midair, and the boy shrieks, it makes him laugh softly. "I'm not even touching you, you silly little bear." His hand slowly lowers, and the boys giggles grow harder, their quantity growing drastically. "I'm gonna get you."

"Orihihih! Nohoho!"

"I'm gonna get that little belly."

The little fingers curled around his tighten, the boy straining to stop his hand from lowering anymore, giggling as he wiggles his fingers again. "It's coming. It's almost there."

"Orihihhi!"

He presses his palm over his belly, wiggling his fingers in, the boy shrieks, squealing brightly as he arches his back. "I tried to warn you. My hands taken on a mind of its own." He reaches down slightly to squeeze at his thighs lightly, little Joshua squeals again and kicks his feet. "I can't control it." He curls his fingers into a claw and spiders them up his free side. Joshua squeals again, shrieking with laughter, and curls closer to him as he tries to get away from his fingers. "It just wants to give you tickles."

"Orihihihi! Nohohoho!"

"What?" He reaches up and scratches a finger lightly under his chin, the boy giggles these adorable high pitched giggles and scrunches up like a turtle, shrieking when he jumps back down to his little belly. "We played your game. I want to play mine now." He lets the boy lift his hand again, giggling breathlessly, and he chuckles down at the giggly little boy. "I'll cut you a deal, because I'm so nice, you have to say I'm your favorite big brother."

Little Joshua giggles airily, nodding frantically. "Yohohou myhyhy faahahahhavorite!"

Oren pulls his hand free from those little fingers, curling his fingers under his arm, and the other hand under his other arm, he lifts the little boy up over his head. "Your favorite _what_?"

The little human boy giggles. "My favorite big brother."

"Damn right I am." He lowers his arms slightly, to toss him up above his head, and Joshua shrieks excitedly as children are wont to do when tossed up in the air. The Captain catches the boy by the middle, lifting him up again, he curls his little feet around his shoulders and straightens as much as he can. The dark blonde man chuckles at him, stretching his arms out as he lays his down softly midair, Joshua giggles and curls his legs around his stomach, and he pulls him back in, curling his arms under his bottom as little fingers curl around the back of his neck. "You're my favorite baby brother, baby boy."

The angel leans forward to kiss his small nose. "Do you want to go see if Zed has any juice?"

His human companion nods happily. "Yes, please."

He chuckles, nodding to the boy's request, and carries him across the threshold of the Infirmary, to the apothecary's workstation just across the way. Zed looks up as they approach, eyes wide at their sudden arrival, but he smiles at the boy in greeting quick enough. Pausing in his work, his young apprentice having the day off to do what she wanted, the apothecary curls his fingers around the edge of the work bench and leans forward. "Here for some juice?" He smiles when the boy nods quietly and reaches for the shelf next to him, where a small sippy cup sits, and he picks it up and holds it out to the boy. "Grape and apple, just as you like it."

Little Joshua reaches out for the cup with both hands. "Thank you, Z."

"You are most welcome, little guy." He reaches forward to pat the boys cheek lightly, winking at his brother, Oren smiles. "And, some chamomile mixed in there as well. Naptime's coming up, after all."

The human boy stops his sipping of his beloved drink and looks between them. "Naptime?"

They share a nod, and Oren bounces him gently, nodding up at him. "Nap time. You get cranky if you don't get your nap. We'll finish our juice, take a bathroom break, and find you a cozy bed to take your nap in."

"I like naptime."

Zed chuckles softly, leaning against his workbench carefully, and crosses his arms loosely. "We know you do."

Little Joshua looks down at the big brother holding him and pulls his cup away for a moment. "I can nap with bear, right?"

"Who else would be your naptime companion?"

The little human smiles at the two angels, a sight they'd always be elated to see, and starts sucking at his juice again. Oren smiles at him, then turns to his brother, Zed raises an eyebrow. "When's Raph returning, again?"

"Sometime tonight."

Their little human brother looks between them as they talk, quietly drinking at his juice, listening to every word rather attentively. The council had convened some days ago for a matter that none of the rest of them were privy to and the Healer had left his little boy in the care of his Virtues, they took rather good care of him, a messenger had sent word that their Healer would be returning to them soon, the update had been given just this morning. As much as Joshua liked staying with his big brothers, he missed Rapha, he couldn't wait for him to come back.


	69. Learning Something New

"Are you hiding from the others?"

He jumps at the sudden voice from behind him, turning to look who had snuck up on him when his back was turned, eyes going wide at _her _appearance. He had been here for nearly a month and in that entire time he had never gotten the opportunity to meet _her_. She still avoided him, clearly still upset on his taking her room even though she'd gotten it back, the others had said she'd come around after a while.

"You…You're.."

"You're the one who took my room."

The young elect nods, looking down ashamedly. "I'm sorry. If I had known what it meant to you, I wouldn't have asked for it."

She waves her hand in dismissal. "It's okay. I was mad, but you didn't know, so I'm not anymore."

"Hi, oh my goodness, I've been wanting to meet you, I'm Sablo."

"I know who you are." She looks around them. "Are you hiding from the others?"

Sablo nods, ducking back down again, leaning back against the wall, and he watches as she crosses around him to sit at his side. "They keep trying to get me."

"Oh, I get it." Abraxas nods lightly, crossing her legs under her, and she smiles as she looks over at him. "They found your spot."

He nods again. "They keep getting me." The elect looks down at his hands. "I was supposed to be a Power. Big and strong and tough. But instead they act like I'm a fledgling."

"You get used to it." She laughs softly. "Trust me. I haven't been a fledgling for a while and they still treat me like I'm the baby they helped raise. I'm the youngest, you're the second youngest, get used to it." She waves her hand slightly. "They're all a bunch of softies. Seriously, they're only big and fearsome in battle." She taps her lips. "Or when they're mad." Abraxas turns to look at her closest older brother. "Have you ever seen Nis when he's mad?"

Sablo shakes his head. "No. It can't be that bad, can it?"

"He's a very _hands on _disciplinarian."

"He is?"

She nods, sparing him a look. "Just don't make him mad and you'll be fine. But if you do, just start crying, works for me _every_ time."

"How do you get away from them when they try to..you know."

"Tickle attack you?"

Sablo nods.

Abraxas smiles mischievously. "You have to know their own weakness."

"What is it?"

"Well," she rubs her hands together. "Nis has ticklish ribs. The worst is the highest. If you ever wanna see the big bad Captain of the Powers shriek like a fledgling, just give his highest ribs a poke, it'll make him jump out of his skin." The youngest of the Powers laughs softly. "Michael can make him squeal, I'm serious, don't look at me like that, it's hilarious. If you tell him that Nis is being mean he'll do it."

"Have you ever done it?"

"Me?" Abraxas nods. "Yea. But you have to be ready to _run. _Like, run like you've never run before. Because he'll come after you, he'll hunt you down, and if he catches you...Well," she scratches at her cheek lightly, "well, he'll take you to his room with you and he'll _torture _you."

He shivers, remembering the feeling, he can almost feel the tingles running up and down his sides, and it makes him squirm. She smirks at him. "Oh, yea, he pulls out _all _the stops."

"What about the other one?" He turns to look at her, and she turns to meet his gaze, listening intently. "What about Abraxos?"

"Abe?" She tucks her hair behind her ear. "Abe can't stand it when you poke him in the belly. Which is hilarious, because he pokes Hani in the belly all the time because he knows he can't stand it, and Hani would never return the favor because he knows Abe would destroy him." She turns to spare him a glance. "Abe's like Nis. You have to make sure you can escape, or he'll destroy you too."

"How do you know all of this?"

His younger sister makes a show of checking her nails. "You learn a few things once you've been around the block a few times."

The door to their hiding spot opens and they both jump. "Well look at this. A two for one special."

Both Aba and Sablo jump to their feet, their Captain smirking at them playfully as he leans against the door frame, crossing his arms loosely. "Just the two I was hoping to find." The two of them exchange looks, running forward at the same time, he manages to catch them both around the middle, but Sablo uses his new knowledge to his advantage and pokes him harshly in the ribs. His Captain yelps, jolting at the feeling, and he manages to slip from his hold.

His sister isn't so lucky.

But she said to run, he tested his luck, and so he runs.

Every man for themselves when in that position.

Nisroc chuckles softly, he'd find the boy later, he had a young one to torture in his grasp. "Did you tell him how to get away?"

"No?"

She giggles when he looks down at her. "Let me show you how I feel about lying."


	70. Consequences Of Our Actions

Abraxos looked up at the sudden entrance to his room, giggling like a madman, she ran across the threshold and threw herself at him, he dropped his book to catch her, lest she tumble over the other side of the bed from pure momentum. Chuckling when she hugged herself as close to his side as she could, looking out at the doorway, he watched in amusement as his Captain sauntered up to the entrance, and crossed his arms as he leaned against the doorframe.

"Let that be a lesson to you, little lady."

He kisses the top of her head. "What did she do?"

"She told our newest plaything how to escape from us."

The other Power looks down at his baby girl, rubbing her arm lightly. "You did, did you?"

She nods, giggling still, and curls her arm around her belly as much as she can. "Myhyhy behehehelly huhuhurts!"

They share a fond chuckle, shaking their heads at her fondly, and exchange a smile. "Well, I can see you've been punished enough, so I'll let this one go." He kisses her head again. "Besides, I like the thrill of a challenge."

Nisroc rubs his hands together lightly. "Well, I take my leave, then. I have things I need to do."

"Like what, exactly."

"Hunting down our adorable little elect."

…

He couldn't help but giggle, for he knew what was to come, she had told him what would happen if _he_ caught him after making his escape, hanging upside down over his Captain's shoulder as they walked calmly over the training field. Elders watched them pass, his old big brothers watched them pass, it being one of those rare days that the Powers were free from duties, they all spent their days up in the Pavilion relaxing through this rare day of down time between them all.

Nisroc pat his thigh as he looked down for the first step, slowly climbing their way up to the Pavilion above them, he saw the row of boots at the entrance to their home, the Lounge empty of bodies.

"What are you doing?"

He stiffened at the new voice, fingers curling in the back of his Captain's tunic, he felt him curl his fingers around his thigh comfortingly, just above his knee.

Bare feet padded softly against the warm stone underfoot, the sound of gulping as someone took a drink from a glass, he knew the voice, it was the same voice of the Power that had helped patch him up after the last training session, he'd bound his cut hand and rubbed the tension from his shoulders, he'd ended up falling asleep slumped against him and he'd still been there when he'd woken some time later, silently reading a book.

Nisroc pat his bottom softly and he squirmed over his shoulder. "Just teaching a bit of a lesson." He reached back and pinched at his side, eliciting a soft giggle from the small elect. "A bit of fun, really."

"A bit of fun?" He heard the distinctive sound of a cup being set on one of the wooden side tables, the padding of feet on stone as he drew closer, "I want to have a bit of fun, too." And shrieked when fingers spider'd up his under thighs playfully, kicking out as best as he could, trying to dislodge the fingers that followed him no matter which direction he tried to turn or how hard he tried to kick out. "Oh, nice, fun indeed." Fingers turned inwards, squeezing at his inner thighs and he squealed brightly, feeling his cheeks heat up red, and began pounding his fists against his Captain's back in favor of clutching at his tunic. "So, this is our giggly little elect I keep hearing about?"

He feels the Captain quake as he chuckles, tightening his grip on the wiggly boy hanging over his shoulder, letting his brother have his fun for the moment. "Indeed, it is, have you met Puriel yet, Sablo?" He makes to answer the question, mouth forming the words, when fingers pinch at his inner thighs again and all that he manages to get out is another squeal. "It looks like someone has sensitive little thighs, makes me think of my little Sasha, ahh the memories that brings back. I haven't played with him for quite a bit. I think we should have some _quality _time together soon." He nods at his brother. "Puri, you've struck gold."

It still amazes him how playful Heavens most fearsome warriors are.

Abraxas had said they were only fearsome in the heat of battle though, that much was becoming evident to him, and that behind the scenes they were all a bunch of big, muscular, softies. Who, apparently, liked torturing the younger ones.

"Listen to him, he can't even form words, he's laughing too hard." Fingers stroke softly at his soles and he shrieks lightly, kicking at the hands, and they both laugh softly. "You guys are right, he is rather giggly, its endearing."

Nisroc chuckles softly, patting his bottom again. "I _told_ you he was." His fingers curl around his left thigh, digging deeply into the meat of his inner thigh, and he squeals again, pounding at his back again, until he stops. The medic presses his thumb into his upper sole comfortingly. "I can see I'm going to have plenty of fun with you, little guy, I can't wait." He steps away, the glass sliding off the wooden table as he takes it back in hand, another gulp, another sip. "I'll leave you to your fun, brother."

"I thank you, brother, and you have your fun."

"Oh," he chuckles softly. "I _intend _to. Have you seen Hani, by chance?"

"The last time I saw him he was in the Armory scrubbing his boots. Why?"

"Oh, nothing too important." Puriel steps around them, rubbing the back of Sablo's head as he passes by. "There are just a few things I think he needs to be reminded of, is all."

Nisroc chuckles softly, nodding his head. "I understand. Make sure he learns it well."

"Oh, he will, I assure you."

He chuckles again, turning them back around, continuing their trek to his room. Nisroc's room is big, not too big, but big enough for two beds and two wardrobes. His desk sits under the window, a bookshelf along the far wall, and the embers in the fireplace on the other burning a soft orange still. He bends forward, tugging the younger Power back over his shoulder by the back of his tunic. Sablo yelps as his world is turned, and he flails lightly as he's thrown over onto the bed, bouncing on the mattress softly. His Captain looms over him, hands resting on his hips lightly, as he smiles down at him. "I'm going to show you what happens to those who try and get _me_. Tell me," he slowly lowers himself, climbing up over him, and he curls his arms around himself in anticipation. "Did our little Aba tell you what happens _next_?"

He nods, giggling softly as his older brother settles over his legs softly, keeping him in place for the absolute torture that's about to come. "Why are you so nice to me?"

"Simple." He curls his fingers around the bottom of his tunic and begins pulling it gently out from under his belt. "You're my baby brother, baby boy, and I adore all my baby siblings."

"I'm your baby brother?"

The oldest Power nods, pausing in his preparations, and looks up at him gently. "I can't take back how your brothers treated you, Sablo, no matter how much I wish I could, the best I can do is show you the care and love that they should have shown you, and I will ensure that you know it."

"But I'm not a fledgling anymore."

"I know you're not. But there are two babies in our small tight knit family, and you are one of them. I'm afraid it's just going to be your life now. And, no matter how old you get, you're _never_ too old to laugh, _never _too old to play with your big brothers, and you've got six of them. You just haven't met them all yet."

"You guys aren't how everyone thinks you are."

He raises an eyebrow at him. "And, just _how _does everyone think we are?"

"Stern, fearsome, strict."

"Oh, trust me, we are. Especially on the battle field. We are strict about a few things, there's a few rules that there are consequences if they're broken, like hiding injuries, lying, abusing your position is a big no-no." He smiles down at him, pulling his tunic up over his belly, the warm air covering the belly surface. "But as long as you follow our rules everything will be fine."

"I like having you guys as my big brothers."

Nisroc smiles at him gently, leaning forward to press his lips to his forehead, giving him a gentle tender kiss. "I'm glad to hear that. It warms my heart." He looks down at his bare belly. "Now, what am I going to do to you." He tilts his head, drumming his fingers over his lower belly, and he giggles softly at the feeling. "I could go easy on you, it's your first offense, obviously." He wiggles his fingers in lightly and the young elect giggles harder, squirming under him as best as he can softly, his fingers curling in the quilt underneath him. "Or, I could teach you the lesson now, make you think twice about trying to get _me _next time."

"IhIhI thihihink yoohohou shohhould gohoho eheheheasy ohohon mehehe!"

"You think I should go easy on you?" He stills his fingers, the Captain looks up at him, a playful light in his eyes. "I don't know, that makes me want to go on with the lesson, that wouldn't be going _easy _on you. You have to learn that all actions had _consequences_."

"Eheheheasy! Yohohou shohohould gohhooho eahahahhasy ohohon mehehee."

He digs his fingers deeply into his lower belly, the younger angel under him shrieks brightly, arching his back at the suddenness of the assault. The older angel looks down at the smooth belly surface, moving his fingers to the side of his belly so he can press a kiss to the shaking belly surface, he rests his chin on the shaking belly and looks up to meet his bright eyes.

The thing with Sablo is, when he laughs, his eyes laugh with him, when he smiles, his eyes smile too. His eyes brighten considerably so, full of happiness and laughter and playfulness. It's a wonderful sight to see, that's why they come after him so much, it's a sight that's rarely seen in the younger ones anymore, and to see it now is breathtaking.

"You want me to go easy on you, huh?"

He nods frantically, his bright laughter bringing a smile to his features, and his bright, laughter filled eyes open to peer into his. His gaze makes his heart soar, he loves that look, that spark that comes to those beautiful baby blues. The Captain shakes his head gently, rubbing his chin into his belly, rubbing his beard in good, and the young elect shrieks again, sucking in his belly as much as he can.

Nisroc chuckles softly, halting his attack for a moment, looking up at him with playful eyes. "You think sucking in your little belly is going to stop me?" His new baby brother holds his breath, nodding quickly, watching his older brother smile at him. "You should relax, you're only going to strain yourself, and we don't want that." He chuckles again when the young one shakes his head stubbornly. "I _said _you need to relax." He digs his fingers back into his belly, Sablo bites his lip, squirming slightly from side to side, until giggles start to escape him, it's when he rubs his beard back into his belly that he lets go of his breath, shrieking in laughter. "That's it, good boy." He pokes his lower belly playfully. "Look at that, you still have a bit of baby fat, that's just adorable."

"I dohoho noohohoot!"

"You do." He pokes his belly lightly with two fingers. "Right here." The Captain looks up at him. "Now, I want to see if I can make you squeal like Puri did." He spiders the fingers of his right hand up his side and he shrieks in laughter, leaning as far away from his fingers as he can manage in his position, and the older Power clicks his tongue and shakes his head. "We can't have that."

Fingers dig back into his belly, and when he arches his back, arms slide underneath him and curls around his stomach. "That's better, let's get to work." He leans over to the side, the little elect's giggles grow harder as he watches him with widening eyes, screaming with laughter when his older brother buries his face into his side. Just like he had when they had first met, officially, back when he'd come into his room for the very first time, and he has the same reaction. He squeals brightly, sounding much like a fledgling does, and buries his fingers in his Captains long dirty blonde hair, he tries to lean away but the arms circled around his belly keep him in place. He squeals again when the older angel shakes his head, rubbing his chin into his side, the scratchy feeling of his well kept beard adding to the sensations, he tugs at the Powers hair when he feels him nibble softly at the slight pudge on his side shrieking in laughter. When he stills, takes a deep breath, and blows out a long raspberry, he squeals again, and gives up on the thought of pulling him away and starts to push at his head instead.

He's not strong enough to push the older Power away, and as he shakes his head again, rubbing his chin into his side, he instead reaches for his hands, curled lightly around his sides and tries to pry them away. He arches his back again, trying to twist over, when he nibbles at his slight pudge again.

Nisroc laughs softly when he pulls away from his side, coming to rest on his tummy again, he shakes his head softly. "My, my," he takes in the mess he's made of their little elect, gulping in breath after breath, giggling deliriously in the aftermath of his brutal attack. "Someone's gone crazy."

"Whyhyhyhyyy ahahhaare yohohou sohoho meehehheahahan tohoho meheehee!"

"Because I'm your big brother." He wiggles his fingers into the sides of his tummy, and he arches his back again. "And, because I _can _be and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

The elder leans over to the left, and his eyes widen, trying to lean away from him and begins to giggle harder. "NO! Noho! Nohoot agahahain! NO! No, no, no! Stahahay awaahay! Stay away!" His fingers curl around the ones curled around the sides of his belly, shaking his head frantically, his giggles pick up into laughter, and he's not even _doing _anything.

It's just the thought. The thought of it. He knows how bad it's going to be, his other side is still tingling from the attack, he knows what's going to happen.

"Here I come."

"NO! No, no, no, no! Get away! Gehehet Awaahahay!"

"I'm almost there."

"Nohohoot aahahagahahain! Nohoho! Dohohon't! Gehehet awahahahay! Geheheheet awahahahay!"

He screams when he buries his face into his left side, he arches his back, reaching down to push at the arms wrapped under his back, trying to push himself out from under the Power Captain. And then he remembers, it's what got him in this predicament in the first place, but he was desperate, especially when he started nibbling at the pudge on his side again. He reaches down, digging his fingers sharply in his Captain's highest ribs, he shrieks in surprise, jumping away from him. Sablo takes that as his chance, twisting over onto his stomach, he tries to crawl over to the other side of the bed, his moment of freedom doesn't last long though, fingers curl around his ankles and tug him back again and he shrieks at his failed attempt for freedom.

He screams again, squealing brightly, it's a shrill fledgling like squeal, when fingers run up and down his sides, his left and his right, at the same moment, and a face buries in the side of his neck. He screams in uproarious laughter, kicking his feet, pounding his fists against the mattress, tears quickly form in his eyes.

"What happens when you try and get me?" He nuzzles deeply into his neck. "This is what happens. I want you to _remember _this."

Sablo wants to beg him to stop, wants to say something, he wants to use his words. But, he can't. He can't do anything but laugh. And laugh. And laugh. And laugh. He's going to die here. His older brother is going to kill him.

And then there's sweet relief, for a moment, and the brutal attack stops. He chokes for a breath, his chest heaving for air, he rubs the tears away with his fingers.

"Are you still alive?" The elder sounds extremely amused.

"Myhyhy beheheehelly!"

Nisroc chuckles above him. "What about your belly?"

"Huhuhuurrttss! Myhy beheheelly huhurhurhurts!"

"Your belly hurts?" He stiffens at that tone he uses. "Let me help you."

He scrabbles to pull himself forward, but the Power tugs him around, burying his face into his belly.

"Nonononooooohohoho! Stooop! Stohooohop! I caan't! I caaahahahan't!"

When he nibbles on the slight belly pudge, he loses it, his laughter goes silent and he just falls limp. He arches his back and throws his head back, drilling his heels into the mattress, as tears slowly drip from his eyes.

His Captain pulled away from his belly. "Does your belly still hurt?"

He shakes his head frantically, shakes his head as if his life depends on it, but his belly still hurts, his chest is heaving for air, sweet, sweet air. He just lays there limply, giggling deliriously, his belly and sides are sore, his cheeks are wet, and his eyes sting.

Nisroc chuckles softly. "I hope you learned your lesson."

Sablo nods, he's learned this lesson, he's learned it well. He's never going to use the knowledge he'd gained from Abraxas again, he'd rather take the playful torture and endure it, this, this was brutal. He never wants to be on this side again.

His older brother smiles down at him and falls over to the side, laying on his back next to him, and Sablo slowly turns onto his side, curling up against the elder Power, hugging his arm to his chest, and he chuckles again, rubbing his fingers over his comfortingly. He reaches over with his free hand to rub at the back of his head tenderly.

"Why don't you roll over," he raises his arm slightly. "I'll rub your shoulders."

Sablo does, still hugging his arm, he rolls over onto his belly, pressed up against his older brother's side, his big brother, he's merciless and gentle and he loves him. Fingers press into his shoulder, rubbing soothingly, working the tension and the knots out, and he sighs deeply as he melts under the gentle, tender touches.

"Close your eyes, baby boy." He does as he's told, closing his eyes softly, his cheek presses against the older angels upper arm. "Now just relax."

That feels nice. Right there. Yes, right there, that feels good.

"Take yourself a nap, baby boy, you need it after that."

He does. A nap sounds good. He wants to take a nap. He's comfortable, he's sleepy, completely worn out after such a brutal attack.

Nis may be merciless.

But he'll also take good care of him.


	71. Taking Care Of The Carer

He hummed absently as he walked down the empty hall of the rebuilt Pantheon, their home was even more beautiful then it was before, he checked in on the fledglings as he made his way down the hall towards his destination. His destination was a small room at the end of the hall, the door was always closed, the occupant kinder then he often came off as, always working late into the night and rising early in the day.

His humming continued as he made his way to the door, standing just before it, he could hear the rustle inside of someone moving about and doing as they pleased. He gripped the door handle tightly, his hand shaking softly, and turned it to the side. The lock unclicked from the latch and he was able to pull the door open to gain entrance.

The query of his nightly search stands just before him, reading through a book spread open on a vast work bench, bottles and jars and vials lay scattered around him, ingredients placed all around in an organized chaotic mess.

"Hello, Jeremiah."

He nods to the Grigori's apothecary. "Hello, Semyaza."

The Captain leans forward against his work bench, his eyes taking on a concerned light, as he looks his younger brother over. They weren't separated by many years, Jeremiah was younger only by a few, but he took his position as the elder very seriously.

"Miah, I'm worried about you."

"There is nothing to worry over, dear brother." The quiet Choir Elder closed the door softly behind him, the smallest of clicks indicating the latch catching the lock again. "Everything is as it should be. I am thankful."

"Miah, I am not so blind as to not see you're breaking at the seams." The dark haired Grigori gestures to him as a whole. "You're _shaking_."

Jeremiah looks down for a moment, taking a deep breath, and nods his head as he looks back up to his older brother. "There is a chill in the air."

"Not nearly cold enough to make you shiver like that."

"Yaza, please, I only come for my vial."

The tall Grigori nods, crossing his arms tightly, looking down at his work bench. "Miah, what I'm making you, it is only a _temporary _fix, you need more help than I can offer."

"I am fine, Yaza, I appreciate your concern." The gentle Choir Elder crosses away from the door, to stand before the work table, and gazes up at his older brother. "I just need something to take the edge off, Yaza, that is all. I am fine."

Semyaza shakes his head slowly, looking back down again, leaning forward against the edge of his work table. "Miah, I want you to know, I only did this to help you."

He tilts his head. "Did what, brother?"

"You left me no choice." He looks back up at him, his expression pained, as though he had betrayed him in some manner. "If you wouldn't help yourself, then you left me no choice but to step in, you need more help then I can offer you."

"I don't understand," he shakes his head. "What did you do?"

"Jeremiah."

He stills, his chin dipping slightly, to the side, as he registers the voice. It's deep, melodious, he would know that voice anywhere he went, it was the voice of the one who had raised him, the voice that led him out of the Prison after the first war, and after the second. He now understood what his Grigori brother meant, what he had done, he hadn't even seen _him _when he entered.

The younger looks back to the elder, Semyaza looks guilty. "You left me no choice, Miah."

"Jeremiah, look at me, please." He turns slowly, turns around, and finally sees where he stands. His Choir Master, his old guardian, the one who had cared for him since he had been a small babe just created, stands there beside the door. He understands how he had missed him, he'd only been focused on getting his tonic, he hadn't thought that there would have been anyone else in there with them. "Miah," his tone is gentle, as though he's speaking to a spooked fledgling, and his eyes look him over carefully. "How long has this been going on?"

He doesn't speak, he doesn't dare admit it, instead he looks to his feet quietly.

"Yaza?"

"Nearly a month."

The Morningstar frowns as he watches his Choir Elder. "Miah, you're shaking." He gestures to his side, he is not alone, Jeremiah follows his gesture to the Archangel next to him, the Healer smiles at him gently. "Miah, you need more help than I can offer you, I want you to go with Raph, he can help you more than I can, you need to allow yourself to be taken care of, now."

"I appreciate all of your concern, I truly do, but I am fine." He looks between both Archangels. "I just need a bit of help sometimes."

"Jeremiah," the Healer steps forward slightly, it's then that he notices the blanket draped over his arm, his eyes flit from the blanket to the electric blue eyes of the Archangel. "I do not have to be as observant as I am to see that you are not well, there is no shame in admitting you need help, you've been shaking since you've entered."

Still, he shakes his head softly, he can't help that he's shaking. He cannot stop it, and it's not for lack of trying, he needs the tonic to take the edge off.

It hurts.

_Everything_ hurts.

"Miah," he looks over his shoulder to his older brother. "Miah, you take care of _everyone_, you've are the strongest angel I've ever _known_. Let someone take care of _you _now."

Jeremiah takes a deep breath, nodding his head gently, he just needed something to take the edge off. That's it. "Alright." He looks back to his Master and the Healer. "I'll come. Just," he looks to his Master, "please make sure the little ones are taken care of."

Lucifer nods softly. "Everything will be just fine."

He nods, and the Healer takes that as his permission, stepping forward for him. He shakes the blanket out, drapes it over his shoulders, and curls his arm around his shoulders gently. "Everything's going to be just fine." The Choir Elder nods, looking down to his feet for a moment, and in the next he returns his gaze to his Master's. "I'm sorry."

"Don't ever be sorry for needing help, Miah, never."

Raphael looks over his head to the Grigori behind them. "Thank you, Yaza." He just nods to the Archangel silently. He turns to look at his brother. "We will take our leave." The Morningstar nods, watching them closely as the Healer guides them from the Captain's room. Once the door clicks shut, he turns to his apothecary. "Yaza, what was it you were making for him?"

"Pain relievers."

…

The Infirmary is quiet in the night, he is the only new patient that enters at this hour, everyone else in their care is already fast asleep in their beds. The only ones who walk around are the healers, checking in on their sleeping patients, making sure they are all comfortable and taken care of. He sees Oren guiding a young healer to an empty bed, the little one making shaky hand movements, he knows the silent speak, the young ones cannot head to sleep until their elders do, but that does not mean they will not put them to bed until that time comes.

The Archangel guides him to an empty bed, the blankets folded back, a clean tunic and a pair of trousers folded and resting on the pillow.

"Get yourself changed, little Miah, and we will take a look at you."

He nods, shrugging the blanket off his shoulders, leaning forward for the trousers, slipping them on first, and when he reaches for the tunic, a gentle dark hand stays him. "Leave the tunic for now." He nods, standing back up, and turns to the Healer for further instruction. "Sit, sit, little Miah." He bends at the knee, reaching a shaking hand out to catch himself, and sits on the edge of the bed as tenderly as he can. The Healer kneels before him, curling long fingers over his knees, looking at him imploringly. "What can I do for you, little Miah?"

"I..I am in so much pain."

Raphael nods gently. "What causes you such pain, Miah?"

"My wings."

He nods again. "Let's take a look."

Jeremiah nods softly, allowing the Healer to stand again, guide him around with a gentle hand on his shoulder, he's curled around and laid on his stomach, his arms curled under his head and a blanket is curled up to his waist. A gentle hand presses to the back of his head. "I'm going to release your wings, alright?"

He nods again, hiding his face in his arms, feeling the rush that is in releasing ones wings from the metaphysical plane they keep them on and into the physical. There's no quick intake of breath, no gasps, no indication of horror, just a sad little sigh. "Oh, little Miah." He pets the back of his head gently. "We'll get you well taken care of."

"Here's the tonic you wanted."

Jeremiah looks over his arm at the new voice, he knows that voice, him and Yaza are rather close. Zed smiles down at him, holding a small vial out to him, and says nothing on the state of his wings. "Here you go, Miah, it'll help with the pain."

He takes the vial, downing it in one gulp. "Thank you, Zed."

"Always, Miah."

"Zed would you please fetch Oren and Akriel for me?"

"Of course."

Fingers rub over the edge of his left wing and he whines softly. "And have them bring a basin of water and some sponges."

"Of course."

Jeremiah looked over his shoulder, to see the state of his wings, and gave a small whine of shame. It was always his wings that they went after, they'd been clipped during the first war, healed again, and then clipped during the second war, it was always his wings. The archangel looks back down at him, sitting on the edge of his bed, he rubs his fingers over the back of his neck comfortingly. "We'll take good care of you, Miah, the tonic should kick in here in a few moments, when it does you get some sleep. We'll have your wings taken care of by the morning."


	72. Spread Your Wings

"Okay," he brings his hands together as he spies over at the two of them, they'd put it off as long as they could, but the time had come that they couldn't put it off any longer. "I want to look over their wings. I don't expect it to be an easy feat." He smiled, there was only one who could make the younger of the two prisoners so peaceful, there was no regret to be had in pushing their beds together. "We are going to treat this like their wings have been clipped." He looks to his apothecary. "Zed, I need something to numb them while we work." The Virtue nods, heading off the create what's been asked of him, the sooner its completed the better it is. He turns to his Captain "Oren, you are going to aid me, I need you to gather the necessary supplies. Oils and rags, plenty of rags, lavender soaps, brushes, lotions, razors, and bandages." His Captain nodded, heading off to gather what was needed, he turns to his mental specialist. "Akriel, help him, we need a basin of warm water." He nods, heading off to help his brother gather their necessary things.

Raphael turns to the rest of them. "The rest of you continue on with your duties. Things should run as normal as possible here."

The others nod at his soft command, turning to return to their patients and duties, leaving the Healer with the task of telling their most important what they intended to complete that day. Raphael rubs at his cheek lightly, nodding to himself, as he turns around to cross over to their bed. Abner looks up at him at his approach, stroking his fingers down the back of his brother's neck, Gadreel's eyes are closed, expression peaceful, nearly asleep under his older brothers gentle touch.

"What is on today's agenda?" They've been here for quite some time now, and they still had some time to come. The Archangel smiles at him tenderly. "I want to look over your wings."

Abner nods understandingly, looking down at his younger brother under him, resting peacefully against his chest. "Look over Reel first," he scratches the back of his scalp lightly and the younger sentry nuzzles his cheek against his chest lightly. "He took the brunt of it all. They were harsher on him then they were on me."

The archangel nods gently, kneeling down, the young sentry stiffens under his touch. "Gadreel?" His eyes open, still cloudy from the peaceful slumber he'd been drawn into, but aware of his surroundings. "I'm going to look over your wings, alright?"

He whines softly, ducking back into his older brother, and Abner curls his arms around him gently, rubbing at his scalp and neck. "It's okay, Reel. It's okay. I'm going to stay with you, okay?" He nods languidly against his chest. "I'm not going anywhere. They're going to help you. They're going to make you feel better, I know it hurts, they're going to help." Gadreel sighs deeply, slowly being pulled back into that peaceful state of _almost _slumber. "Good angel, very good."

Raphael rests his hand on the back of his head, leaning forward slightly, Gadreel's eyes flutter open briefly before the close again, but their gazes meet for a single moment. "I'm going to release your wings, alright?"

He waited for his traumatized patient to give him his nod of consent, and when he does, he stands back to his full height, and makes a semi complicated hand gesture of his shoulders, releasing the wings from where they are kept on the metaphysical plain when they're not being used, out into the physical plain that they live in now. The urge to release a small gasp at the sight of them is an urge that he holds back with great difficulty, as his eyes slowly rove over the injured appendages, taking them in for all that they were worth. He wanted to commit their sight to memory, something he wanted to remember even in the darkest of nights, the consequences of compromised judgement.

Abner looks up from his brother's peaceful expression, if not a bit pained, and peers over his head to see the extent of the damage. His expression saddens as he gazes upon the extensive damage, he had never seen them before, Gadreel had kept them tucked away when he wasn't in the back room, their torture chamber, all he knew of it was the screams that echoed down the silent hall, save for the soft moans from the other prisoners, he knew the pain from the deep gut wrenching screams he'd let out.

And then he'd return.

Hanging limply between two hardened guards, they open his cell door and throw him in, he falls limply on the cold stone ground and doesn't move again. The guards laugh at him as they slam the cell door shut and leave him there. He'd watch the younger sentry just lay there, as still as the dead, and whisper to him through the bars of his cell, hoping for some sort of response, anything, even the slightest twitch of a finger, anything to know he was still alive.

His only response was the smallest twitch of his fingers.

It wasn't until more prisoners had started coming, more then the Prisons could hold, and they'd been thrown into the same cell that he finally got to meet his neighbor. Gadreel had flinched away from him at first, both of them having retreated to their own corners, away from the other, having been trained that others meant pain. You were safer alone. Safer on your own. It had been after one of his own torture sessions that the first move had been made between them, he'd been laying against his corner, curled up as tight as he could manage, when shaking fingers curled around his limp hand. He'd looked up from under his arm, to see the pale fingers wrapped around his, and curled his around his in return.

They grew from there, Gadreel eventually made it into his corner, huddled between his legs, leaning against his sore and abused chest.

He returns to petting the back of his head, ducking down, he doesn't want to see his baby brother's wings in that manner.

His wings are a shell of their former glory; the lower parts, where the primaries had been, were bare. The feathers had been yanked free without a care, the skin red and inflamed, even after all this time. The guards were not healers, they did not care enough to aid them, and thus did not do anything to keep them clean from infection. Butts of feathers still poked free, the shafts of a few sticking out like pale thing twigs, the wax covering the infected skin was thick and charred, as it had been hardened, excruciatingly for the one unfortunate enough to be on the other end. Welts were hastily scabbed over, they would scar, the scabs were thick, they'd been broken many, many times. More then half of his secondaries were yanked free, some broken halfway down the shaft, others broken at the quill. There are long lines, cut deep into the flesh, thin lines, whip marks. Hooks are curled under the arm of the wing.

The archangel closed his eyes for a moment, turning away from them briefly, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He set a hand on the sleepy sentry's shoulder lightly. "We can fix this."

He left them for a moment, crossing away from them for his apothecary's workstation, he was busy making the strong pain reliever he had requested.

Zed looked up at his approach.

"Zed, I need a sleeping drought, the strongest one you've got." He peers over his shoulder. "This is not going to be very pleasant and he should not be awake for it."

Zed nods, turning away from his cauldron, to the shelf beside him, and sifts through the vials he has there. He sifts through them for a brief moment, and finds the one he's looking for, turning to pass it to his archangel. He takes it in hand, nodding in appreciation. "Thank you, Zed, how is the pain reliever coming?"

"It should be done by the time you're through."

"Good." He nods, turning slowly. "Very good."

Oren and Akriel are waiting for him at their bedside, their sent for items sitting on a rolling table beside them, their whispering softly with Abner, not wanting to disturb the slumbering angel before his procedure. He nods at them, kneeling at the head of the bed, in front of the peaceful sentry. "Gadreel?" His eyes flutter open, and he pops the cap off the vial, holding it out to him. "Drink this." He nods weakly, his lips curling, and needs the help of the Healer and his brother to lift himself high enough to keep from choking as he swallows it. The affects take hold quickly, his eyes flutter again, and he lays his head back down as his eyes flutter closed.

They don't open again.

Abner strokes his fingers over his forehead worriedly, calling out to him softly, and when he gains no response he looks up to the Healer with wide distrusting eyes.

It breaks his hurt to see that expression, solely meant for him. "What did you do!"

"He's alright. It's just a strong sedative. It'll keep him from waking while we work." He looks down over his wings. "He shouldn't be awake for this."

Abner seemed unsure, but gave an ounce of trust, nodding silently in acceptance, as he looks back down to his younger brother and strokes his fingers over his cheek tenderly.

He turns, Oren's got his sleeves rolled up as he washes his hands in the second basin of water, dries them on the cloth hanging over the side. Akriel has lit a burner under a smaller basin, heating the coconut oil inside, soaking strips of cloth in the warming oil. He nods to them both in thanks, stepping up beside his Captain as he too rolls his sleeves up, washing his hands in the warm water, and dries them on a clean, dry cloth.

The Healer gestures for the Virtue to take the left side, as he takes his place at the right, reaching over his shoulders for one of the straight razors, Oren hands it over at his beckoning. They exchange looks over the tortured appendages, and then begin their work, chipping away at the thick wax coating his wings, cutting away chunks at a time, peeling away layer after layer, as one would peel an apple, as the rags soak up the warmed coconut oil in the small basin.

Above them, the sun slowly travelled across the sky, moving them passed noon and into the afternoon, and by then they had only just managed to get the thick layers shaved down, a small piles of peels formed around them, at their feet, around the stools they sat on as they worked fluidly over their appointed wings.

Oren pauses for a moment, looking up at the angel they were tending to, watching the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders. "How's he doin, Ab?"

The older sentry looks up from watching his younger brother's peaceful slumber, meeting the inquisitive eyes of the Virtue over his head, smiling at his inquiry. "Sleeping."

He smiles at the sentry. "Good."

He reaches for a rag, dampened with warm coconut oil, and pressed it firmly to a portion, letting the warmth soften the wax, and the oil mix in to soften it more, and ease the burn as he peeled it off. The archangel soon followed, both trying to be as gentle as they could, not wanting the pain as they worked to overpower the sedation.

Gadreel stiffened, the muscles in his arms tensing, a soft whine escaped his throat, and the older sentry was quick to lull him back under, brushing his thumb over his forehead, he whispered down to him soft reassurances and the tension slowly melted as he fell back under the affects of the sedative.

Abner lay there, the younger angel laying between his legs, using his chest as his pillow, trying to offer as much soft comfort as he could even in his brother's deep sleep.

The skin was raw once they removed the wax coating, and the Healer was mindful as he reached for a pair of fancy looking clamps, using them to pull the free-standing quills out. He tugged on the feathers that remained, Oren working in sync with him, plucking at the ones halfway broken, and tenderly smoothing the ones that managed to remain where they lay, the ones that hadn't been touched by his torturer.

They both took a sponge from the basin of warm clean water, lathered them up with lavender soap, and moved on to washing the inflamed skin with gentle circular strokes. Digging the sponges in a bit more firmly when they made to wash out the gashes cut into the inflamed skin, rubbing firmly at the whip lashes, and Gadreel whined again, his fingers flexing in his older brothers shirt. Abner curled the fingers of his right hand over the one clenched at his tunic. "It's okay, baby brother, you're okay." He rubs the tension from his hand soothingly. "Go back to sleep." He smiles gently when the younger sentry nuzzles his cheek against his chest and settles back down. Turning a glare up at the two healers. "Be more gentle."

"We're sorry," the Healer sets his sponge aside and reaches for the lotion to rub into the warm raw skin. "We're just about done." They both reach for multiple swaths of bandages and begin binding the sensitive, freshly cleaned, raw wings.

Gadreel sighs, a small bit of comfort from such a small comfort of having ones wings tended to.

"And you, young one," Abner looks up at being addressed, both Archangel and Virtue watching him carefully. "How do your wings fair?"

"They are fine, sore, but fine." He looks back down to his sleeping baby brother. "Just a few pulled feathers." The older sentry looks down at the younger tenderly. "They went after Reel more than they did me."

…

"Tus?" The young guard he'd taken as his own turned the corner into the bedroom he was preparing, making the bed, hanging the new tunics in the wardrobe, ensuring the lamps were lit, making sure they had enough sleeping drought to get them through the month. The Power in question looks up from folding the trousers silently, smiling at the young guard in greeting, beckoning him forward. "Tus, what are you doing?"

"I'm preparing a room for our two new young ones."

"Who?"

He finishes folding the trousers, places them within the wardrobe on their assigned shelf, and closes the door gently. "Abner and Gadreel. They need a safe, quiet place to recover, and seeing as I'm head of the Guards I chose for them to come here."

Andre's eyes widened in surprise. "Gadreel _and _Abner?"

"Yes," the Power nods gently. "Both of them. They have been through something quite traumatic and need somewhere stable to begin to heal."

"Titus."

Both Power and guard turn at the voice. Oren stands in the door way, cradling one of the new companions in his arms, the other standing at his side, clutching at the other sentry's hand tightly. The one at his side watches them carefully, eyes distrusting but hopeful, the one in his arms half asleep, barely away of his surroundings, from what Titus has heard, they keep the younger of the two pretty sedated.

The Power gestures them forward. "Here, here," he pulls the blankets down for them. "Set him here." Oren nods, stepping into the room, keeping his pace slow as to not break their connection as the other sentry limps at his side slowly. The younger whimpers softly, and he coos down at him softly as he bends to set him on the bed, stepping aside for his brother to slide in with him. "It's alright, Reel, let me get you tucked in and you can have some of your tonic." Abner settles on his side, pulling the younger sentry closer to him, Gadreel whimpers again, his hand shakes lightly as he reaches out to clutch at his older brothers tunic. The Virtue's Captain tucks the blanket up under his chin, fishing in his pocket for two vials, he kneels again, cupping the back of his head, he presses the first one to the younger's lip. "Here you are."

He drinks it in two gulps, shivers softly, and settles down against the older sentry quietly as his eyes flutter closed.

Oren holds one out to the other. "Here, Abner, yours too."

Abner takes the vial quietly, downing the concoction in one gulp, and barely manages to pass it back before his eyes start fluttering.

The all watch as they two of them curl up together.

Oren smiles at them for a moment, before turning to the Power behind them, Titus smiles at the sight they make. "Alright, they should be out for a while, it's a strong sleeping drought." The Power nods attentively. "Gadreel needs to take the pain reliever and the sleeping drought every four hours, his wounds are more extensive then Abner's are, we've been keeping him pretty sedated while his wings heal." The captain of the Guards nods, paying apt attention to the instructions. "Under no circumstance is he to walk on his feet, the skin of his soles has been flayed down two and a half layers, the flesh is too raw for any heavy weight." He smirks slightly as he gazes at his good friend. "You'll have to put those muscles to use, Tus." Titus shoves him in the shoulder, and they share a soft laugh. "Abner doesn't sleep during the night, he needs to take a sleeping drought before bed, we've been giving it to him after supper, so he gets plenty of sleep." He nods, going through his mental checklist to ensure he hasn't forgotten anything, and he nods slightly. "Oh, and they're not to be separated, Gadreel panics if he can't touch Abner, they always have to be able to touch each other, at least hold each other's hands." He looks up as he thinks. "Oh, and, Reel's bandages have to be changed once a day to avoid infection. Akriel will come in the morning to see them, they've been talking for the duration of their stay with us, and their meetings will continue for some time still."

He nods, knowing that he covered everything, and turns back to watch them for another moment. Their peaceful expressions, the gentle rise and fall of their shoulders, the younger sentry's fingers curled limply in the elders tunic. "And make sure to show them love, lots and lots of love, they need as much of it as they can get."

Titus nods, stepping up to meet at his side, Andre following him, and they watch the two freed sentry's sleep peacefully unaware of their audience. "They'll be well taken care of."


	73. Of Half Cocked Rescue Missions

"Sasha, they should have been back by now."

Paul pulled his feet back from the Captain's desk, taking advantage of him not being there by resting his feet on the desk, without having someone there to tell him to take his feet off, but now he was getting worried. Nisroc should have been back _yesterday_, and he still wasn't, they were growing worried.

"He said he'd be back in a week, and that week ended yesterday," his younger brother rubs at his chin lightly. "I agree. They should have."

"Titus still isn't back either." Andre walked into their Captain's office worriedly, he missed his guardian, hence the reason they saw him wearing one of his tunics. He came to stand next to Sasha, crossing his arms lightly, he tapped his forearm with the fingers of his left hand nervously. "Do you think something happened to them?"

"Maybe," Sasha looks between them. "But it would have to be a _powerful _adversary to take them all on and succeed."

"True." Paul nods as he kicks his feet off his guardian's desk, stomping them down on the stone floor underneath them, reaching down to adjust the straps on his boots, tighten them before he tripped, so he didn't have to listen to that little voice in the back of his head that sounded like Nisroc telling him he _'should have tightened the straps on his boots'_. He wasn't even there, and he was nagging him on taking care of himself. "Or, they were caught by surprise. Anyone's easily defeated if their caught by surprise."

"I hope they're okay." Paul snorted at Donavon's appearance, he was wearing one of Puriel's vests, it was much too big on him, and it amused him to no end. He balled up a piece of paper and threw it at the Captain's oldest charge, Paul caught it easily, tossing it back around at him. "I'm sure they are, I mean, they have Puri and the Virtues, they'd be able to patch up any wound."

"Sure," Donavon nodded, coming to stand next to Andre. "Unless they don't have the necessary supplies. _And, _Puriel didn't take his sword."

"He didn't take _what_?" Andre and Sasha turn to look at him, Paul staring at up at him, and he nodded. "It was supposed to be a simple recon mission, he wasn't even asked to go with them, he went of his own accord because he's a worry wart." He shrugs slightly. "So, he didn't think he'd need it."

"We should go get them!" Paul curled the fingers of his right hand into a tight fist, banging it down harshly against the wooden desk before him. "No one messes with them but _us_!"

"Not including your twisted logic, Paul," Sasha holds up a finger. "But are you _crazy_?" He holds his hand up, straightening his other fingers, palm face his brother. "Nis would skin us _alive _if he found out we put ourselves in unnecessary danger, and I for one don't want to feel his wrath, so I come back to my previous statement." He tilts his head and throws his hands up. "Are you _crazy_!"

Paul grimaced, he hadn't thought about that, Nisroc would _not _be thrilled with that small fact. Despite their good intentions.

Beside him, Andre grimaced too, Sasha turned to look at him as he reached back to rub at his bottom as if feeling the phantom sting. Titus was a calm, understanding Power, he wasn't easy to anger, he had the patience of a Saint. But he also had a set of rules he was strict about, rules that were met with firm consequence if they were broken, and the first rule on that list was not putting oneself in unnecessary danger. He didn't know about the other Powers, but like Nisroc, Titus was a very _hand's on_ disciplinarian. He wasn't gentle either, it was a severe matter if one broke one of his rules, and he'd take the sheath of his sword and have you bare yourself over his desk and-Least to say Andre always thought twice on breaking his rules, and never did so intentionally. But this matter was different, Titus was in trouble, and he wanted to help him. "I agree, Titus would be, in the very least, greatly _displeased_."

"Puriel would not be happy either." Donavon shifts from foot to foot, looking down for a moment, and looked up with a cautious expression. "I don't know how you all get straightened out, but Puri is _firm _handed, I like to avoid making him angry at me."

"Guys, I get it, I do." Paul leans forward over the desk, crossing his arms under him. "I, myself, don't like the feeling of Nis's belt, but they _need _us now."

"Why don't we just tell one of the Archangel. They would be more then willing to go after them."

"That's an idea." The Captain's oldest charge nods. "But it's not personal to them. It's _personal _to us. This is something _we _have to do."

"We want it known that we don't approve of this half cocked rescue mission you're all planning rather openly." They all jump at the elder's voice, they're so quiet, they spend so much time in their room, they had forgotten that they were still in the Pavilion. All eyes turn to the doorway of the Captain's office, where the two elder Sentry's stood, they're still holding hands. Gadreel has healed enough to walk but is still working on talking to others outside of the duo that was Titus and Abner. And Akriel. Any of the Virtues really. Abner looks between them all carefully, his expression giving way to the disapproval they both felt, and all four boys averted their eyes away from his stern gaze. "But if you're going to go after them, you're going to need two things." He holds up one finger, "You're going to need someone to patch you up if you get injured." And holds up the second finger. "And something more than just training weapons."

"You mean…?"

"I can get you weapons from the Warriors Armory. Those would be better suited for your mission." He looks between them all. "But any wrath that becomes from this mission is yours to face alone. You all know how they'd feel about this." Abner turns his attention to Donavon, and the youth fidgets slightly, good, he should. "You can take Puriel's sword."

"I'm not supposed to touch it."

"It's a short sword, curved, it'll still be a bit large for you, but you'll handle it fine." Abner raises an eyebrow. "And you know you're not supposed to go on half cocked missions without the knowledge of an elder, yet, you're still going to do that."

"Technically speaking," Paul stands up slowly from the Captain's chair. "_You _guys are elders."

"And, _technically speaking_," the older sentry points a finger at the Power Captain's oldest boy. "We're not medically _cleared _to be giving you such permissions."

Paul points a finger right back at him, the others looking back and forth between them as they watched the conversation they were having. "Ah, _but_, you're not, _not_, medically cleared to give us permission."

"That makes no sense."

He whines softly, slouching inwards. "I knoooow."

Abner nods at him, he gets why Nisroc is so fond of the boy, he's highly amusing, word on the grapevine is that he had spent too much time with Haniel while he was growing up. It showed. He turns, pulling Gadreel around with him gently, and gestures for them to follow from over his shoulder. The Armory for the Warriors was where all the _real _weapons were kept, where the Power's kept their arsenal of weapons, only actual Warriors could get in. The door was locked, one needed to use their grace to get in, it was like a scanner or finger print pad, only the grace of a Warrior or Guard could open the door. Trainees were not allowed in, the locking mechanism wouldn't even respond to them, but once your grace in put in the mechanism, it was never taken out, the locking mechanism wouldn't respond to them but it would respond to Abner.

They gather around him as he leads them to the Armory door, peers at them from over his shoulder, and reaches forward to press his hand to the front of the stone door. The runes in the door slowly light up with amber colored grace, the locks built within click and tumble as they're undone from the latches, they gather closer around him, standing up on their toes to peer over his shoulders to see into the mysterious Armory that they ordinarily wouldn't have been granted access to.

"Welcome to the _real _Armory."

"This is _amazing_!" They follow him inside, staring and looking about in awe, the rooms filled to the brim with weapons. Maces, lances, swords, bows, spears, short swords, long swords, scythes, daggers, every weapon one could imagine was within these walls. "Why are all the weapons kept in _here?"_

"Because we don't want them to fall into the wrong hands."

"Oh, in case of an ambush."

"No." They come to stand before a set of large wooden cubby's. "In case any _genius _younglings get any good ideas."

"We resent that."

Abner turns to look at the Captain's youngest charge. "No, you _represent _that."

"Hey," Andre steps forward, between Paul and Donavon, and runs his finger over the name plate on one of the cubbies. "This has Tus's name on it."

"Very good." Abner gestures to the row of six cubbies. "These are their personal racks. I figure if your going to save them you may as well borrow from them too."

The sentry points at the medic's boy. "You take his sword." Donavon nods, stepping forward to the rack, taking the sword from its place.

Then, he points to the Captain's two charges. "Nisroc has a set of short swords, one for each of you, they're the same, no fighting over them." They both exchange a look, Paul bows and gestures his younger brother forward with a sweep of his arm, Sasha elbows him in the side lightly.

"Here, Andre," they'd been introduced by Titus after the first week of them opening up to him, if they were going to be staying under the Guard captain's watchful eyes, they'd have to have met his charge. Abner pulls Gadreel forward with him as he steps up to the young guard in training's side, reaching into the cubby for a belt of daggers. "Take these."

He turns to look at them all, sizing them each over carefully, and gives them a nod. "You've got your weapons. Now you need some healers."

…

"Hey, you guys." They look up at the call for their attention, sitting upon the stairs of the Infirmary, kicked out for having asked about the Virtues for the twentieth time within the last hour, they were getting more in the way then they were helping, so they were dismissed. "Hey."

"Hey, Paul." Araton waves at him, curling a hand over her eyes, to block out the bright sun as the four of them approach. The four of them eye the warriors in training curiously. "Where'd you get _real _weapons?"

"Abner helped us." Paul looks over his shoulders to the others behind him. "We're going to get our family back, you wanna come?"

Orion and Gzel exchange looks, the older sister looking up at them with scrutinizing eyes, as though waiting curiously, firmly, for their answer. "Can I beat people up?"

"Of course, you can."

That's all it really took to convince Gzel. "Okay, I'm in." Orion was not so easily convinced as her sister was, she rubbed her knees nervously, gazing between the Power's boys and her sister. Akriel wouldn't be happy with them for putting themselves into danger, he'd be right angry at them, and she didn't like making Akriel angry at her. He didn't do it often, nothing really warranted it, but doing _this _would most certainly be something that he would say warranted a trip over his knee. She didn't like being in that position. It hurt. "I don't know." She wrings her hands together. "Akriel won't be happy." The quiet little healer looks up to her sister. "He'll be very mad that we put ourselves in danger."

Gzel rubs her arm softly. "I'll protect you, Rio, no one'll get their hands on you."

"But he'll still be mad." Orion shakes her head. "I don't like it when he's mad."

"I'll tell him I goaded you into you and that you didn't want to do it."

She seemed to consider it, it would help if Gzel took the brunt of his anger, it would mean less consequence for her. Orion inhaled deeply, taking a deep sigh, and nodded her head in acquiesce. "Okay. I'll come."

Inca looks between them all, he knows what Oren would do if he found out he'd went along with this half cocked plan, but he missed his guardian. The week he'd been gone was one of the longest weeks of his life, he had to sleep all alone in their spacious bedroom, listening to every creek and bump in the night without the protection of the Captain there to keep the fright away. He was willing to take the risk of facing his anger if it meant getting him back. _'I'm in too.'_

They all turned to the little apothecary for her input, Araton looked between them all in equal turn, Zed wasn't someone you wanted to upset, and putting herself into danger by doing this would most certainly upset him. But at the same time, something had happened that brought him to capture, he needed her now, he needed _her _help. She was willing to take the risk of upsetting him if it meant getting him back. "I'll come too."

Donavon smiles at them. "Awesome, grab what you need, we have to get out of here before anyone notices our disappearance."

The four healers nod in sync, jumping from the stair that lounged on, and ran back up to disappear inside the Infirmary. The Power's charges looked around, as if to see if anyone had noticed anything out of place, and in order to watch to ensure nothing became of it if they did notice something was out of place.

They didn't have to wait long, the others came running back down the steps after a few minutes, the items they had gone for in hand. Orion had Akriel's daggers secured around her waist. Inca had Oren's short sword in hand. Araton had a satchel hanging over her shoulder.

They all looked at her oddly. They were going into battle and she brought a satchel.

"What?" She looks between them all curiously. "I'm working on some new things and I want to see how they work out."

…

"Something's going on out there."

They curled their fingers around the bars of their prison, the only thing keeping them from seeing what was going on before them was the door, it was a pathetic prison of a cell, it was the simplest of things that kept them from breaking free of their prison.

The cuffs around their wrists kept them powerless, they were basically human, there was nothing they could do.

"I hope my girls are okay." They all turned to look at the mental specialist, leaning forward on his knees, his head resting on his palms. "I promised to be back two days ago."

"I'm sure they're fine, Ak," Ephraim rubs his shoulder gently. "They're strong girls. They'll be excited to see you no matter the day you return."

"I hope Paul hasn't done something stupid that could endanger his life and everyone else's." They all turned to look at the Power's Captain, leaning against the bars of their cell, fingers curls loosely around two bars. He looks over at them at the silence behind him. "I know my charges _very _well."

"Someone's touching my sword." Puriel straightens, it's like someone is touching his grace, and their squeezing it rather firmly too, it's a bit uncomfortable. Oren straightens next to him. "Someone's touching my sword as well."

The thing with their swords, their a_ctual _swords, is that it's infused with their grace. That's how they can control it so fluidly, it is literally an extension of them, it's a part of them.

"I miss Araton." Zeb's fingers tightened around the bars of their cell. "I wish I could see her."

The door opened and someone slipped in, the door clicking shut softly behind them, and a shadow crossed over the far wall.

They all jumped up, crowding around the bars of their cell, trying to make out the figure creeping around. "Who's there!"

The shadow froze for a moment, and stepped out of the darkness, Zed's eyes widen in surprise and wonder's for a moment if his Father has a twisted sense of humor. "_Araton?"_

The little apothecary comes to stand in front of her master, smiling up at him in greeting, and he stares down at her with wide eyes. "Hi, Z." He reaches through the bars, cradling her face in his hands, rubbing her cheeks with his thumbs. "Ara, what on earth are you _doing _here?"

"Well, my job is to get you guys out, the others are keeping everyone else distracted."

"What do yo—"

"Okay, hold still, I don't know what this stuff will do if it touches your skin."

"Wha-"

She looks down, digging through her satchel for the vials she brought, pulling out a bright green concoction and poured just a bit of it on the cuffs curled around his wrists. He watched in fascination as the metal slowly began to sizzle, and he was able to pull them off before the toxic mixture managed to touch his skin, if it could melt metal, he didn't want to see what it could do to flesh and bone. "Araton, that is _amazing_."

Haniel shoved his hands out towards her. "Do me!"

"No, do me!" Constantine copied him.

She giggled softly, coming to stand before the Power, and dripped a few drops of her green mixture over the metal cuffs, before moving on to the Virtue. She did them in order, from where they stood, and then focused on the locking mechanism. They crowded around her, on the other side of the bars, as the little apothecary eyed the lock carefully.

Araton shrugs lightly, pouring the rest of her concoction over the lock, and they watched in fascination as it sizzled and melted away.

"Zed," Nisroc pats his shoulder lightly. "You're girl is amazing."

He smiles down at his little apprentice fondly. "I know she is."

She steps aside as the door swings open, and both the Virtues and the Powers step out, Zed cradles her cheek lightly as he comes to stand before her. "You all are in _so _much trouble."

…

Paul and Sasha started when two large hands appeared from above them, fingers curling around the hilts of the short swords, and lifted them up from their grasp, turning to look up in surprise, meeting the stern eyes of their guardian.

Nisroc smiled down at them in greeting. "Thank you for the aid. We'll talk more about this later." He nodded to the side. "Get behind me." They both nodded, not needing to be told twice, and quickly skirted around him to stand behind him, peering out from his sides.

Puriel and Oren took their swords back, nodding in the same manner, and they peered out from behind their respective guardian to watch the fray about to unfold.

"Thanks for the help." Akriel rubs his hand over Gzel's head, Orion hanging on to the back of his tunic, and turns back to their foe at hand. "But we'll take it from here."

…

The eight of them looked to their feet in shame, under the stern gazes of their respective Archangels, not daring attempt a glance lest they see the angry burning in their eyes.

"Of all the _foolish _and _dangerous _things, you all could think to do," Michael looked between each one of them. "You decide it _wise _to go after a foe strong enough to capture not only my Powers, but Raphael's Virtues as well?"

"Do you realize how dangerous that was?" Raphael was just as angry as Michael was, but his anger was a soft anger, a slow simmering anger. "You could have gotten yourselves killed."

Their guardians stood behind them, their hands resting gently on their shoulders, a solid piece of evidence that they were not alone in this.

Michael exchanged a look with his brother, and they share a nod, crossing their arms as they both turn to peer back at their young flock members. "We think it best, given the circumstance, if your guardians deal with this matter."


	74. Baby Steps

He watched the Power poke his brother in the belly, in the side, again in the belly, making him giggle like he was a fledgling again. He was happy that someone could make his brother sound like that again, Abner deserved to be treated with kindness, made to feel like he was loved, like he was someone's younger brother. He took such good care of him, letting him sleep curled up against his side, holding his hand everywhere they went, doing his talking for him when Akriel came every afternoon.

It had been in the morning when he'd come, but they had trouble waking up that early, so Titus asked him to come in the afternoon.

He treated him so good, and never complained about it, letting him hang onto him as much as he wanted. Abner rubbed at his wing joints when they started to ache, he held his hand when it came time to change the bandages, he helped him get dressed in the morning.

He was an invalid.

A burden placed upon the older Sentry.

"Okay, okay, okay," he giggled brightly as he swatted at his old guardians fingers. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"You know what happens when you get cheeky with me."

"Tus! Tus!" The Older sentry kicks at him. "It won't happen again! It won't!"

"See that it doesn't." The Power lean's back, chuckling softly at the giggling mess he's made of his grown charge, some things would never change.

Abner sat up, leaning back against the pillows, rubbing at his belly and sides to rid himself of the remaining tingles. He inhales deeply, turning to gaze at his younger brother, and he sobers up quickly. "Gaddy, what's wrong?" The younger sentry shakes his head softly and looks down to his knees. "No, Gaddy, you have to use your words. Remember," he reaches over to tug on his younger brother's sleeve. "You have to talk to me. That's what Akriel said. You have to use your words."

Titus watched them closely, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking between them both carefully. Gadreel was getting better with having him around, he wasn't hiding away against the older sentry when he was around anymore, but they were still working on him using his words around others.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, baby brother, there's nothing to be sorry for." He pats the spot between his legs, adjusting his position slightly as the younger sentry crawled forward to sit in front of him, his legs crossed before him, he stretched his legs out around him. "We've talked about that."

Gadreel looks down, and he pokes him in the side lightly, smiling when the younger sentry jolted softly, a light breathy giggle escaping him. "Did you want to play too, baby brother?" He pokes him in his other side, and he twitches, giggling again. "You can play too." The Power smiles at the small giggles that come from the younger sentry. Abner rests his chin on the young sentry's shoulder. "Is it okay if Tus plays too?"

He looks up at the Power, he's always been kind, he sits with him until his sleeping drought kicks in and reads to him when he has trouble falling asleep, he'd stayed with him when Abner had to go to the Infirmary again on his own to see Akriel.

The young sentry nods softly, giggling again when the Power leans forward and pokes him in the belly, pressing back against his older brother when they poke him at the same time.

Baby steps.


	75. Father Meets Son

_The Healer turned to spare the boy a look from over his shoulder. "And I will be telling your father about this, Avon."_

He knew upon first meeting who the boy's father was, their resemblance was uncanny, he had his father's eyes, the same color hair, they even wore it in the same fashion. Part of him was sure that he didn't know he had a son, he wasn't known to ignore those that needed him, and this boy very _clearly_ needed him. Avon was a good boy, it was obvious about him, he was just misguided. He needed someone to set him back on the right path again, and while he would be more than happy to do so himself, he figured it would be better suited for the boy's father do be the one to do so.

It would leave a more lasting impression.

First things first, to set this boy back on the straight and narrow path, was to enlighten the boys father on his wellbeing.

Healers parted as he strode down the length his Infirmary, night was beginning to set in, the younger healers were being relieved from their duties by the elder to head on to bed. The lanterns were self-lighting along the walls, the sun slowly setting to the west, the moon slowly rising in its place. The query he was after sat at his desk, candles alit over his desk as he finally got to work on his paperwork, so long as he did it, he didn't really mind how it got done.

"Akriel," he smiled in greeting when one of his little charges sat up from leaning against his other side, he hadn't even seen her, Orion smiled up at him in return. "Akriel, can I have a word with you in my office?"

"Am I in trouble?"

The archangels eyes narrow slightly at the unusual question. "Should you be?"

"Not that I know of."

Raphael sighed deeply, shaking his head. "Then you are not in trouble." He nodded towards his office. "I just wish to have a word with you."

"Alright," Akriel turns to his young charge on his other side, stroking a hand down the side of her head. "Go on up to bed." Orion nods, excusing herself quietly, and disappears into the crowds of healers milling about during the shift change. He stands from his desk, following dutifully at the Archangel's beckoning, and steps into the archangel's office as he closes the door behind him. "Is everything alright?"

The mental specialist comes to sit in one of the chairs across the other side of the archangels desk, as Raphael sat on the other side of his desk, leaning back in his chair. "Everything is as fine as it can be." He was never one to beat around the bush. "Akriel, did you have a human lover?"

"I—I—" His mouth opened and closed for a brief moment, flabbergasted by the direct request, the direct inquiry. "I don't—I don't see how that's any of your business. My work was never affected."

Raphael raises an eyebrow at the defensiveness, boarder lining on rude, response to his question. "So you did."

"I—I" Akriel nods lightly. "Perhaps I did, but I don't see the reasoning for such a question, we haven't seen each other in decades."

"I'm not judging you, Ak." The archangel leans forward. "If I were to judge anyone for having a lover, I would have to start with myself first, I am not frowning at your choice of relationship."

"Then, what does—"

"You have a son."

Akriel stares at him, his eyes wide, mouth hanging slightly ajar, caught off guard by such a statement being made. Raphael nods lightly, crossing his arms over the top of his desk as he leans forward, watching his Virtue's reaction carefully, to the sudden shock of someone finding out they have a child.

"I—I…._What_?"

"You have a son." He taps the top of his desk with the fingers of his right hand. "His name is Avon. He appears to be around the age of fifteen. He looks quite like you do, the resemblance is uncanny, you could be brothers if I didn't know any better."

"I have—I—"

"And, if I might say, he's in need of a _firm _hand to the rear end, if I do say so myself."

Akriel blinks, his mind still trying to wrap around the fact that he had a son, and then for his Archangel to say something along those lines, it was enough to bring anyone's mind to a stunned halt. "A firm hand?" he tilts his head slightly. "Has he done something wrong?"

"Done something wrong, indeed." The Healer nods at him lightly. "You know of this _'war'_ the young Nephilim are fighting, don't you?" He snorts lightly. "Though, it would be more appropriate to say, their fighting for parental attention." Akriel nods silently. "Your boy decided he wanted to be on the side causing the trouble." He rubs his chin lightly, thoughtfully. "I'd say, all they need is a firm smack to their back ends, that's never hurt anyone, and then be sent to bed."

"Sir, with all due respect, you think that about all misbehaving young ones."

"Ahh," the Healer points a finger at him. "But I've never been wrong."

"He's been causing trouble?"

"Yes." His archangel nods lightly. "You know of my daughters friends?" Akriel nods, his younger sister talks about them all often, none so much as her best friend, Ava, though. "They are keeping him as their prisoner at the moment."

"Can I…" The trauma specialist rubs at his cheek lightly. "Can I _meet _him?"

"I was hoping you'd ask."

…

He couldn't help but stare at the boy when they appeared at his side, the chains around his ankles rattled as he jumped away from the archangel, hands coming around to protect his rear, not wanting to meet the end of the Healer's staff again. "No, _no_, I've just been sitting here!"

Raphael smiles at the boy, adjusting his hold on his staff. "Relax, boy, it's not my temper you should be concerned with." He turns to look at the angel standing at his right shoulder. "I told you I would tell your father."

"But I don't…" Avon turns from the archangel to the man at his shoulder, similar colored eyes meet, and the man smiles at him. "You look so much like your mother."

Akriel didn't much see what his archangel saw, the boy looked more like his mother did, he had her nose and her ears, he looked so much like she did.

The boy stares at him. "_You're _my dad?"

"That would make you my son." The Angel smiles at him. He's never had a son before, he's never had a child that was actually _his_, sure, he considers Orion and Gzel his, but at the end of the day, and under the technicality that was their family, they were technically his younger sisters. But this boy, the one before them, was his. He had helped make him. This was a little part of him. "My little baby boy."

Avon narrows his eyes at him, hands slowly coming back from behind him, hanging limply at his sides. "I'm _not _a baby."

"I beg to differ." The Virtue tilts his head at him, taking him in for all he was worth, not wanting to miss a single hair on his head. "You'll always be my baby. My baby boy."

"I think I'll leave you two to it." Raphael nods at them both, winking at the boy fondly, Avon may need a bit of firm redirection, but he was still a good boy. "Akriel." He looks to his Virtue, and his specialist turns to meet his eyes. "Stay as long as you need."

Akriel nods, turning back to his boy, and smiles at him kindly. The faint ruffle of feathers is the only indication that his Archangel has left them their privacy. "You look so familiar to me, but I barely know you, would you tell me about yourself?"

His son doesn't move an inch from where he retreated to. "Why didn't you ever come get me?" He crosses his arms over his thin chest. "None of this would have happened if you hadn't left me."

"Don't think to put blame for your behavior on me." He points a finger at the boy in warning. "Surely your mother taught you the difference between right and wrong, you didn't need me for that," he cringes though in guilt. "Though I do regret not coming to see you, I did not know you existed until a few minutes ago, if I had, well, _you_ would never have gotten this far in your measly little squabble as you are."

"Hey," the boy sounds a tad bit offended. "I'm an _important_ member!"

"Be that as it may." The Virtue points a finger at him sternly. "_You _are going to _withdraw_ your position."

"You can't just come and start ordering me about!"

"First, you are upset I did not come for you." Akriel crosses his arms loosely. "_Now, _you are upset that I have." He shakes his head. "You'll come with me. Where I may know you are not getting into any more trouble."

Avon crosses his arms stubbornly, he wasn't taking to someone coming in and tell him what he was about to do rather well, it was a contradiction, he had to know that having a parent alive and able to keep up with him would mean that rules would be implemented, he wanted his father to have had come for him, and yet he didn't want what came with it.

Well, one couldn't have the best of both worlds.

"I'm not coming anywhere with _you_."

"He was right," Akriel nods slightly, his hands coming to the buckle keeping his belt together, Avon watched him with wide eyes as he carefully undid the buckle and pulled the belt around to his right hand, doubling it over, it's an old leather belt, built well, he's had it for quite some time and he'd still have it for some time to come. "You _do_ need a firmer hand."

Avon's eyes widened, and he jumped back, backtracking as much as he could with chains linked around his ankles. "No! _No! _Okay, I'll come! I'll come!" His dad shakes his head as he crosses the dungeon he's kept in with ease. "No, no, you said none of this would have happened if I had only come for you, and you're right, it wouldn't have, let me show you what I would have done had I found out sooner."

"No! Don't you dare! Stay away from me!"

Being trapped in chains only allowed you so much room to roam, he nearly stumbled over backwards when the leeway in the chains was pulled tight and his range of motion was drawn to a sudden stop. His backtracking might have come to a stop, but his father's advance did not, his hand was big, his fingers long, when they curled around his upper arm firmly.

"This is what I would have done." He stumbles as he's tugged around, there's no time for him to react, other then his eyes widening, when he swings his belt back and brings it back around with the same harshness that the archangel had swung his staff around.

The young Nephilim yowls at the stinging thrash from the leather belt, jumping in place, his back arches, as he tries to jump away from the sting, as the belt swings back again. But he can't move, not only is he at the end of his chain, the hand curled around his right upper arm keeps him in place, keeping him from jumping away when the belt thrashes down again. "Oooowwwwww!" He fumbles, his hands shaking as he throws them back, trying to protect his rear end from another stinging thrash from the belt. "No more! No more!"

"Move your hands."

"Dad! _Dad_! No! No, I'll go!"

"If you don't move your hands, I will move them for you, tug down your jeans, and we will continue this over your bare end."

"No!" Avon shakes his head frantically. "No, I don't want that!"

"Then you better move your hands."

He moves his hands, pulling them back around quickly, howling when the belt is brought down for a firmer thrash, and it lifts him from his feet. He jumps, howling at the impact, his hands flying back again as though with minds of their own.

"You know," despite his precarious position and the current happenings within his prison, his father's tone is still light, it's still kind. "I don't like having to do this." He turns, tugging his young son forward with him. "So, let's make sure this is a lasting impression."

His eyes widen at the implications of that statement, but what with being chained at the ankles, and his father's grip on his upper arm, he can't do much but shuffle forward with him. Akriel sits heavily on the stone chair that sits in the center of this prison, curls the belt over his left thigh, and yanks his son around to stand before him, around to face away, and swats his hands away. Avon looks down, eyes wide, as arms circle around him to his front, fingers curl around the button of his jeans.

The façade of disrespectful toughness fades away into a soft whine when fingers curl in the waist of his jeans and shimmy them down. _"...Daddy…."_ It's a soft, little cry that almost breaks his resolve. But the sooner they get these boundaries drawn, the sooner they can begin to move forward. Hands guide him around softly, and he looks down at his father's thigh. "Over."

He shakes his head pitifully.

"Come on, baby boy, over." A hand pats his bare cheek lightly and he flinches. "The sooner it starts, the sooner it ends."

Avon whines softly, bending forward to drape himself over the tall angel's thigh, his chains rattle softly over the stone floor and then fall silent. A hand presses to his lower back, a semblance of comfort, and something to keep him in place. He knows the belts taken back up, he feels it press to his bare bottom, and then it's pulled back. He takes a deep breath and holds it in.

_Thwap!_

The Nephilim boy howls loudly, kicking his legs out, at the firm, harsh smack of the belt against his bare end. He feels the slight shift in his father's leg as he pulls it back again, and then the slight shift as it comes back, and he howls again.

By the fourth harsh thrash he's unashamedly sobbing into his hands, jolting with every thrash that follows, kicking his legs, feeling like he's that little chubby boy being reprimanded by his mom again for getting into another fight with the other kids in their village. Except this time, it's not by his mom, his mom is long gone, this time it's by his _dad's _hand.

Or, in this case, belt.

"When I tell you that you are doing something, what are you going to do?"

"OW! OW! _Daddy_! I'm gonna do it! I'm gonna do IT!"

"And, what are you _not _going to do?"

"Please! _Daddy_, please!"

A harsher thrash. "Avon."

"OW! OWW! Daddy! _Daddy! _Fight you! I won't fight you!"

"Good boy." He jolts, kicking his legs, when the leather belt presses to his burning bottom. "So, what are you going to do now, little boy?"

"I—I'm gonna come wi—with you!"

"Good boy." The hand on his lower back scratches at the skin lightly. "Very good boy." The hand on his lower back reaches up to rub at the back of his head, and he feels his father bend forward, his stomach presses against his burning right cheek. "Hold still, I'm going to unchain you." After a moment, he feels the weight from the chains around his ankles loosen, and then they rattle as they're thrown back, away from him, he's free. "I'm going to help you up, alright?" He sniffles, rubbing at his face, and nods softly.

Once he's on his feet, Avon rubs pitifully at his burning rear end, and his father stands from the stone chair to rewind his belt around his waist. Pitifully, he pulls his jeans back up, biting back a whine as they come to cover his beaten bottom, and does the button up again.

"Let me see you." His belt back in place, the mental specialist curls the fingers of his right hand around his sons right cheek, and then the same with the left. Avon looks pitiful, to say the least, eyes red and puffy, cheeks red and covered in tear tracks, the tip of his nose red and warm, and his bright eyes look up at him. "You look as pitiful as a scolded puppy." Avon giggles softly, it's a wet giggle, soft, a bit of a hiccup at the end, but it makes his father beam all the same. "C'mere you."

He's pulled close, Avon curls his arms around him as best as he can, fingers curling tightly into the back of his tunic, as his dad wraps him up in a warm, comforting embrace. His dad is warm, solid, strong, he smells like peppermint, and he's there. It's been so long since he's had somebody hold him in their arms like this, one arm wrapped around his lower back, a hand cradling the back of his head, pressed against a comforting body of someone who's there for _him_. Fingers scratch at the back of his head. "You look like you could use a warm hug."

Avon snuffles miserably and nuzzles closer, he never wants those arms to let him go again, they're heavy, but not too heavy, and they're strong, and warm. The curl around him completely, he's a small, skinny little thing, tiny compared to how big his father is.

Fingers scratch at the back of his head again. "You're going to have nothing to do with this childish squabble, not any more, you're coming with me." He nods as he nuzzles closer, as long as he holds him in his arms like this, he'll go wherever he's told to. "Where I can keep my eye on you." His father's chest rumbles when he chuckles. "You'll share the bed with me, until this little war of yours passes, and we get you a room set up here in the Ancient City." He closes his eyes against his dad's chest. "You'll get to meet your sisters, of course."

Avon opens his eyes, pulling away slightly, recoiling from the comfort that's being offered second hand to him. "_Sisters?"_

He nods, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "Sisters. Older sisters." He pulls him back in again. "Come back here, you, I'm not done hugging you yet." Avon lets himself be pulled back into the hug, this time his arms hang loosely, this is just a 'left over' hug, it's not original, it's not _his_, it's a _'hand me down'_ hug. "Oh, don't be so stiff, this hug is your hug, and yours alone." Avon looks up at him, and he smiles, gazing down at him fondly. "I'm good at reading people."

"My hug?"

"All yours, baby boy."

Avon smiles slightly, curling back against his dad, feeling those arms tighten around him again, that hand rub at the back of his head. "I'm not a baby, dad."

"Sure, you are." Fingers curl around his head, moving over to tug softly at his ear. "You're _my _baby."

"I'm your baby?"

"My baby." His dad presses a kiss to his forehead. "My baby boy."

Akriel holds him close for a few more minutes, rubbing at the back of his head, letting his nerves settle down again into something more relaxed. "Do they feed you here?"

He nods slightly. "Twice a day."

"Twice?" His thumb rubs against the base of his neck. "Are you hungry?"

He shrugs. "Only a little bit."

"We'll get you a bite to eat before bed, then." Fingers scratch at the back of his neck lightly. "Are your ankles sore from the chains?"

"No." He shakes his head. "My butt hurts, though."

The chest under his ear rumbles as his dad chuckles lightly. "I'm sure it does. It was quite red, too."

"Dad!"

"I'm sorry, I won't tease you, too much." He makes his little boy giggle softly, poking him in the side playfully, and takes that down as a mental notation to explore more at a later time. "But I have to a little bit, it's one of my many jobs, especially to my children."

"I'm happy I got to meet you, dad."

"I'm happy I got to meet you too, son."

Akriel kisses his head, caressing his cheek lightly as he pulls him back a bit, smiling down at him adoringly. "Let's get home, we'll get you a bite to eat, cleaned up, and into bed."

"Into bed?"

"Of course." He rubs his cheek lightly. "Did you think I'd make you sleep on the hard floor? No, you'll sleep in a nice warm bed, soft mattress, silky smooth quilts, nice fluffy pillow under your head." He tugs at his ear softly. "Sound nice?" For someone who's been sleeping on a cold stone floor for the past couple weeks, the quilt alone sounds nice, but everything all together makes him sway slightly at the thought of it.

Avon nods softly. "That sounds great, dad."

"Then, what are we waiting for?" The Virtue brushes his thumb over his cheek lightly. "Let's get you home."

"Home?"

"Home, baby boy, let's get you home."


	76. Making Progress

"How are they doing?"

"They're doing well." He leads the Virtue across the training field, spying his own squadron learning under Abraxos' command, towards the room gifted to their two sentrys over a month ago. "Reel is slowly opening up. Abner is returning to his old self, Gadreel is having a harder time, but from what I hear," Titus spares the mental specialist a glance, "that's to be expected."

"It is, his experience was drastically different then the one Abner had, it was an expectation that someone would come for the elder of the two at some point." Akriel spares him a glance as he looks up from their path across the training field. "The same could not have been said for the younger. He was theirs to do with what they wanted." He looks back down again, watching his footing carefully. "Has he talked any?"

"He doesn't say much, not to me anyhow, from what Abner says though, they hold regular conversations."

"Gadreel trusts Abner more then he trusts anyone else. That makes sense."

They step up on the stone veranda of the Pavilion, crossing languidly to the stairs that lead up to the home of the Powers. "Has he let you touch him without flinching?" Akriel sounds curious, perhaps a tad worried, and they share another look.

Titus nods softly. "He sits between Abner's legs and I poke him in the belly and sides."

"He lets you poke him in the belly and the sides?"

"He does," he smiles at the Virtue. "And, he giggles like a fledgling."

"That's wonderful, Tus, truly." Akriel pats his arm lightly. "He's opening up to you. It's a sign of trust he's gifted to you."

"I cherish that inkling beyond words."

They take the stairs one at a time. "Nurture that sliver, it's good that he has Abner whom he can trust, but for him to have another soul he gives himself to would aid him beyond measure."

"I will take heed." Titus leads him down the hall to their sentry's room is located, across from his, next door to Puriel's. "And make sure not to move too fast."

They share a nod, and fall silent as the Power knocks lightly on the door, waiting for the soft voice of the older Sentry to call out and grant them entrance. Titus opens the door slowly, they both peer inside, smiling at the two sentry's in the bed. Abner is the only one who returns their smiles, Gadreel is resting peacefully against Abner's side, his head cushioned on his arm.

Akriel smiles at them as he takes the chair from the desk and turns it around, setting it near the edge of the bed, he leans forward and runs his fingers through Abner's hair. "It is usually the other way around when I come to visit."

"Yea, well," the sentry shrugs lightly. "I fell asleep early last night. He was up later. I could feel him tossing and turning."

He frowns in worry, looking down to the younger sentry, careful not to touch him. Gadreel rested on a hair trigger, the slightest of touches would wake him in a panic, and that was the last thing they needed. "Did he say what was the matter?"

Abner shakes his head slightly. "He fell asleep and has been down since then." He looks down at his sleeping younger brother. "I can wake him if you need."

The Virtue shakes his head. "No, no, let him sleep."

Abner nodded, settling back in his bed, smiling when the younger sentry nuzzled his cheek against his arm and settled in deeper. He stroked his fingers through his hair lightly, to settle him back down, and looked back up to the Virtue sitting across from him.

"Well, seeing as you're awake, in this odd turn of events, we can talk this morning."

"But what if we wake Gaddy?" Abner rubs his fingers over the sleeping sentry's forehead, smiling when his nose twitches cutely, and leans back against his pillows. "He needs his sleep."

"You're not getting out of this, Abner." He points a finger at the older sentry in warning. "We'll talk quietly."

"It wouldn't be me if I didn't try to get out of it."

"If you need convincing," he gestures to the Power leaning against the doorframe. "I'm sure Titus would be happy to oblige." The young man in the bed looks over his head, to the Power behind him, and the tall angel wiggles his fingers at him playfully. Abner's eyes widen, and he shakes his head quickly, looking back to the Virtue with wide eyes. "I think I'm good."

"If you're sure."

"I'm quite sure."

Akriel nods, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms loosely about his chest. "Tell me, have you been having any more nightmares?"

He shakes his head, pauses a moment, and then nods a slow nod. "Sometimes. Sometimes I'll be back there, curled up in my corner, the sound of the thick boots coming down the hall to come get me. And then….And then it just hurts."

"What hurts?"

"I don't know." He looks down to his lap. _"Everything." _He shrugs lightly. "It just _hurts_."

"Okay, then what happens?"

Abner picks at the quilt over his legs, looks down at his sleeping younger brother, and then back to the quilt. "And then the key rattles in the gate, I can't see who it is, I don't dare look up at it, but the gate opens and someone steps in and…..and that's it."

"That's it?"

"That's when I wake him up." He looks over his shoulder to the Power, and Titus nods, looking over to his grown charge. "He starts crying out, I can hear him across the hall, I come and wake him up."

"Okay, you wake up, then what?"

Abner sighs. "And it all just hurts. I don't know what else to say about it. It just hurts."

"How do you get it to stop hurting?"

He nods to his old guardian. "Tus rubs it away."

The Virtue looks over his shoulder again for clarification, and Titus nods. "He complains that his back hurts. I help by rubbing the phantom ache away."

Titus knew all about phantom pains, his shoulder acted up frequently, the muscle tightening of its own accord, leaving it to be massaged into release again.

Akriel looks down to the sleeping sentry. "What about Gadreel?"

"Sometimes his feet start to hurt." Abner rubs at his brothers head gently. "Tus rubs his feet when they do until the ache passes."

"And he allows him to?"

He nods lightly. "As long as I'm here, he lets Tus touch him, cautiously at first, but he warms up to the touch after a minute."


	77. The Heart Of The Garden

_"What do you want?"_

_Her back is to him, her picking of flowers having come to a sudden halt, at the sound of his appearance behind her. She's grown accustom to her life living in solitude, he hasn't see her small little bungalow and he doesn't think he'll get the opportunity, her long brown hair is braided with flowers interwoven in every other braid, a small whicker basket of flowers settled at her side. _

_"Can't I just come see my baby sister?"_

_"You never come unless you want something." She peers over her should at him, her eyes averted, but he can still see their vibrant violet. "So just say what you want."_

_"I need you to make me a poison."_

_"Okay." She turns back to picking her flowers again and he makes to leave her, until her soft voice calls out to him again. "Why don't you ever come because you just want me?"_

_"Eiael, I promise you, the next time I come to see you, it will be for you."_

_"Okay."_

_He vows to show up the disbelief that echoes in her tone._

…

It takes him longer then he had wanted it to, keeping his promise to his younger sister that he had made so long ago, he had never wanted this much time to pass before he finally got the opportunity to go in search for the long lost exiled younger sister that's always on his mind.

In a way, he had kept his promise, he hadn't returned to collect the poison he had requested from her.

"Joshua is waiting rather anxiously for our return."

The Healer met him at the gates, pulling him from his thoughts, and he turned to look at the younger archangel as he approached him. His staff clicked lightly against the stone walkway, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, they decided bringing their personal weapon with them was more in need then they weren't. One didn't know what they were walking into when going in search of a long lost family member that you haven't talked to in eons, much less _seen_, there was no telling what kind of reaction there would be from them.

"We are bringing her back today, brother." Michael turns to the gates. "I am not coming back without her."

"Joshua will not _allow _me to return without his girl." His brother comes to stand at his side. "We will bring her back."

The older archangel nods, sparing his brother a look. "Ready?"

"After you."

…

They knew where to search, she was just like her brother was, her love for the plants and fauna would only lead them to one place. The Amazon Rainforest was lush and green, the fauna growing proud and tall, and they looked around in curious wonder as they made their way over the many paths that led through the heart. Neither were sure what they were looking for, they had never seen what was made as her living arrangement, never seen where she had retreated to, they only ever saw her when they came to get something, they wanted from her, and usually in those times she was out picking her plants and flowers.

"This is beautiful." Raphael looked around at the fauna, up into the trees to see the monkeys swinging overhead, to the sky above at the wonderous birds that painted the sky with such color. "I can see why she would be drawn here."

"It is the only forest most similar to the Garden she grew up in," Michael agreed, looking around himself, trying to spy any sign that they were near some sort of destination. "It would feel most like home for her."

They climbed over an upturned tree trunk, bending at the knee slightly as they landed on steady footing, and continued on.

"The color is exquisite." The younger archangel kneeled slightly, touching his fingers lightly to a large, bright colored flower. "A true master piece." Michael stopped for him, the original Gardener was his brother, Raphael had always been captivated by the beauty that was found in nature, something he had passed down to one of his charges, the one that took over his place as Gardener, and it was something that he had passed down to his own charge. "Joshua would love it here."

"Joshua loves any forest. As long as there is a plant, he is captivated by it, even the simplest of gardens."

Raphael stands, elbowing his brother lightly in the ribs, and his older brother chuckles softly. "There is nothing wrong with loving a nice garden."

"I never said there was."

"You didn't have to."

They shared a smile and continued on, ducking under vines and sweeping branches, over trunks and logs, around boulders and winding trails, until they came upon a small clearing.

The two archangel stood at the edge of the clearing, hands coming up to shade their eyes from the bright gaze of the sun, as they surveyed the area around them. There, in the distance, was something that caught their eye. "What is that?"

Michael squinted against the glare of the sun above them. "It looks like it could be a hut."

"Let's get a closer look." Gripping his staff, the Healer led them forward, into the bright, warm clearing. They crossed through tall grass until they hit the actual heart of the clearing, where the grass shortened and patches of flowers swirled around them in an unseen design, wiping the sweat beading on his forehead, Michael kneeled next to a familiar basket.

Picked flowers were in the hold, bunched together in a small piled, snipped with keen precision as to replant them elsewhere. "We are in the right place."

"What makes you say that?"

He gestures to the basket, turning to look at his brother from over his shoulder, and the younger archangel followed his gesture. "This is her basket. She had it the last I saw her." He looked around them. "I doubt she would ever leave it behind without reason." Michael surveyed the land around them. "There is no sign of a struggle."

Raphael nodded in agreement. "There is no trampling in the grass, the flowers planted around us remain unharmed, no struggle, indeed." The silence around them was filled by the chirping of brightly colored birds, and he turned to gaze at the small hut just a few paces away. "Perhaps we should see if anyone is home?"

The older archangel curled the fingers of his right hand around the handle of the basket and nodded in agreement, standing back to his full height once more, he turned in the direction of the hut. "Let's see what lies inside." This time he leads them forward, the fingers of his left hand curling around the hilt of his sword tightly, he leans to the side to set the whicker basket on a small wooden bench just to the side of the cloth door, and gently sweeps the cloth aside to peer within. His fingers loosen from around the hilt of his sword, and he steps inside quickly, leaving the Healer in surprised silence. "Raphael, come quick."

The heat is lessoned now that they are in the shade that the hut offers, but it's still warm enough that their tunics stick to their backs from sweat, the Amazon was beautiful, but it was rather warm.

Their query lay haphazardly on a small mat of blankets, as though she had fallen there and hadn't been able to get back up, and the Healer crosses quickly to kneel at his side, setting his staff to lean against the wall of the small hut. "It appears she collapsed here." He presses the back of his fingers to her flushed cheeks, then to her forehead, frowning in disapproval. "She's burning up." Her face glistened with a sheen of sweat. "Possibly heatstroke." He eyed her attire disapprovingly, tight cloth trousers, a long sleeve deep green tunic that had seen better days, and a leather vest. He looked up, peering around the hut for anything that could be of use, and hummed when he spotted the thin night shirt hanging on a hook near them. "Michael, get me that tunic."

"The one for night?"

"Yes, that one." He begins the process of unthreading her thick leather vest. "Her body is too hot. We need to get her into something thinner." Michael nods, not needing to be told twice, and leaves them for a short moment to get the aforementioned tunic hanging just a step away. His brother has had practice in undressing unconscious patients, and has her soaked vest and tunic pulled up over her head by the time he returns, leaving her in her upper under garments. The Healer gestures at her lower half. "Get her out of her trousers." He takes the tunic he holds out to him and slips it over her head, winding her arms through the sleeve holes, they can't very well carry a naked young lady through the gates of Heaven for all to see.

Once their task is complete, he presses his hands to her face again, frowning deeper. "We have to get her cooled down." Curling one arm under her knees, and the other around her shoulders, he huffs as he stands from his kneeling position with her hanging limply in his arms. Her head lulls to the side, resting against his shoulder lightly, and he nods to his staff, indicating for the other archangel to take it with him. "Take my staff, I'll carry her, you burn too hot for her to handle in this state."

…

The Infirmary comes to a grinding halt at their entrance, all eyes on them, more precisely, on the young lady hanging limply in the Healer's arms in nothing but a night tunic. The Virtues all stare in shock, bedbound patients watch with mouths ajar, younger healers watch them with wide eyes. Only one soul moves, eyes wide, mouth ajar, he rushes forward for them, meeting them half way.

"Eia?" His pace quickens when she doesn't respond to his voice. "Eia!"

Their path forward is blocked by the Gardener, Joshua bends over her, pressing his hands to her warm, flushed cheeks, looking down at her worriedly. "Eia!"

"Joshua, she is going to be alright, but we have to get her cooled down, now." The Gardener nods lightly, stepping back for them to continue their path forward, following quickly at their heels. He will help, in any way, he will be at her side. Nothing, nothing short of Death himself, would keep him from her side again.

Raphael peers over his shoulder at the concerned Gardener, nodding in assurance, he turns back to his task at hand. "I need a tub of cool water, not cold, _cool_." No one moves, and he snaps. _"Now." _That gets them moving, two young healers rush away to fill a tub and carry it over to them, he sets her limp form down on a bed. Rolling his sleeves up, he feels her forehead again, humming disapprovingly.

"Here." He turns at his voice, smiling at Constantine as he comes to stand at his side, a bucket of water in hand, rags soaking in the cool liquid. "We can begin cooling her down until they can get the tub filled."

"Very good, yes, yes." They both take a large cloth from the bucket of water, rubbing it over her warm skin, trying to begin the cooling process. He rubs it over her face gently, circles around her cheeks, over her forehead, they curl a wet cloth around the back of her neck. Constantine rubs at her arms, her hands, each finger, then her legs, her thighs, calves, feet. "Joshua," he needs to get the Gardener to stop hovering, it's distracting, and he loath to say it, but he's only going to get in the way. "I need a new tunic for her."

"Send another healer for one, you have plenty at your disposal, I'm not leaving her."

He stands at her head, rubbing a cool cloth over her forehead, his eyes glued to hers. Urging them to open, he wants to see her brilliant violet eyes, just to gaze into them again.

"Joshua, I am not telling another one of my healers, I am telling you."

"And _I_ am telling you, I am not leaving, so bark up another tree."

The Healer turns, he doesn't have time for this, and takes hold of the Gardeners chin. "Joshua, I am _ordering _you to go get my a new tunic."

The passive Gardner's eyes flash dangerously, as beautiful as a rose, but as sharp as a thorn, he curls his fingers in the collar of his tunic and yanks down harshly until his hand is forced away and he stumbles slightly as he's forced around. Constantine pauses as he looks over at them with wide eyes, the others slowly come to circle around them in awe, as the Gardener's rarely seen temper flares drastically. "I am _not _leaving _my _Eia _alone _with the likes of an _Archangel_." Even their Archangel stares at him in stunned silence, it's so rarely seen, most think that the Gardener has no temper, but when it shows itself, it's nearly as volatile as the one who's raised him is. "Alright, Joshua, alright." He nods, speaking softly, passively, and curls his fingers around the fist curled in his collar. "You can stay, just let go."

Ephraim steps forward, trying to sooth the distraught Gardener, setting a hand over his shoulder lightly. Joshua glares at him from over his shoulder, shaking the hand off, and snaps sharply. "_Don't _touch me." The Virtue holds his hands up passively, backing up a step as the ground shakes softly underfoot, he stumbles into his Captain, Oren steadies him as they sway with the rocking motion of the earth. "Don't _any _of you touch me."

"Alright, Joshua," Akriel waves his hands at him soothingly. "Alright, just calm down."

The Gardener glares at them, then to his archangel, and shoves him away from him as he turns back to stroking his little rose bud's face with his cool cloth. "I'm not leaving her with _any_ of you, _never_ again."

The Healer exchanges a look with his Captain over his shoulder, and Oren shrugs, there was little they could do to dispute the distrust. They had all failed the Gardener and his little rose bud. Ephraim steps beside them. "I'll get you a new tunic."

Two young healers return to their side, carrying a tub of cool water between them, and sets it down next to the bed she lays in.

"Okay, let's get her in the tub."

Joshua elbows him aside and he steps back from him. "I'll do it." He lifts the young lady from the bed gently, turning her around to the tub, he kneels slowly to lower her into the cool water, not caring that he's soaking his sleeves and the front of his tunic, watching her face carefully for any change in expression. He cups a handful of water and drips it down her head, it drips down her hair, and he busies his hands by working the knots from her brown wavy hair.

They sit there, at a slight distance from the Gardener and his charge, waiting for any change in position, he rests against the metal tub, arms hanging loosely in the cool water, waiting for any change in her.

And then her arm twitches.

Joshua sits up, leaning forward, his slightly pruned hands cradling her cheeks lightly. "Eiael?" Her eyes flutter softly, she takes a soft breath. "Eia?" Her eyes flutter open slowly, looking around with fear, wide and nervous, "Eia, it's okay." Her eyes come to rest on him, and he smiles. "It's okay, Eia, I'm here."

"….Josh…?"

"I'm here, rose bud, I'm right here."

A smile slowly flutters over her features. "Josh." Her arms raise weaking, her hands, long pruned, reach for his and he curls his fingers around hers, curling her hands into his. "Josh."

"You're home, Eia, you're home."


	78. A Playful Distraction

"Someone's got a case of the giggles."

He pokes the young sentry in the belly playfully, avoiding his reaching fingers skillfully, looming over him in his bed. Abner had to meet at the Infirmary that morning to get his back looked over, the whip lashes were healing nicely, the stitches needed removed, leaving Gadreel on his own for the first time in a while.

But he wasn't completely alone.

Titus had promised to stay with him until the older sentry returned.

They'd read for a bit, from one of his many books, played a card game silently after lunch, sat on either side of the bed and passed notes back and forth, played a game of catch with a paper ball, snuck around rearranging the others rooms a bit and waited on baited breath to hear their reactions. They had a merry good time together, even when things started to wind down, the gusto leaving the younger sentry laying on the bed. The Power sat next to him, poking him in the belly playfully, chuckling at his soft bubbly giggles, as he tried to wiggle away from his finger.

"Where are you going, you little wiggle worm?" He reaches over to poke him on the other side of his belly, eliciting another bout of happy giggles, and he wiggled back over again, pressing against his leg. "We're not done here yet." The little sentry giggles, hands circling around to grab his finger, but he alludes the attempts with ease. "Much better." He pokes him dead center in the belly and holds his finger there for a playful minute. "Makes it so much easier to do this." He spiders his finger over his belly, and the young sentry shrieks brightly, arching his back.

The Power chuckles when the younger angel manages to curl his fingers around his wrist and tug his hand away from his belly. "Oh, you think that'll stop me?" He looks to the space above them. "Whatever shall I do now?" He raises his other hand, eyes going playfully wide as he stares at him, and turns to look back at the giggling sentry beside him. "Oh, look what I've been gifted, a _second _hand. I wonder, though," he wiggles the finger of his right hand down at him and his giggling picks up in tempo. "Does this one work just as well as the one you've captured?"

He smiles when Gadreel shakes his head, giggling harder when he slowly lowers his hand over his belly, wiggling fingers and all. "No? But we haven't tested it yet, how could you possibly know?"

"Tuhuhus!"

His eyes widen comically. "Wow, it got you to use your words, that is mighty impressive." He plants his fingers on his belly, they just sit there, and the younger angel sucks in a breath. "Let's see what else it can do." He digs his fingers in slightly, and the younger angel squeaks cutely, scrunching up as much as he can. "Oh, I think I like this hand."

Titus wiggles his fingers into his belly and Gadreel shrieks, arching his back again, squirming around and wiggling under his fingers.

"My, my, someone _does_ have a case of the giggles." He tilts his head playfully. "But, what about…What about _both_ hands?"

Gadreel shrieks and shakes his head, hugging his captive hand to his chest as tightly as he can manage, and the Power gives a soft chuckle. "Exactly what I was hoping you'd do." He digs five fingers into his upper belly and five fingers into his lower belly, and the younger sentry loses it, he throws his head back and screams with laughter. "I've got someone's ticklish little belly right where I want it."


	79. A Cute Little Sidekick

"Okay, I have to go help people," he sets the small little bubbly toddler down on the blanket nearest his desk on the Infirmary floor. Little hands reach up for him, fingers flexing demandingly. "No! Daddy, up! Daddy!" He takes her hands, pressing his lips to her palms, and the little thing giggles excitedly. "You play with your toys, daddy will come back at midday, and we'll have a snack together."

"Daddy! Hel'! 'aso hel'!"

"You want to help daddy?"

She nods excitedly, little curls bouncing with the movement, and she flexes her fingers again. "Up! Daddy, up!"

He chuckles, curling his fingers around her wrists, he stands, lifting her up with him. She shrieks happily as she swings from his grasp, and he tosses her up above his head, smiling at her bubbly excitement. He catches her in his arms, the little girl giggles brightly, patting his chest with her little hand. "Let's go see what we can accomplish together."

She coos excitedly, her leg kicking softly around his front, and rests her head on his shoulder. He's taking this time he has with her this little for every moment he's allowed, cherishing every minute, he hadn't gotten to know the pride of his heart when she was a little girl, and now was his chance.

He makes his way through his Infirmary, looking in on his healers aiding their patients, offering his assistance where it's needed. His little girl rests against his side lightly, a light weight, and watches them all with wide attentive eyes.

"Daddy?" His little Iaso looks up at him, her curls brushing against his chin, and he turns to meet her inquisitive eyes. "Yes, baby girl?"

"Daddy." She points at her older brother across the way and he follows her finger. "Hel' Ori?"

"You want to help Oren?"

Iaso nods slightly, smiling up at him adorably, and he can't possibly say no to that little smile. "Alright, you can help Oren."

He turns in the direction of his Captain, as per her wishes, and though he feels bad for interrupting his Captain in the middle of a task, her wish is his command. Raphael calls out for him. "Oren." He looks up at the call of his name, his hands stilling in wrapping the bandages around the arm wound he was in the midst of binding. His confusion turned to adoration as he waved back to the small Nephilim sitting on his archangel's arm, and he straightens as he turns his attention back to his Archangel, tilting his head in question. "She wants to help you." He smiled when his commander nodded over to the little girl he held, she waved again, and he nodded, raising his hands for her.

Chuckling, the archangel adjusted his hold on his daughter, curling his fingers under her arms he pulled her out to dangle in front of him. She giggled excitedly, her hands outstretched and ready to go, and he pulled her back for a brief moment before he tossed her forward. The shriek she let out was one of excitement, as she soared over the poor soul laying in the bed between them, and landed safely in the arms of her older brother.

Oren bounces her a moment, smiling at her soft giggling, and leaned forward to brush his nose against hers. "You want to help, Ori?"

"Hel' b'g brot'a!"

"You are more then welcome to help big brother."

The Virtue nods to his Archangel. "I'll watch over her and make sure she gets her snack at midday."

He nods. "Much appreciated, Oren."

They part after that, and the Virtue looks down at the little girl, into her bright blue eyes, and smiles again. "Help me wrap these bandages around his arm?"

Iaso looks up at him with wide blue eyes. "Hu't?"

"He's got a big ouchie."

She nods, turning to look down at wounded angel sitting on the bed before them, pointing at the bandages he'd set down at the call of his name. "Hel'."

"Good girl," he pats her bottom lightly, turning her around as he kneels, setting her to stand between his legs as he settles in behind her. "Ready?" She nods, her curls brushing against his cheek, and he picks up the swath of bandages that he holds up for her. "We're going to curl this around the big booboo, okay?" She nods, her little fingers curling around the large swath of bandages and leaned forward to wrap the bandages around the stitched up wound. Oren smiled at her as she did her duty, resting his elbows on his knees, he watched her do so carefully. When she finished her swath of bandages, coming to the end, she turned to look back up at him. He smiled, kissing her cheek lightly, and reached around her to tear the end and tie it off. "Very good, baby sister."

He curls his right arm around her waist, pressing her back against him stomach, and stood up again. His knees popped as he straightened, he grimaced for the briefest of moments, standing in that position for too long would cause anyone some discomfort. "Alright, Cammael, no heavy lifting." He smiles when the little girl points her finger at their patient assertively. "Keep that arm clean to steer clear of infection." She puckered her little lips and wagged her finger at him. "And the bandages need to be changed in three days' time."

Cammael nods, thanking him softly, and then the little girl on his arm, and reached for his sword as he stood from the edge of the bed.

Oren and Iaso watched him go, and the Virtue looked down at his little passenger with a smile, one that she returned in kind. "Were you trying to be more assertive?"

"I'n'charge!"

"No," he wiggles his fingers into her side, and she shrieks and squirms. "_I'm _in charge. _You're_ my little sidekick."

She tilts her head and smiles up at him adorably. "I coot si'ekick!"

"You most certainly are a cute sidekick."


	80. Baby's First Real Home

"This is where you _live_?"

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, looking up in awe at the great looming structure, it's tall spires and grand pillars, the winding veranda, the soft glowing orange of the torches. His dad chuckles as he steps passed him, up the first finely cut stair, gesturing for him to follow over his shoulder. Avon takes one last sweeping glance of the great Infirmary and jumps up the stairs to make it back to his side.

"Only upstairs, in the Loft, the downstairs is where I work."

"What do you do?"

Akriel smiles down at him and his curiosity. "I'm a healer."

"You help people?"

He nods. "I do." A large hand ruffles his wavy locks gently. "I'm also a Virtue."

"A Virtue?"

"Think of it as a _very_ skilled healer."

They come to a stop at the vast entrance to the Infirmary, the grand doors standing open for all to open who needed to, and Avon takes it all in with wide eyes and mouth ajar, not wanting to miss a single thing. Akriel smiles at him, rubbing the back of his head tenderly, turning to take in the sight that was his home. "Like it?"

"It's….It's _amazing_."

"Well," they turn to look at the new voice, Akriel smiles in greeting, and Avon feels his cheeks heat up warmly. Raphael smiles at them both as he comes to stand next to them. "Thank you. I think it's rather nice. Took me forever to build, let me tell you."

"You…" Avon looks up at the archangel with wide eyes. "You _built _this?"

"I did. From the ground up." He looks around his Infirmary proudly, hands resting on his hips lightly, smiling at his creations and healers within. "Took me nearly a decade."

"How….How old _are _you?"

The Archangel heaves a deep sigh, refusing to look down at him, even as his Virtue snorts. "Akriel."

Avon looks up at his father when he presses his hand to the small of his back. "_Never _ask an archangel how old they are."

"Sorry."

The mental specialist laughs softly, guiding him forward with his hand on the small of his back, Avon follows dutifully, his head turning this way and that, trying to take in every sight he could as he passed. Healers turned to watch them pass, whispering among each other at the sight of a Nephilim boy standing at the side of a Virtue, seeing a Nephilim among them was not unusual, their Archangel had a Nephilim daughter, but to see one as unfamiliar as this one was and walking next to the soft spoken specialist was an uncommon sight. Avon noticed their stares and stepped closer to his dad as they walked, Akriel felt him press into his side and looked down confusedly for a moment, taking in their surroundings, and sighed softly. "It's alright, they just don't know you, they're curious."

He guides his son to the back of the Infirmary, where his archangel's office is, down the hall to the stairs in the back, the ones that lead up to the Loft above their heads. Avon grips the back of his dad's tunic as they come up into a spacious lounge, soft pillows and blankets strewn about haphazardly, the place looks deserted.

"This is the Loft," he guides his son through the Lounge, to the benches and table next to the fireplace, and settles him on one of the benches. "_This _is where I live."

"Dad…It's _huge_."

Akriel chuckles softly. "Well, there's ten of us, so it has to be rather on the big side." He reaches for a bowl on the shelf above him.

"_Ten_!"

"Yes," he turns to the cauldron of warm stew hanging before the fireplace. "There's six Virtues, and our charges of course," he fills the bowl half way and turns, setting it down before his son, nodding when he remembers that he needs a spoon. "And, then there's you. That makes ten."

"You include me?"

"Of course, I do." He passes him the spoon and leans back against the counter behind him. "What's with the twenty questions, eat your bowl of stew, and then it's time for bed."

"A _bedtime_?" Avon makes a face at the thought of it. "Dad, I'm _fifteen_!"

"Right, and you're a fifteen year old who _has_ a bedtime, so chop-chop."

Well, he was feeling a tad on the sleepy side, he nodded as he took a bite of potato and hummed at the taste of the spices, it was a tasteful and balanced stew, and he took another bite, this time of meat. "Dad, this is amazing."

"Well, thank you." Akriel smiles at him, nodding at him to take another bite, and Avon does so happily. It's just what he needed to fill in that little hungry spot in his belly. "I made it."

"You're a good cook, dad."

"I thank you for the compliment." He crosses his arms loosely about his chest. "I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

Avon finishes his bowl and stares down at it now that it's empty, he frowns lightly, his father chuckles above him. "Just a _little _hungry, huh?" He scoops another ladle of stew into his bowl and hands it back to him. "Here's another bowl, baby boy." And sets the bowl down in front of his son for his seconds.

Avon makes a face. "_Not _a baby."

"I could have sworn we'd been over this already." Akriel leans back against the counter again and crosses his arms again. "You're going to be my baby boy all your long life, so I'd get used to it."

"Can't you give me, I don't know, a _tougher_ nickname?"

"Sure," his dad nods at him in acknowledgement to his request. "When you're tough, I'll give you a tougher nickname."

Avon glared up at him, and he raised an eyebrow in warning, his glare lessened. "I _am _tough."

"Sure, about as tough as a puppy." He points at him playfully. "That _giggle _we heard back there was very _tough_."

The boy blushed deeply, bowing his head down to his bowl of delicious stew, and took a bite of potato. His father sounds amused when he says. "Yea, that's what I thought."

"Ak?" A sleepy voice echoed through the recently silenced room, they turn to see who joined them, and Avon recognizes the sleepy man that steps out of the hall into their cooking area. He's the one he saw for that brief moment when they opened the door to his cell and the archangel came in to deal with their matter at hand. "I heard you….talking…to…someone…...I recognize you." The new man, the one he knows from his memory, thought not by name, looks at him with curious confusion. "You're the one who made baby sister cry."

Avon tilts his head slightly. "Baby sister?"

"Iaso."

"She's…_She's _your baby sister?" He looks between the nameless man and his father, its his dad who nods in confirmation. "Yep, she's the daughter of our old guardian, making her our baby sister."

"With that in mind," the other man turn's to look at his brother. "What's he doing _here_?"

Akriel smiles at him and gestures to the boy. "He's my son, Oren."

Oren, the once nameless man, turns to look at him with wide eyes, and he takes another bite of his stew quietly. "Your _son_?"

"Yep." His dad sounds proud, he's only know him for nearly a night and he's already proud, it makes him feel warm and tingly on the inside. "Making him your _nephew_."

"We have a _nephew_?"

"Sitting there in the flesh."

"Well," Oren turns to him with a smile. "Welcome to the family then, kiddo." He turns back to his brother. "I trust he knows what will happen if he should ever hurt our baby girl again?"

"Rather well."

"Good, good." The Captain of the Virtues smiles down at his nephew, reaching forward to ruffle his wavy locks. "Get your fill to eat and have a good night, little guy."

"I'm not little."

"Compared to us, kid, you're just a baby."

He grumbles under his breath and takes another bite of his stew. Akriel smiles at him in amusement and turns to his brother. "He's about the same size as Inca, would you mind if we borrowed a tunic and some trousers, he's going to be staying awhile." He nods his head firmly. "No son of mine is going to involve themselves into this childish squabble for attention."

Oren chuckles, nodding as he turns. "Sure, let me get you a pair."

Avon looks up to his dad as his uncle leaves them for the moment. "Who's Inca?"

"Your cousin." He gestures to his bowl. "Finish up and we'll head to bed."

…

A week passed by quickly for him. Thankfully he hasn't met that side of his father again, the angry side, the one that uses the belt, he'll remember that sting for a while to come and avoid it to the best of his ability. He met his other uncles, they're all really nice, even though he'd made their baby sister cry, his dad always introduces him proudly to whomever asks about his identity.

His sisters were really great, they had been sort of standoffish to each other at first, not sure where the other stood, but the tension had passed and they got along like family. Gzel was the wild one, always up to joke around and play a prank on his father or any one of their uncles, she was always quick to jump into the fray should a fight break out in the Infirmary, as rare as they were, not afraid to get her hands dirty. Orion was the quiet one, soft spoken and kind, a listening ear when one was needed, always offering advice and asking him how his day was going. He had met his cousins, Inca and Araton, and they were nice. Playful in their own way. Inca was teaching him silent speak, or sign language as the humans called it, rather happily that someone was taking enough interest to learn so that they could talk to him like a person.

He had chores to do around the Infirmary, making beds or folding laundry, refilling water pitchers and restocking Inventories, sometimes he got to help Zed and Araton pick their inventory from the atrium in the back.

Dad also sparred with him, keeping him up on his training, though he was a healer primarily, he was rather good with a sword and taught him things he didn't know every time they trained together.

…

Avon jumped forward first, making to strike him in the center, and his dad easily side stepped his incoming attack, smacking his bottom with the flat of his sword lightly, leaving him feeling flustered and rubbing at his stinging bottom.

"You're too eager." Akriel turned, turning his sword in his hand skillfully. "You're not focusing on the weak side."

"You're just better then me!" He gripes. "You've had more practice!"

"Be that as it may," his dad shakes his head lightly. "You're still too eager. You need to focus on your opponents weakside, mine is the right, I fight left handed, my right is my weakside. You can't always just jump into it, you have to be more strategic then that," he lowers his position. "Let's go again."

Avon falls into a similar position, his muscles on a hair lined trigger, and he jumps forward again. This time he aims for the right, just like his dad had said, but he's attack is met on equal standing and parlayed, he circles their swords around, disarms him in one foul move, and kicks his foot out from under him, sending him falling backwards in the grass of the Garden.

"I could see which direction you were going, your foot twitched to the right before you jumped forward, that's a giveaway."

"This is useless!" He just flops back in the grass, letting his arms fall outwards, glaring up at the clouds above. "You're just better than I am! I'm never going to get one on you."

"I have had more training, yes, but you've got skill in your own right." His dad raises his arms and jabs the training swords into the soft ground under them. "You'd be better at this if you weren't so unfocused." He crosses his arms loosely. "You're too flustered. You need to calm down. You'll get the upper hand if you focus on it."

"I am _not _flustered!"

"Oh, yes you are," he points a finger down at him warningly. "That lip right there is the only evidence needed. You need to take a deep breath and calm down."

The boy tears a handful of grass out from under him and throws it at his father. "That's _easy_ for you to _say_!"

"Do you need help calming down?"

"I don't need help with anything!"

"I'll help you calm down." He glares at his dad as he comes to loom over him, feet parted and planted at both of his hips, and kneels over top of him. "I've been wanting to test this out, anyways, no better opportunity then now."

Avon tilts his head to the side. "Test what out?"

His dad smiles at him playfully. "If you're ticklish or not."

His eyes widen quickly, and he shakes his head, squirming under him for freedom, but his fingers curl around his sides and he falls still. "_Sure_, I _believe_ that." There's sarcasm dripping from his tone as he speaks this false assurance. "If you're not ticklish, then this won't bother you in the slightest."

Avon's eyes widen comically, and he bursts into a fit of laughter, when he spiders his fingers up his sides quickly. His dad smiles widely down at him, fond amusement shining in his eyes at the display, and he stills his fingers if only for a moment. "You little liar." He squirms and laughs when he spiders his fingers back down his sides just as quickly. "You know what I do to little liars, like you?"

He giggles at the tingly sensations shooting up and down his sides, despite his dad's fingers being still. "Noho."

His dad chuckles in playful evilness and settles down onto his knees, straddling his hips with his legs, and leans over him just a bit more. "I give them a good tickle torture." And spiders his fingers up and down his sides quickly. Avon shrieks, bursting into bright laughter, and squirms under his restraint around his waist. The little space between his dad's legs and his hips allows him to twist and turn, up onto his right side, but it does nothing to inhibit his dad. He simply accommodates the new position by wiggling ten fingers into his left side, it brings forth another shriek, and he squirms under him like a worm, batting at his hands desperately. "You want me to focus on your left, you little wiggle worm, I can do that for you." His fingers circled around, moving passed each other up and down, wiggling in the back of his side, he arches his back in ticklish agony, and then down the side of his tummy. The fingers scribbling down his tummy brings another shriek and bright bubbly laughter erupts from him. "Oh, ho, does someone have a ticklish little tummy?" He claws his hand into his tummy, and he squeals brightly, his dad laughs at his ticklish misery, and vibrates his fingers into his tummy deeper. "We'll have to check that out next, then, it needs some loving." Avon shrieks, even when the hands pull away from his side and tummy, when fingers curl around his left wrist. "What about under here?" he lifts his arm with ease, holding it above his head, and pokes a finger of his free hand into the hollow of his underarm. Avon shrieks again, tugging at his arm, trying to pull it from his grasp and slam it back down. "Oh, someone has ticklish little armpits too."

Akriel smiles at the mess he's making of his only begotten son, wiggling his finger into his hollow a bit deeper, chuckling in amusement when he squeals brightly and tugs desperately on his captured arm. "I'm only using one finger and you're a mess." He stills his wiggling finger, sticking a second one into the ticklish little armpit. "What happens if we introduce another?" He wiggles both fingers around and Avon squeals again and wiggles under him some more, arching his back lightly, he reaches around with his other hand desperately as he tries to grad his two fingers. "This is precious." He lets go of his wrist and shoots his hands back down to his sides, digging into the muscle meanly, and his son arches his back again as he shrieks in laughter. "Tickle, tickle, tickle, baby boy."

"Dahahahaddy!"

"Yes, little guy, how can I assist you?"

"Tihihihickles! _Tihihihiickles!_"

"I know it does, baby boy, that's what I'm trying to do."

Avon manages to turn back onto his back, dislodging his fingers from his side, and gulps in mouthfuls of air, residual giggles making his belly quiver. He chuckles at him, lifting his hands above his belly, and wiggles his fingers slowly. "Time for some tummy torture now?" The young Nephilim's eyes shoot to his fingers and his giggles intensify, he takes a deep shaky breath as he sucks in his belly, trying to keep it away from his dad's wiggling fingers as much as he can. His fingers press into his belly, and his breath hitches, in the bubble of air he holds in his mouth. His dad chuckles in playful cruelty and looms over him, peering down into his bright, shining eyes. "I'm going to give this ticklish little tummy the tickling of it's life, are you ready for it?" A few giggles escape his clamped lips and he shakes his head quickly. "I have _years _of tummy torture to catch up on." He drums his fingers against the sides of his belly, and more and more giggles escape him, a tight smile spreading over his clenched lips. "Don't hold those adorable little giggles away from me, now, I love them." He wiggles his fingers into the quivering belly under him and the giggles increase in volume. "I _said _to let me hear those giggles, you stubborn little thing." He claws his fingers into the slight pudge of baby fat and his son throws his head back and squeals in laughter. "That's much better."

He scribbles his fingers in a circle, his son laughing like crazy, throws his hips this and that, bucking himself as best as he can off the soft grass under him, he can feel his legs kicking behind him. He pinches at the pudge of baby fat and his son shrieks, with every single pinch, and then claws his fingers back in again, and he screams in laughter once more, batting weakly at his hands. He leans over him, digging his fingers in sharply, and he screams under his torture, throwing his head back again as he clenches his eyes shut. "That's it, laugh, baby boy, laugh your little heart out. Coochie, coochie, coo."

"Dahaha! Daahahhaddy! Dahahahaadddyyy! Behehehehelly! _Beheheheelly!_"

"I told you this belly was going to get the tickling of a life time, didn't I?"

"HUhuhuhuhurts! Huhuhurts!"

He stops suddenly, and his son's chest heaves for breath, and he tugs his tunic upwards to reveal the shaking pale belly from underneath. "You're little tummy hurts, I can fix that, trust me, I'm a healer." Fingers curl into his hair when he shoots down and starts pressing kisses all over the belly surface, blowing a raspberry here and there, rubbing his beard into the sensitive skin, tugging at his hair desperately. Behind him, his legs kick wildly, his laughter falling silent as he throws his head back, and Avon feels his eyes burn with unshed tears.

He's never laughed this much in his lifetime, it feels liberating, his dad's playful torture is brutal, but it's fun at the same time. All he can do is laugh and laugh and laugh, jolting with every raspberry, screaming with laughter, silent bouts of it intermixed when he nibbles playfully at his slight baby pudge.

The beard makes it so much worse, too, it's scratchy and rough and itches across his belly.

"_Behehehahahahhaard! Beehehehahahahahard!"_

"My beards horrible, isn't it?" He takes a deep breath and shakes his head as he blows out a strong raspberry, rubbing in his beard at the same time. "Does your little tummy still hurt?"

His belly does still hurt, it's sore from laughing so hard, but he doesn't dare admit that to his dad. He'll keep on his playful torture, keep on _'helping' _him. So, he shakes his head frantically, tears dripping from the corners of his eyes, and he screams when his dad blows in one final raspberry and pulls away.

Akriel smiles down at the breathless, giggling mess he's made of his young son, and pulls his tunic back down as he shifts to the side to sit next to him in the grass. Chuckling, the Virtue reaches out to rub at his belly, the boy jolts under him and squeals, expecting an attack, but he just rubs a soothing circle.

"Are you ever going to lie to me again?"

The boy shakes his head quickly, curling his arms around himself as he turns up onto his side, his fathers hand moving from his belly to the side of his head, rubbing gently at his scalp.

"Works every single time."

"Yohohour sohoho meahahahheeaan."

"So, I've been told." He tugs his ear lightly. "Have I told you that you're adorable." Avon nods. "Good, because you are."

His dad stretches out next to him, curling his free arm under his head, and tugs him close against his side. "No more training for today." He scratches at his scalp lightly as he begins to calm down. "Let's take a nap."

"That sohounds nihice."

"I thought you'd agree."


	81. Treating The Gardener

"Ooooh, baby brother." He smiles as he enters the garden, they'd put Zaves down for a nice nap, and he had a promise to fulfill, "Where ever are you?"

The chirping of the birds in the vast Garden is the only response he gets, no sight nor sound of his precious, sneaky baby brother. Joshua has always been good at hiding from them when it came to them deciding he needed a bit of laughter in his life, their little Gardener worked much too hard, he'd use this time to put a bit of laughter into his quiet life and then force him to take a nap, when he was through with him.

He sees his brother's clippers and watering can resting lightly on the dirt path next to a rose bush, it had been the rose bush they had last seen him at, and he'd taken his moment of peace to find himself a nice hiding spot to hunker down in, hoping beyond hope that he would give up the chase and return to the Infirmary.

Akriel wasn't so easily deterred though.

He made a _promise_, and he _keeps _his promises.

And he doesn't make empty threats either.

"Oh," he spoke into the hush of the Garden. "You want me to _hunt _you down, do you?" He waits, ears tuned for the possible crack of a twig or shuffle of a bush. "You know how much _worse _it is if you make me find you, little willow." Not a sound of an angel, not a breath, not a single inkling of the other being hiding from him somewhere in the fauna. He chuckles as he leaves the evidence of his brother's being there laying in the soft dirt, walking slowly down the beaten path, gazing into the shadows of the trees and the dancing tall grass. "I'm going to have a nice go at that belly of yours." He speak out in the open, he knows that where ever his brother is hiding that he can hear him, and he hopes he can make a giggle of anticipation escape him, giving away his location. "It's going to get lots of love. It's so neglected. It needs as much attention as it can get." Silence echoes around him, the wind hums through the trees, the birds chirp above him, but nothing manmade. "And, let's not forget those little armpits of yours."

He pauses, listening for any sound that would indicate any direction, but there's nothing but the sounds of nature. This is Joshua's domain, he knows the Garden more then any of them do, save for their Archangel, he knows all the nook and crannies for one to hide away in. They always find him though, when they play these games of theirs, at the end of the day they get to have their way and their beloved little brother gets his.

Joshua is a workaholic, he works none stop, and sometimes he needs convinced to take a rest.

That's where they come in.

"And that bitty little neck, you could never stand it when we gave that neck some loving, those high pitched little giggles you give." He smiles, peering over a thick berry bush. "Music to our ears."

There it is. The slight rustle in the bushes. The sound he's been waiting for. He turns in the direction of the noise and steps through the bushes. The Virtue smiles as he comes to stand behind a tree, hands pressed lightly against trunk of the tree, he peers around it to the other side. His eyes meet those of forest green. "Found you."

Joshua shrieks lightly and pushes away from the tree, turning to run in the other direction, and he laughs softly. "I love this part." And darts around the tree to make chase.

They run through the trees, jumping over overturned tree trunks, off boulders strewn about, over bumbling creeks. Joshua nearly shakes him, through many twists and turns around trees of different kinds, but he manages to pick up the trail after a moments loss. He loves the chase, it's his favorite part, the delirious laughter that comes from his younger brother as he peers over his shoulder to see the distance between them makes his heart soar.

The chase doesn't usually end in such a manner as it did this time though.

He skids to a stop, watching with horrified wide eyes, as his brothers boot catches on a tree root, and he tumbles forward. His knees hit the ground hard as he rolls forward, rolling head over heels, he comes to a rocking stop. His legs spread in front of him, back curled inwards, he shakes his head to clear away the forming clouds.

"Josh!" The healer rushes forward, jumping over the tree root that had caught his brother up, and kneels behind him as he gently curls his fingers over his shoulders. "Josh, are you alright?"

His brother shakes his head, fists pressing lightly to his temples, and takes a deep breath. "I..I think so."

"Does anything hurt?" He feels at his head for any knots forming under his curls. "Your head? Your knees?"

"No…." Joshua shakes his head again. "No, I think I'm alright."

"Don't lie to me."

The Gardener shakes his head, this time in denial, and turns to look at him from over his shoulder. "I'm not, older brother."

"If you're sure?"

He nods this time. "I'm sure."

"Good." The Virtue smiles at him mischievously. "You know what's going to happen now?"

He giggles softly, nodding his head, and the older angel smiles at him fondly as he curls his fingers around his shoulders a bit tighter, to keep him in place, and steps around him to straddle his waist as he pushes him down into a laying position among the soft grass under them. "We haven't gotten to play together in months." He pokes him in the belly playfully. "Have you been taking care of yourself without our intervention?" The Gardener giggles lightly and nods his head, squirming under him, and he smiles at the younger angel. "You have? Good angel."

Joshua settles under him, his head cushioned on the soft grass, and he smiles down at him softly. "You know what I'm going to do now?" He pokes him in the belly gently and he giggles lightly, squirming from side to side, and swats at his fingers. "I'm going to give you the most torturous of all tickle tortures. To make up for lost time." He continues to poke him in the belly and sits back softly. "But where to start?" He reaches forward and wiggles a finger under his ear. "There's so many fun spots to go for."

"Ak, no!"

"Ak, _yes!_"

He digs his fingers into his belly and the Gardener jolts harshly, bursting into bright laughter, he squirms from side to side under him. "How about we start with this belly, here?" He spiders his fingers over his lower belly and Joshua shrieks under him. "I've always loved this belly." He stills his fingers for a moment and Joshua breathes in frantically. "What do you say?" He wiggles his fingers lightly. "Should I go at this belly?"

"Nohoho!"

He looms over him, smiling down at him, and digs his fingers back in. Joshua arches his back, shrieking in laughter, and drums his heels into the soft ground underneath him.

Then his face drains of color.

Akriel pulls back immediately, frowning in distaste for the sudden loss of color, and rests his hands on his thighs lightly. "Josh?"

"Hurts."

"What hurts, baby brother?"

He grimaces. "My knees."

"You knocked them pretty hard." Akriel climbs up from his waist, falling into healer mode, and feels lightly at his knees, watching him for reactions. Joshua inhales suddenly, his legs jerking, when he finds the sensitive spot. "You've probably bruised them." He climbs to his feet, kneeling down, and slides his arms under the Gardener. "We should get you to the Infirmary to take a closer look." The younger angel curls his arm around his older brother's neck as he stands them up again.

…

"What happened?"

He'd crossed to their side at first sight of them. Raphael leaned over the Gardener's bed to pet his curls back, looking to his trauma specialist for clarification. Akriel places a pillow under the young angels knees and rests them gently over top of it. "He took a bit of a tumble in the garden while we were playing around."

"We'll get some ice, in case of bruising."

"You guys are overreacting."

"Hush you." The Healer taps him on the nose. "We rarely get the chance to dote on you."

Joshua blinks up at him, but cuddles down against his pillows and blankets, closing his eyes lightly. "I'm going to take a nap."

"Good. You could use one."


	82. Does Anyone Hear A Tree Fall

Stepping into the Garden was like stepping into another world, the birds sang above them a tune of their own, the wind danced through the tree tops, fawns ate at the grass between the trees, the flowers were bright and full, blooming constantly, the creeks were sparkling and bumbling, the lake deep and cool.

They had an appointment that day, him and his little apprentice were meant to come together with the Gardener to pick from patches of herbs that could only grown within the magnificent forest of the Garden.

Joshua was around here somewhere.

"I don't see him, Z." Araton stood on her toes as she tried to peer through the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of the elusive, quiet Gardener working and tending to his plants and fauna, but she couldn't see him. "He knew we were coming, right?"

"He did." Zed peered through the trees, gaining more distance from being able to stand over the bushes that blocked a majority of his apprentices line of sight, and frowned when he couldn't spot hide nor hair of him. He stood in his place as Araton stepped forward, heading down the dirt path some paces, and he saw her stop suddenly. "Z, I found something." He followed after her down the path, coming to stand behind her, peering over her shoulder to see what she had found. Clippers and sheers. So, Joshua _had_ been here. But it left them to the question of where he had gone. Zed kneels slightly, picking up the clean pair of sheers, turning them in his hands, and set them back where they had been left. "Let's split up, yell if you find him."

It was extremely unlike Joshua to leave his tools laying about. Not to mention, leaving those waiting he had set up an appointment with, he never left others waiting. If he said he was going to meet you, he was there, waiting, having arrived early.

"I'll go this way."

Araton slipped around him and began heading in the direction behind him, stepping through the bushes, he watched her disappear in the trees from over his shoulder. Sighing, the apothecary stood, looking out in the direction he was to go. "Josh, where are you?" He stepped through the bushes and walked into the tree line.

The young apothecary in training hummed to herself as she walked along, jumping over branches and off of rocks, she swung her arms lightly as she looked about her in the direction she was headed. Nothing appeared out of place, nothing seemed disturbed, there was no tracks to follow. Jumping onto an upturned tree, she held a hand up to her eyes and surveyed the area around her from her new vantage point, something caught her eye at the second sweeping glance. It was shiny and well maintained, a flat surfaced object, coming down to a fine edge, she squinted her eyes as she tried to register what it was.

An axe. It was an axe.

Jumping from her elevated vantage point, she ran through the bush and bramble to the location of the axe and came upon it soon enough. She kneeled, curling her fingers around the smooth wooden handle, and lifted it up to examine.

Their first clue.

"Mmmmm."

The sudden noise startled her, Araton dropped the axe to the grass under her, and her head shot up in the direction of the unexpected noise that broke the silence around her. Creeping forward, she turned a corner of a patch of trees, and her eyes widened.

"Josh!" There, laying before her, was their friend. His head turned, pressed into the grass, his eyes closed in unconsciousness. His hands lay in line with his head, limp against the grass, the trunk of a tree pressing heavily to his back, keeping him pinned to the ground underneath. He groaned again, as she slid to her knees beside him, reaching out to touch his face gently. "Josh!" The fingers of his right hand twitched, and she smacked his cheek slightly, trying to rouse him from his unconsciousness, he only groaned again. Araton scrambled down the tree, pressed her hands to the bark of the trunk, and pushed as hard as she could, but the trunk was too thick and too heavy for someone like her to move. "Josh!" Her hands shook as she sat up, her eyebrows scrunching in confusion at the sight of the chain wrapped around the lower half of the trunk, apologizing softly, though she doubted her light weight would add that much to the load he was already burdened with from the size and thickness of the tree, she climbed over the upturned trunk to get a closer look. His legs stuck out on either side of the tree, or at least, his lower legs did, and around his ankles, clasped tight, were a pair of manacles.

Someone had bound the Gardener to the tree and cut it down over top of him.

Josh groaned again.

Araton stood, her hands shaking, the flight or fight instinct kicked in, could the person who did this still be here. Could he still be watching her? Were they nearby waiting to strike again? She peered around the tree line, looking for any moving shadows, her chest aching as adrenaline took over. Climbing back over the tree, she knelt beside the unconscious Gardener, petting his cheek lightly. "I'm going to get help, okay, I'll be right back, Josh." She stood and darted off, running through the trees, darting around trunks, over upturned obstacles, boulders and rocks scattered around her, through the shallow creek, calling out for her master frantically. "Zed! _Zed!_" She nearly tripped but caught herself and continued on. "Zed! Zed!" Cutting through the tree line, she came to the same place his tools had been left, and darted into the side her master had taken. "Zed! Zed! _Zed!_"

She nearly tripped again, but strong arms curled around her before she could hit the ground, catching her up and helping her gain her footing again. "Woah, woah, slow down mustang." He leaned back from her. "What's wrong?"

"Josh!" She heaved for a breath, bending forward, she curled her fingers around her knees. "Josh! Hurt bad! Tree! Back! Chain!"

"Slow down, take a deep breath, and try again."

Araton nodded, looking frantically over her shoulder, her heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird. "Josh! He's hurt! A tree! A tree fell on him! I think it was done on purpose!"

The Apothecary's eyes widen as she tells him what she found, and he guides her around with a quick _'show me' _and her fingers curl around his as she tugs him forward. He rushes forward when he finally lays his eyes on him, falling to his knees at his head, pressing his fingers to his neck to check for a pulse.

"Ara, go get help! Get everybody!" She nods, not needing to be told twice, and darts off quickly. Zed leans down, pressing his ear next to his younger brothers mouth and nose, listening closely to his inhale and exhale, he wheezes softly, broken ribs. He looks over him, there was no telling the damage wrought to his back from the landing of the trunk, he jumps over the trunk, examining the chains curled around the lower half of the trunk, and his insides boil with rage.

Someone had meant for this to happen, someone had chained him to the tree, and slowly chopped it down over top of him.

He looks over his shoulder when he hears the soft groan from the downed Gardener. "Josh!" And, jumps back over the trunk to come to his side again. He witnesses the fingers of his right hand twitch softly, and he reaches forward to curl the smaller hand within both of his. "I'm here, baby brother, helps on the way." He leans forward, lifting the hand to press it to his lips. "You're going to be okay."

Araton broke the tree line first, she was a fast little thing, quickly followed by the Captains of the Powers and the Virtues, their archangels coming up behind them, the others following at their heels. Nisroc and Oren's mouths fell open at the sight that waited before them, admittedly, when the young healer had told them, they hadn't believed her, but to witness it for themselves made it equally as terrifying as it had been when they had been told the assumed make belief tale.

Raphael pressed a hand to his mouth for a moment, rushing forward to his grown charge's other side, kneeling to press his fingers to his neck for a pulse. "How long has he been like this?"

"I don't know, we just found him, Araton found him like this." Zed looks up to the Head Archangel, Michael meets his gaze directly, his eyes wide in shock. "He's chained to the tree."

"Are you implying that someone did this intentionally?"

Zed presses his lips to the back of the hand when he feels the fingers squeeze his lightly, looking down to the injured Gardener, they all looked down at him with wide eyes as he groaned again. "He wouldn't chain _himself _to a tree and chop it down."

The oldest archangel nodded in agreement, it was just hard for him to comprehend that someone would do this intentionally to another being. Michael turned to his Captain stiffly. "Nisroc."

"On it." He waved his hand to his Powers. "Disperse, scout the area."

They took off as ordered to see if the culprit was still hiding about.

Raphael turned to his older brother. "We have to get this tree off of him." Michael nodded in agreement. "Let me break the chains first." The Healer nodded, turning to his Virtues, and they all looked down to him for direction. "Get the back board ready." Constantine and Ephraim nodded, prepared to set it beside him, Oren and Akriel ready to turn him over onto it. The oldest archangel broke the chains with ease, and together, him and the Healer curled their arms around the trunk, and lifted it only just off of the Gardener's back. They struggled, nodding at the two Virtues, and they rushed forward. Oren and Akriel grabbed him around the upper arms and pulled him free from the trunk's path, curling him over onto the back board as the two archangel dropped the heavy trunk back to the grass under them.

They lifted the board carefully, looking down at their unconscious brother with great concern, and Raphael came to stand at his head, stroking his curls back lightly. "Let's get him to the Infirmary where we can explore the extent of the damage." They nodded, not needing to be told twice, and trudged off in a quick pace to get him there as soon as they could.

The Healer watched them disappear and turned to look at his brother from over his shoulder. "Michael, I want whoever is responsible for this to pay _dearly_."

Joshua was a gentle soul. He held no grudges, treated everyone with the kindness he held in his heart, no matter their past. To think that someone would want to harm him in this manner was unfathomable.

"This will be rectified, Raphael." Michael watched them disappear in the tree line with the wounded Gardener between them. "I will join my Powers in scouring every corner of the Garden and the investigation will be started immediately." He clenched his fingers into fists. "Whoever dared this will face their recompence."


	83. A Wilted Flower

They moved as quickly as they could to get the Infirmary as fast was possible, calling for others to get out of their way, clear their path, as they made their way down the Axis to their final destination. Zed walked in pace with them, holding Joshua's hand within his own, and they moved faster with every groan that the Gardener gave. He was starting to rouse from his unconscious state, and the sooner they got pain killers in him, the better he'd be. There was no telling the damage he'd endured, not now, not until they got him to the safety of the Infirmary where they could look him over thoroughly.

"Keep him level."

They all nodded at Oren's firm order, adjusting their holds on the board to keep him straightened, as they began to ascend the stairs that led to their destination. Joshua groaned, his fingers squeezing at the apothecary's tighter then before, and Zed looked up at them with alarm. "Guys, I think he's waking up!"

"We're almost there, Z, we can't risk jostling him in the state he's in."

The Gardener groaned deeply, his fingers gripping at his brothers tightly, and his eyes began to flutter. His eyes open wide, looking around him in confusion, seeing the world move and not understanding how it was. "Mmmmmm…Hurts…Back….."

"Where's it hurt, Josh?" Constantine looked down at him as they crested over the final step and began their journey over the veranda at the entrance of the Infirmary. "Where's it hurt?"

"…Back…"

"Where at on your back?"

His fingers tightened firmly around his older brothers. "….Middle…lower…hurts…..."

"We'll get you fixed up, Josh, good as new."

He nods stiffly, flinching in pain, and groans again. Healers clear a path as they enter, watching them rush forward to a bed, the others kneel at the bed's edge, Oren lets go of his hand, motioning for Zed to follow, and looks down to his younger brother gently. "Okay, Josh we have to roll you over onto the bed, I'm not going to lie, this'll probably be quite painful." He gripped his shoulders firmly, Zed bent and gripped his waist, and he looked back down to him. "Ready?"

Joshua nods, inhaling quickly, nodding again as though to tell them to hurry up. Trying to be as quick as they could, and as careful as one could be, both Virtues lifted him, cringing at the scream that escaped him at the action, and turn him over onto his stomach. His breathing became erratic, as waves and waves of agonizing pain swept over every nerve, and he reached out for someone's hand, anyone, he needed a hand to hold.

Ephraim appeared in front of him, sitting on his knees, and took his hand carefully. He raised it up, pressing his lips to the smooth skin that was the back of his hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. "We're here, baby brother, we're right here."

Another joined them, Akriel knelt beside the empath. "Josh, I need you to tell me what you feel?"

The Gardener licks his lips softly, his breathing slowly calming now that he was settled, but the throb was still present. "Hurts….It hurts….Hurts, Ak…."

"I know it does, baby brother, Zed's getting you something for the pain." He looks at someone above him. "Costa is going to press along your spine, you tell us if it hurts where he touches, okay?"

Joshua nods softly, as best he can, it's a slight jerk. Akriel smiles at him encouragingly, nodding at his brother above him, and he feels the pressure of hands pressing firmly against his back, starting at his lower back, and he gasps, groaning in pain. "Lower back, move up Costa, you're doing great Josh." Constantine does as he's told, moving his hands up a few inches, and presses in there, about midway up his back, and he gasps again, whining softly at the pressure and pain. "It seems to be directed more towards his lower back, Ak." The hands remove themselves from his throbbing back. "Moving up." They press against his spine again, towards his upper back, and while he flinches, his reaction is noticeably different then it had been previously. Akriel smiles at him, nodding up at their brother, and stands to converse with him over his head.

Joshua grimaces in pain, squeezing Ephraim's hand tightly, drawing his attention away from the conversation being had above him, looking down at him instead. "Yes, baby brother, what is it?"

"….Legs…."

He frowns in concern. "What about your legs?"

"….Can't…Feel…"

Oren appeared next to him, his eyes full of concern, and his travelled from one brother to the other. "You can't feel your legs?"

The Gardener blinks for a moment, closing his eyes for a breath, and his eyes open as he nods slightly, grimacing as he did. "…Can't…feel…legs…" The Captain of the Virtues frowned in concern, looking above him at the others, and then back to him. He reached forward to rub at his cheek lightly. "Everything's going to be okay, okay?"

Joshua closes his eyes, wishing Zed would hurry with his work, and gave the slightest of nods. He had faith in his brothers, they always came through for him, when they said it was going to be okay, it was because it would be.

Oren smiles at him, even though he can't see it, and looks up once more. "Ak, go get Raph." He curls his fingers around the back of the semi-conscious Gardener's head, fingers threading through his curls, frowning in worry. "This is worse then we thought."


	84. The Case Of The Great Itch

"Can you do me a favor?" He asked the healer that met him at the entrance, the little healer looked up at him with wide eyes at his request. "Can you not tell anyone that I'm here?" The little healer tilted her head but nodded all the same, guiding him through the bustling Infirmary to an empty bed. He sat on the edge at her urging, holding his hands out to her at her beckoning, and she curled his fingers around the backs of his hands as she examined his red, bumpy palms.

"What happened?"

"A new plant." He smiles wistfully. "Freshly created. I was tending to it when it began to itch."

Ansiel looks up at him as she purses her lips lightly. "What kind of plant?"

"A new kind of vine, it's beautiful, small purple flowers sprout from the stalk, it winds around and around." He smiles again. "It's amazing."

"You shouldn't touch it anymore." Ansiel tilts her head at the crestfallen expression that crosses his features at her soft order. "You're allergic to it."

"But—But I _just _created it! I love it! I can't _not _touch it!"

"Josh, you're breaking out in hives."

"Life is full of struggles." The Gardener tilts his head slightly, a stubborn light taking over his clear eyes, and looks down to his hands. "Can you please just get rid of the itch."

"I'm not going to help you if you're not going to help yourself."

He narrows his eyes. "You have to," his jaw sets. "It's your _job."_

"We are always told we don't have to heal those who's injuries come from pure stupidity." Ansiel places her hands on her hips sternly, glaring up at the Gardener in stern fashion, and his eyes narrow once more. "If you aren't happy with my service, you could always take it up with my boss."

"Are you…Are you _threatening _to tell on me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." She shrugs lightly. "I'm merely saying I'd get the appropriate one to help your situation."

"It itches!"

The little healer crosses her arms firmly. "It looks like it does."

"Joshua?" He flinches at the voice coming up from behind, curling into himself, he curls his hands under his arms quickly. "What brings you into our humble abode?" The Healer presses his hand to his shoulder as he comes around the bed to stand at his young healers side, he raises an eyebrow at him, pursing his lips lightly, he reaches out to poke softly at a patch of red, irritated bumps. "What's happened here?"

The Gardener bites his lip and looks away from his old guardian, Raph would ban him from touching his beloved new creation if he found out, and he couldn't run that risk, he loved his new plant, his new ivy, a simple, small allergic reaction wouldn't stop him from tending to it. "Nothing."

Raphael hummed under his breath, nodding softly, and turned to the little healer at his side. "I will tend to him, Ansiel, you go tend to your chores." The young lady nods silently, Joshua sees her smirk at him as she passes around his bed, and he glares at her. "How do I feel about lying, Joshua?"

He cringes slightly. "You don't like it."

"Right." The Healer crosses his arms. "And, how do I feel about one lying about an ailment?"

He cringes again. "You _really _don't like it."

"Correct." Joshua chances a glance up at his old guardian and flinches under the sternness that shines in his eyes. "And, what do I do to people who do what I don't like?"

The Gardener feels his face heat up softly. "You give them a switching."

"Do you want one?"

He shakes his head quickly. "No, sir."

"Then, how about you tell me the truth."

The Gardener nods his head lightly, pulling his hands out from under his arms, he reaches up to scratch at his cheek. "I'm all itchy."

"Don't scratch at it." The Healer swats his hand back down and takes hold of his chin, turning his head this way, and then that way, examining the rash that's spread over his smooth skin. "I can see that. I recognize this rash." He smiles in amusement. "It's the same type of rash you had when you first created Poison Ivy. I thought you were told to stay away from it."

"It's not Poison Ivy! Or, at least, not the kind I was told to stay away from! It's _new_!" Joshua smiles up at him adoringly, and he smiles down at him in return. "You should see it RaRa, it's beautiful, the stalk is a vibrant green, the leaves shine under the sunlight, bright purple flowers blooming from the branches! It's exquisite!"

The Archangel chuckles lightly, stroking a finger down the bridge of his nose in amusement. "You _created _a _new _type of Poison Ivy?"

"It was a marvelous mistake, I was trying to create a new kind of flowering vine, and somehow the extract from the Poison Ivy got in, a mistake, but worth it!"

He chuckles again, releasing his chin in favor of curling his fingers around his wrist, he first turned his hand over to examine the severity of the rash over his palms, frowning at the extreme blotchiness, and then pushed the sleeve of his tunic up, revealing a trail of red, irritated little bumps. "You really got into it, didn't you?"

"I had to shape it, RaRa."

"You are not to touch it again."

His mouth falls open slightly. "But, RaRa—"

"Joshua, you are not to touch it."

"But, it's my newest creation and—"

"Joshua, so help me," he looks up at him, pointing a stern finger at him. "If you touch it, I don't care how old you are, I'll take a switch to you _and _let you deal with the itchiness all on your own."

The Gardener's mouth hangs ajar. "But..But.._RaRa_!"

"I'm not joking."

"But…But…That's no fair!"

His old guardian pats his cheek lightly. "I'd think you were old enough to know that life is not always fair."


	85. Back To My Real Home

"Here, I got you some new cloths." Joshua kneels at the edge of her bed, smiling up at her, he set the light tunic on the bottom of the bed, over her legs, and the knee high trousers over her right leg. She reaches for his hand, and he curls his fingers around her little ones without prompting, all she can do is look at him. "Josh."

"I'm right here, rose bud, I'm not going anywhere." He raises her hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the smooth skin on the back. "Let's get you dressed, and we can go home."

"Home?"

"Back to our treehouse, where you belong, you're room is still as it was. Nothings changed. I put fresh flowers in there this morning anticipating your arrival."

"My room?"

"Your room. In your home. Your _real _home."

The others watched from various positions around the Infirmary floor, not able to get too close to them, lest Joshua lose his temper. And, the Gardener losing his temper was not something they could handle at the moment, they'd stayed as close as he allowed them to be until they got her fever under control and then they'd been pushed back.

"Josh, before we go home, can I get my things from my other home?"

He nods kindly, kissing her hand again. "Of course, you can, let's get you dressed and we can go now."

"Josh?" He turns a glare over his shoulder, at his older brother, he loved them all dearly but they had hurt him the greatest out of all enemies he'd ever obtained. "Can we come too?" Oren stands there, looking hopeful, wringing his hands together. He glares at him with all the intensity of an earthquake. "If only to make sure she doesn't overheat again."

"You can—"

"Josh." She squeezes his fingers, his glare disappears as quickly as it had appeared, and he spins around to look at her inquisitively. "They can come."

"Are you sure."

Eiael nods lightly. "It's okay." Joshua seemed against the idea of them joining them on this mission but could hardly deny those eyes looking at him so brightly anything, so he relented. Just because they would join them didn't mean that they had to stand with her. They could stay behind them. At a safe distance. Where they couldn't touch her. Sight only. No touching allowed. Sorry not sorry.

"Let's get you dressed then and we can go. Dahlia misses you."

Her eyes brightened. "Dahlia? She's still waiting for me?"

"Always, little tulip, she loves you." He lifts the tunic from over her legs and holds it above her head. "Shift into your tunic." She raises her arms and he slips the tunic over her head, tugging it down to cover her front, and then tugged her up, letting her throw her legs over the edge of the bed, he let go of her hand long enough slip her trousers onto either foot and her fingers curled over his shoulders as she pulled herself up from her bed, standing now, he was able to pull her trousers up over her waist and tie them off securely. He pulls her boots out from under the edge of her bed. "Here, step in." She dips her foot into the first boot, and he ties the laces up, then they do the same with the second, she stands, clutching at his hand tightly. A bit wobbly at first, but she catches herself and settles into standing with ease after a passing moment, she smiles up at him when she's ready and secure about herself. "Okay, I'm ready."

"By all means," he gestures her towards the doors. "Lead the way, Eia."

She smiles at him, tugging him forward as she steps around him, ignoring her other brothers as she passes them, she doesn't see Joshua glare at them as they walk before them, but she knows he is. They follow a pace behind them, she can hear their boots pattering across the stone floor as they follow behind them towards the exit. Eiael looks up at her older brother. "It's really pretty there, the flowers are breathtaking, so bright and vibrant, you should see them, they're beautiful."

"Have you been transplanting them?"

"As much as I can. I want them to grow into colonies and patches!"

He smiles down at her adoringly and shakes his head, flowers had always been her favorite, no matter what sort or color, she loved them all. "Shall we bring some home with us?" He swings their hands lightly. "We can plant them outside your window."

Eiael looks up at him with wide eyes. "Oh, can we Josh, can we?"

"Of course we can, little blossom."

The younger gardener hugs his hand to her chest tightly. "Oh, thank you! Thank you, Josh!"

"Anything for you, rosebud."

…

"The Amazon?"

"It reminded me the most of home."

She led them up a path, surrounded by plants on both sides, she looked over her shoulder when Ephraim got too close to the edge. "Don't touch the long leaves, they're poisonous."

He jumped away from them quickly. "Thanks for the warning."

"I'm only extending the courtesy you should have given me."

That draws them to silence once more, and she turns to look back up to her older brother at her side, Joshua smiled down at her. "I hope you like it."

"I'm sure I will love it, Eia."

She smiles up at him, tugging them along, leading them up the dirt path to a clearing in the thick green jungle. There's a small hut, flowers planted in a design that can only be seen from above, they lead up the short grass to the hut built against the bottom of a large tree. She pulls aside the curtain, inviting them in with a wave of her hand, and they enter behind her. It's a small hut, the trunk of a tree cut long ways down the middle serves as the only table surface, a small hole dug into the ground for a small fire pit, and a matt of blankets and leaves against the far wall. It's not much, sparse of homely needs, but it was her home for a good part of her life.

Eiael lets go of the Gardener's hand to lower herself to her knees before the tree trunk table, they gather around her, as she stuffs bottles and little vials into a satchel sitting on the end. Zed kneels on the other side, picking up one of the vials, reading the small curly lettering of the label on the front. "You're collecting poison's?" She nabs it from his hands and stuffs it into her pack. "Don't touch my things, please."

He seems taken aback by the hostility, but deems it deserved, and nods as he stands. Joshua rubs her curls lightly. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Eiael nods, pointing at the large, overflowing journal on the dried mud windowsill. "Can you get my journal?" He nods, parting from her side to get her beloved book, Oren comes to stand in his place, Constantine stands just behind his right shoulder, his hand hovers over her curls but inevitably falls back to his side. "This is your home?"

"I didn't really have the necessary supplies to make something more stable." She pauses in her packing. "I apologize you don't find it suitable. It was built with haste." And begins again. "And, I didn't have the aid that would have been much appreciated."

She finishes her packing and curls the strap of the satchel over her shoulder, and takes her journal from her older brother, curling it tightly against her chest. Zed eyes it longingly, the discoveries she must have made weigh heavily on his heart, to take a peek at her notes would leave him mystified for an entire day's time.

Joshua pushes them away with mere presence, curling his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. Savoring in the feeling that he gets to hold her against his side again. "You said you wanted to bring some flowers with us?" She smiles excitedly, nodding with vigor, and tugs him forward. Their older brothers part as they step between them.

…

"Welcome home, Eia."

He chuckles as she squeals happily, running forward into her room, jumping forward onto her bed. An actual mattress, soft feather filled pillows, blankets that she can curl up in again.

"That's not the only thing, Eia, you've been missed by more than just myself."

He steps aside, allowing her hound companion to run into her bedroom, laughing softly as it jumps up on her bed, licking excitedly at her face. She laughs brightly, hugging her arms around her companions furry neck, and the hound flops down on top of her.

It's a heartwarming reunion.


	86. The One With The Party

"Ava!" She stumbles under her friends weight as she falls limp. "You're too _heavy_!" She turns, letting her fall back against the stone wall, grimacing when her head slams back against the brick harshly. "Sorry, sorry." She too turns, slumping against the wall, sliding down to a sitting position and raises her hand lightly. "We went too far, Ava."

Iaso's friend doesn't respond and she doesn't expect to get an answer either.

Her hand falls to her lap, and she leans her head back against the damp brick wall behind her, looking down at her feet, she toes her heels off and breaths a sigh of relief. She loves her heels, getting all fancied up, and partying like any teenager would. But she also preferred her sneakers or boots over heels, any day. "Anubis is going to kill me." She was supposed to have been home by midnight. She makes a face as a thought crosses her mind. "My _dad _is going to kill me." She hadn't told him about the party. He wouldn't have approved. She wouldn't have been allowed to go.

Her head feels weird. She may be a bit drunk. Not as drunk as Ava was, she didn't pass out, but she'd had her fair share of drinks.

"We need a ride home, A." She looks up to the cloudless sky above them, staring into stars above her, and closes her eyes as she thinks over their possibilities. Oren would be mad, he's probably yell at her, and she didn't want to be yelled at. Costa and Ephraim would tell dad after they got them home. Zed would give an intricate, detailed list as to why she shouldn't do what she just did. He was a lecturer.

Nodding to herself, there was one, she could always count on him.

Folding her hands, she opens her eyes, looking up at the starry night above them. "Akriel, Ak, I need help. I messed up. Please come get us. Please don't tell dad. I'm invoking that baby sister rule. Please. Ak I need you." She waits, listening for any tall tale sign that he heard her calling to him, that he was coming, and heaved a sigh when she heard nothing but the rustling of a piece of paper as the breeze danced softly through the ally they were in, closing her eyes in defeat.

Iaso couldn't carry her friend all the way back to the ancient city, and she was under the impression that a responsible person wouldn't drink and fly, so they were left on their own in the dank little ally across from the club they'd just left.

"A responsible person would know when they're too _young _to go to such parties."

Her eyes fly open at the sound of his voice, and they meet his, he's kneeling in front of her, his elbows resting on his knees, and that gentle smile he's known for graces his features as he gazes upon her. He's in a clean, baggy tunic, a pair of knee high trousers, his hair in a small ponytail on top of his head and barefooted. "I'm good at—"

"Reading people." She smiles up at him. "I know." He winks at her playfully, gesturing to her form with his hand. "What are you _wearing_?"

The Nephilim girl looks down at herself. "Something really tight, sparkly, and skimpy."

"Did you borrow it from Asariel?"

Iaso grins and nods. "She has the best wardrobe."

"She gives Michael ulcers."

"Does that mean I give you guys ulcers too?"

He reaches forward to poke her nose lightly. "Only sometimes."

"You won't tell dad, right?"

The Virtue shakes his head. "I won't speak a word of it. You invoked our baby sister rule. I shan't speak a word of it." He nods to her unconscious friend. "Though the same can't be said for her. You didn't have as much as she did, did you?"

Iaso looks over to her friend and shakes her head. "No. Someone challenged her. Not me."

The mental specialist nods, reaching out to pat her cheek lightly, and she smiles at up at him. "Let's get you guys home then." He helps her climb to her feet, steadying her when she wobbles slightly, and steps over to her friend. Ava groans as he gently pulls her forward, stepping around her slightly to wind an arm under her knees, lifting her from the damp cement ground she sits on.

Akriel turns to look at his baby sister, smiling at her half lidded expression, and nodded for her to come closer. Iaso curls around his left arm, hugging herself to his side, and rests her head against his shoulder. "How are you going to get us both home at the same time?"

"It wouldn't be the first time I've flown with someone hanging from my back." He nudges her back a step. "Let me open my wings first." She nods, curling her arms around herself, watching as he rolls his shoulders, and his great wings unfurl from behind him, as he pulls them forth from the metaphysical plane of existence. She stares at his wings for a minute, their beautiful, white and brown, the long feathers speckled lightly, a dusting of color. He chuckles softly, catching her staring, and she blushes deeply. "Climb on, baby girl."

Not needing to be told twice, Iaso runs around him, curling her fingers over his shoulders, he bends slightly at the knee and she jumps up, pulling herself up to sit comfortably on his back, his wings stretch out from her sides, and she curls her arms around his neck lightly. "Hold on." She nods, ducking down to hide her face between his shoulders, she feels his muscles shift as he spreads his wings, feels him kneel slightly, and then there's a rush of wind. She peeks out from her hiding place, watching as they climb closer to the stars, the barrier between the two worlds shimmers in the pale moonlight. He doesn't spare her a glance, focusing on his flight path, on the place they'll break through the barrier.

"Thanks for coming." Though the wind howls around them, her voice carries through it just fine, just one of the perks of angelic hearing. He turns slightly, peering at her over his shoulder for a quick moment, and smiles as he turns his gaze back upwards. "I'd always come for you."

They break through the barrier and the sound of rushing wind falls silent, it echoes in her ears from the suddenness of it, he lifts them higher for a moment, and then closes his wings, pulling them inwards, they fall to the ground, he catches them in a semi crouch. Iaso slides down his back, stumbling backwards, she feels like she's underwater. It's a bit topsy turvy. She's had way too much to drink. She stumble's over her feet as she retreats unwillingly, and nearly tumbles over, when she's caught from behind.

Two large hands catch her around the middle and lift her back to her feet, steadying her for a moment until she gains her land legs again, and she smiles up at the one who caught her.

"Hey, Nis."

"Easy there." Nisroc returns her smile, the Captain of the Powers is in similar attire that her older brother is in, clearly having been pulled from bed, or relaxing in his room under the stars in the night. Someone's braided his hair into a bun up a top his head. "Got your land legs back?" She nods, and he squeezes her middle lightly before letting her go, she stumbles to the side as he makes to walk around her, and he catches her again by the arm with a raised eyebrow. "You sure?"

The Healer's Daughter grips at his arm tightly, and steadies herself, before giving a definitive nod. He eyes her carefully, but determines that she's sure this time, and lets go of her arm. Akriel smiles at her as he comes to stand beside her, holding his unconscious cargo out to her father, Nisroc smiles slightly, huffing gently as he lifts her from the Virtues arms and into his own, she hangs limply, but they know she's still alive when she groans softly.

The Virtue curls his arm around his baby sister's lower back, pulling her close to his side, as he nods to the unconscious Nephilim his brother and friend holds. "Don't be _too_ harsh on her, she's a teenager, they're supposed to act this way."

The Power snorts. "I won't be _too _harsh. I'll let her sleep in until about 9, then we'll do some training, some _very_ vigorous and lengthy training." He sniffs and frowns, his nose wrinkling, at the smell of the alcohol. "It's gonna be _quite _the hangover." But the smile returns when she mumble incoherently and curls closer to him.

Akriel snorts and shakes his head. "You guys have a good night."

Nisroc nods, looking up at them with a smile. "You too."

The Power turns away from them, back in the direction of the Pavilion, and Iaso looks up at her older brother as he gently guides her around, concerned for her friend. "He's really not gonna make her train, is he?"

He smiles down at her, steadying her when she stumbles over her feet, and pulls her back against him. Her arms slowly curls around his lower back, fingers curling into the back of his tunic, if only to keep her up on her feet. "He's all talk. He's going to let her sleep in until after noon. Don't let him fool you, Nisroc has had his fair share of bad hangovers, he knows how to treat them."

They come to stand at the bottom of the Infirmary, before the very first step, and look up at them with horror, at least, she does.

"Come here," he scoops her up off her feet. "You're barely walking as it is. You'll never make it up these stairs." She smiles, leaning against him, curling her left around his shoulder as he takes the first step for them. He looks down at her when they make it passed the tenth. "Did you have a good time, at least?"

She nods excitedly. "It was amazing!"

"Well, I'm glad you had a good time." He kisses her cheek lightly. "Because you, young lady, are grounded for the foreseeable future." Iaso nods, pouting slightly, and rests her head on his shoulder again. "You're _fifteen_. How did you even _manage _to get into that club?"

"Fake ID."

He pauses, turning to look down at her again, and she smiles up at him from against his shoulder. "You have a fake ID?"

"Not anymore?"

"You're going to give it to me, right?" He raises an eyebrow at her moment of hesitation and she nods meekly. "Most definitely grounded."

They crest the top of the stairs, and into the quiet Infirmary, the patients are all asleep and the healers on duty are doing silent tasks as they keep watch. She spies around for any signs of her father.

"He's in his office, or at least, he _was_ in his office."

Iaso nods, and closes her eyes, letting the swaying from his footsteps draw her inwards. The sea wasn't so choppy at the moment. They're just about to the stairs that lead up to the Loft anyway, just a few more paces, and she's off free.

Besides being grounded, of course.

"Akriel," she cringes inwardly at the voice. "Iaso."

Her brother comes to a halt, and she opens her eyes, meeting the brilliant blue eyes of her father. Raphael smiles at her, a bit sternly, but still winks at her playfully. The Nephilim girl licks her lips lightly. "Hi daddy."

"Hello daughter." He nods to his Virtue. "Ak."

"Boss."

He smiles at them both, turning back to the book he'd been reading, and she breaths a sigh of relief. "You two have a good night."

Akriel snorts, but carries her forward, taking the stairs that lead to the Loft one at a time. She looks up at him when they hit the landing, stepping into the vacant lounge. "He knows, doesn't he?"

"Baby girl, there is very _little _that happens in his Infirmary that he _doesn't _know about, sneaking his drunk daughter in is not one of those things."

"Is he…?"

He shakes his head, steering her into his room, it's empty, a rarity for how many people stay with him now. Avon was staying down in the ancient city with some friends. Gzel had snuck off to bother Oren some time before he'd been called by his baby sister and hadn't returned since, he figured they'd fallen asleep. Orion was staying with a friend down in the dorms for the night. "No. He knows all about our _'Baby Sister Rule' _and agrees with it."

Akriel sets her on her feet before the empty bed, and she falls to the side, over the bottom of his. He laughs softly, rummaging in his wardrobe for a clean tunic, and tosses it over top of her, sitting on the edge of the bed to pat her belly softly. "You can sleep with me if you want. Go get changed. You're going to want as much sleep as you can get."


	87. Laughter In The Garden

Akriel smiles to himself, standing outside the Garden, peering into the vast jungle-esque environment.

"Let's try this again."

He enters the Garden slowly. "Ooohhhh, baby brother." He calls out into the fauna. "I'm coming to get you."

The chirping of the birds in the vast Garden is the only response he gets, no sight nor sound of his precious, sneaky baby brother. Joshua has always been good at hiding from them when it came to them deciding he needed a bit of laughter in his life, their little Gardener worked much too hard, he'd use this time to put a bit of laughter into his quiet life and then force him to take a nap, when he was through with him.

He sees his brother's clippers and watering can resting lightly on the dirt path next to a rose bush, it had been the rose bush they had last seen him at, and he'd taken his moment of peace to find himself a nice hiding spot to hunker down in, hoping beyond hope that he would give up the chase and return to the Infirmary.

Akriel wasn't so easily deterred though.

He made a _promise_, and he _keeps _his promises.

And he doesn't make empty threats either.

"Oh," he spoke into the hush of the Garden. "You want me to _hunt _you down, do you?" He waits, ears tuned for the possible crack of a twig or shuffle of a bush. "You know how much _worse _it is if you make me find you, little willow." Not a sound of an angel, not a breath, not a single inkling of the other being hiding from him somewhere in the fauna. He chuckles as he leaves the evidence of his brother's being there laying in the soft dirt, walking slowly down the beaten path, gazing into the shadows of the trees and the dancing tall grass. "I'm going to have a nice go at that belly of yours." He speak out in the open, he knows that where ever his brother is hiding that he can hear him, and he hopes he can make a giggle of anticipation escape him, giving away his location. "It's going to get lots of love. It's so neglected. It needs as much attention as it can get." Silence echoes around him, the wind hums through the trees, the birds chirp above him, but nothing manmade. "And, let's not forget those little armpits of yours."

He pauses, listening for any sound that would indicate any direction, but there's nothing but the sounds of nature. This is Joshua's domain, he knows the Garden more then any of them do, save for their Archangel, he knows all the nook and crannies for one to hide away in. They always find him though, when they play these games of theirs, at the end of the day they get to have their way and their beloved little brother gets his.

Joshua is a workaholic, he works none stop, and sometimes he needs convinced to take a rest.

That's where they come in.

"And that bitty little neck, you could never stand it when we gave that neck some loving, those high pitched little giggles you give." He smiles, peering over a thick berry bush. "Music to our ears."

There it is. The slight rustle in the bushes. The sound he's been waiting for. He turns in the direction of the noise and steps through the bushes. The Virtue smiles as he comes to stand behind a tree, hands pressed lightly against trunk of the tree, he peers around it to the other side. His eyes meet those of forest green. "Found you."

Joshua shrieks lightly and pushes away from the tree, turning to run in the other direction, and he laughs softly. "I love this part." And darts around the tree to make chase.

They run through the trees, jumping over overturned tree trunks, off boulders strewn about, over bumbling creeks. Joshua nearly shakes him, through many twists and turns around trees of different kinds, but he manages to pick up the trail after a moments loss. He loves the chase, it's his favorite part, the delirious laughter that comes from his younger brother as he peers over his shoulder to see the distance between them makes his heart soar.

The chase doesn't usually end in such a manner as it did this time though.

He skids to a stop, watching with horrified wide eyes, as his brothers boot catches on a tree root, and he tumbles forward. His knees hit the ground hard as he rolls forward, rolling head over heels, he comes to a rocking stop. His legs spread in front of him, back curled inwards, he shakes his head to clear away the forming clouds.

"Josh!" The healer rushes forward, jumping over the tree root that had caught his brother up, and kneels behind him as he gently curls his fingers over his shoulders. "Josh, are you alright?"

His brother shakes his head, fists pressing lightly to his temples, and takes a deep breath. "I..I think so."

"Does anything hurt?" He feels at his head for any knots forming under his curls. "Your head? Your knees?"

"No…." Joshua shakes his head again. "No, I think I'm alright."

"Don't lie to me."

The Gardener shakes his head, this time in denial, and turns to look at him from over his shoulder. "I'm not, older brother."

"If you're sure?"

He nods this time. "I'm sure."

"Good." The Virtue smiles at him mischievously. "You know what's going to happen now?"

He giggles softly, nodding his head, and the older angel smiles at him fondly as he curls his fingers around his shoulders a bit tighter, to keep him in place, and steps around him to straddle his waist as he pushes him down into a laying position among the soft grass under them. "We haven't gotten to play together in months." He pokes him in the belly playfully. "Have you been taking care of yourself without our intervention?" The Gardener giggles lightly and nods his head, squirming under him, and he smiles at the younger angel. "You have? Good angel."

Joshua settles under him, his head cushioned on the soft grass, and he smiles down at him softly. "You know what I'm going to do now?" He pokes him in the belly gently and he giggles lightly, squirming from side to side, and swats at his fingers. "I'm going to give you the most torturous of all tickle tortures. To make up for lost time." He continues to poke him in the belly and sits back softly. "But where to start?" He reaches forward and wiggles a finger under his ear. "There's so many fun spots to go for."

"Ak, no!"

"Ak, _yes!_"

He digs his fingers into his belly and the Gardener jolts harshly, bursting into bright laughter, he squirms from side to side under him. "How about we start with this belly, here?" He spiders his fingers over his lower belly and Joshua shrieks under him. "I've always loved this belly." He stills his fingers for a moment and Joshua breathes in frantically. "What do you say?" He wiggles his fingers lightly. "Should I go at this belly?"

"Nohoho!"

He looms over him, smiling down at him, and digs his fingers back in. Joshua arches his back, shrieking in laughter, and drums his heels into the soft ground underneath him. He pulls his fingers back after a moment and Joshua heaves a deep breath, giggling softly underneath him, and he smiles at the sound, it is endearing from their quiet little Gardener.

The older brother pokes him in the belly, smiling at the adorable little giggles that erupt from him, winking at him playfully. "No?" He pokes a playful circle around his belly, before poking him in the belly button, relishing in the high pitched giggles he elicits for himself to bask in. "I shouldn't give this belly a good tickle?"

Joshua shakes his head again, jolting this way and that, trying to evade the fingers poking at his belly.

"Why not?" He wiggles his fingers in lightly, and he arches his back, shrieking with laughter. "I love tickling this little belly."

"Yohohouhuhu knoohohohoow whyhyhhyy!"

"I do know why, my adorably baby brother."

Joshua sucks in a breath. "Then why'd you ask!"

"Uh, uh, uh." He digs his fingers back in and the Gardener screams, throwing his head back, squirming from side to side. "Not in a position to be cheeky, you little wiggle worm." He looms over him, digging his fingers in deeper, and Joshua shrieks again, kicking his legs out behind him. "Laugh, you cheeky little monkey, that's it, laugh for me."

Looking back on it, he would claim that he was in a desperate position, there was no other reason he'd have slapped his older brother like he had. But he did, the echo of the slap bounces around them, and Akriel comes to a sudden pause, as they both stare at each other with wide eyes.

"Did you just _slap_ me?"

The Gardener giggles softly, shaking his head frantically, but they both know the truth.

He holds out a hand. "Let me see your hand." Joshua shakes his head again. "Josh, let me see your hand." Their little brother sets his hand on top of his, and he smacks it lightly with his other hand, pointing a finger down at him in warning. "No slapping, Joshua." His giggles pick up when he curls his fingers around his wrist. "You know what that gets you?" Joshua shrieks when he lifts his arm up over his head, looming over top of him, his older brother smirks down at him. "That gets you a whole minute of armpit tickles." This was a spot that was guarded with ones life, the kill spot, the spot that drove him up the wall, the spot that all his older brothers went after as much as they could, the spot that his archangel tortured until he apologized for sassing off to him one too many times.

It was _the _spot.

So, when he dug two fingers into his armpit and danced them around, the Gardener unashamedly squealed, tugged desperately on his arm, and kicked his legs out as if he were being electrocuted. He tugged and twisted and turned, managing to twist up onto his side, hiding his ticklish underarm from his brothers fingers. Akriel chuckled above him, spidering his fingers down his side, and he fell back over again, freeing his underarm for attack again. He tugs fruitlessly on his arm, his brothers fingers are like a clamp, and though he's strong in his own right, he's not nearly as strong at the Virtue is.

His older brother was a teaser too, though. Joshua inhaled deeply when he lifted his finger from his underarm and turned it in a small circle. "Are you ready for it?" His giggles increased. "It's comin' to get you." He shook his head frantically. "Are you ready for the tickles?" He is giggling unashamedly like he's a little fledgling again playing a childish game with one of his many older brothers. The finger touches down, poking and prodding and wiggling around playfully, and he screams in laughter, arching his back, tugging desperately on his arm again. "Do you want me to stop?"

He nods his head, squealing brightly when his hand shoots down to his belly, and then back up to his underarm. "You know what you have to do." Joshua giggled, trying as hard as he might to pucker his lips, leaning up to his older brother. Akriel smiles down at him. "You want to give big brother a kiss, little grasshopper?" He leans down, letting his brother peck his cheek, and he pulled his hands away from him. "You know how to soften big brother's heart don't you?"

Akriel climbs off his waist, stretching out next to him, and chuckles at the mess he's made of his beloved little grasshopper. "Are you gonna take a nap now?"

"I…I have to finish….I have to finish picking herbs for Z."

"No sir, you're going to take a nap." He tugs on his shoulder. "Roll over and I'll rub your shoulders."


	88. Late Night Cuddles

She lay awake in her bed staring up at the ceiling of their treehouse, listening to the achingly unfamiliar sounds of the Garden she had grown up in, she could hear laughter dancing through the trees in the wind of days gone by, when she had been a small fledgling running through the trees and eating berries from the bushes, playing in the Garden with her big brothers and cuddling up with her guardian when the day had come to an end as he told her bedtime stories.

But now it was all a mystery.

Eiael looked down to the end of her bed, her canine friend Dahlia was stretched out over her feet, snoring softly in her deep slumber. Slowly, as to not disturb her, she pulled her feet out from under the Australian shepherd and stepped over the edge of her bed. Crossing her room as silently as she can manage, as to not disturb her friend, of the others slumbering in their treehouse. She crosses the hall to the other side, and pushes the door open gently, peering inside.

He still sleeps curled up on his side.

But he is there. Warm and solid and _there_. She can almost feel the warmth of his chest as she cuddles up against him, feel the weight of his arm as it curls around her protectively, feel his lips press to her forehead as he kisses her goodnight.

She is no fledgling anymore though. She should not go climbing into her big brothers bed anymore an—

"Are you going to stand there all night or are you going to get under the blankets?" She looks up at the sound of his voice. "My arms getting tired." He is holding his blanket up for her.

Smiling, she steps away from the doorway, and crosses into his room. Sliding in next to him, she smiles as he curls his arm down around her, pulling the blanket down around them both, and he pulls her close. She hugs his arm and sighs comfortably, her eyes closing as he presses a kiss to her forehead and settles behind her.

"Goodnight, baby bird."

"Goodnight, big brother."


	89. Why I Was I Not Good Enough

She sits next to the tub as it fills with warm water, leaning against the cool porcelain side, watching the water ripple across the surface as it fills. Steam smoke up the mirror above the sink, her arms curled around her knees, naked in the privacy of their bathroom, with only herself, her thoughts, and her best friend. Dahlia watches her with big hazel eyes, snout resting on her front paws, a resolute shoulder to vent her thoughts on.

She reaches out for her dog companion, and Dahlia stands immediately, trodding the short distance between them, and nuzzles her outstretched hand with her silky head. "I've still got you and Josh, don't I Dahlia?" The shepherd licks her fingers with her warm tongue.

She'd run into Aba in the Garden today, they'd always been good friends, introduced when they were both barely old enough to walk unassisted. Her and Aba had both been victims of a cruel fate. Wronged by the ones they had thought they could trust with their lives. There were major differences in the lives they had lived when they were living in exile, Aba hadn't wanted to go into detail and Eia was good at reading people and knew that it was not something to push her about.

What brought her to this moment, was the persons who stood behind her second greatest friend, her brothers were there. Sure, they had brought their charges, but they were there. Just behind her. Abe had been close enough that had she stepped back she would have bumped into him. She remembers the day that Michael had exiled the one he had raised, she remembers how her older brothers had protested, how they had fought the guards there to keep them in place. They'd fought with every breath they had, until the fight had left them, watching as she plummeted through the barrier and disappeared from sight. She remembers Abraxos crying, he'd sobbed so hard that his knees had given out, he'd tried to jump after her.

Her own brothers hadn't done that.

They'd shamed her, they'd said she had shamed their flock, they'd spat her name with such anger. They'd stood by, motionless, without protest, as the Healer exiled her from his flock, as he cast her from their home, the only one she remembers seeing jump forward was Josh. Josh had stood by her the entire way, he was the last face she saw before she hit the barrier, reaching out as though to grab her before she disappeared from sight.

She wondered, did they even bat an eye, did they mourn her loss, did they even think about her.

She hadn't even done anything wrong.

She hadn't betrayed anyone.

Eiael leans to the side to turn the dial for the water, it sputters softly, but the water stops pouring into the full tub. Dahlia whines softly, leaning up, jumping up to lean on her folded knees, and licks softly at her cheeks. Laughing softly, the young Gardener pushes her away gently, wiping at the tears that trickle down her cheeks. "I'm okay, Lia." Her dog whines again, leaning in to lick her cheek again, nuzzle her soft snout against the damp skin. "I'm okay."

Was she though?

Pushing her canine friend down, she unfolds her knees, pushing herself up onto her knees, and then she climbs to her feet. Wiping away tears with her fingers, she grips the edge of the magnificent tub, and climbs over the edge to sit in the warm steaming water.

Rubbing at her eyes, she sucks in a deep breath, and slowly sinks under the surface of the water. She stays under there a long time, until her chest starts to burn, her lungs feel ready to explode, and she can't hold her breath any longer and she's forced to sit back up. Water drips down her face from her soaked matted curls, and she brushes them back over her head with her hands softly, looking up to the starry-like ceiling. Little lights are hung all around their little tree house, it's much bigger on the inside then it looks on the outside, and plants are everywhere. There's a thick oak tree that grows up through the middle of their bathroom, it has ropes tied around it, hooks hanging from the tightly drawn ropes, there is no way on Father's green Earth that they'd purposefully drill holes into the tree trunk for something as simple has a hook, her towel hangs on the hook, her clean night clothes rest on the small table underneath it.

Reaching to the side, she curls her fingers around the soap, passes it to the other hand, and reaches back out for the small washcloth sitting next to it. Silently she lathers the soap into the washcloth, sets it aside, and rubs her left shoulder, then down her left arm. She cleans herself in the silence of the bathroom, listening to the crickets outside by the stream, the soft rustling of the trees as the wind dances softly through, it's going to rain later that night, she can feel it in her bones. She drapes one of her legs over the edge of the tub to rub it with the washcloth, and then does the same with the other. After she'd done washing her body, she wrings the excess soap out of the cloth and sets it aside, taking the bar of lavender soap back up, she lathers it in her hands, and begins scrubbing through her curls gently. Taking another breath, she slides back under water, holding her breath as she rinses the soap from her curls. Sitting back up, her eyes closed, water dripping down her face, she flips her curls back over the back of her head and rubs the water from her eyes.

Looking over the side, she spies Dahlia resting silently on the rug next to the tub and smiles at the sight of her greatest friend. She'd taken her first steps holding onto her puppy friend for support. She'd walked to Josh, and tears build up in her eyes again, then she'd walked to Zed, then Ephraim, Constantine, Oren, Akriel. She'd walked last to the Healer, a giggling mess at all the excitement, as they clapped and hooted and yelled their excitement at her milestone. A tear slips from her eye into the bathwater, creating a small ripple across the still surface, she reaches up to wipe them away from her cheek and takes another deep breath, sliding back under the water.

Eiael stays under the water until her lungs start to burn again and she can't stay under any longer. When she resurfaces, more tears cause the water to ripple under her again.

Why had she not been good enough for her brothers to stand up for her in the same way Abraxas's brothers had stood up for her. Why didn't they fight for her like the Powers had fought for their baby sister. Why didn't they do something, step in for her, beg for understanding and clarity.

Why did they just stand there?

_Knock, knock, knock. _"Eia, are you alright?"

The water's cool now, she's been here for a while longer then she thought she had been, and she nods as she inhales a shaky breath. "I'm okay." She calls out to the concerned elder Gardener. "I'll be right out."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, Josh, I'll be right out."

"If you're sure."

She hears the wooden floor creak as he steps away from the door, Eia pulls the stopper from the tub, and grips the edge as she pulls herself to her feet. Dahlia backs away as she steps out onto the carpet beside the tub, waiting patiently for her to finish, as she reaches for her towel and folds her hair up in it, then for the second, to dry her body. She slips her undergarments on, steps into her soft silky bottoms carefully, and pulls her top on, buttoning up the front silently. Sighing, she rubs her head softly with the towel, and pulls it down, hanging it on the hook, over the warm vent for drying.

Crossing first to the small vanity, she grabs a cannister of coconut oil and the brush, and steps around her friend at the door. "Are we done, Lia?"

Dahlia barks softly, pawing at the door gently, and she laughs to herself softly as she turns the door handle and pulls the door open quietly. The dog trots out of the washroom, turns the corner, and makes her way to her food and water bowl in the kitchen area. Dahlia doesn't eat her food in one sitting, she snacks at it variously through the night.

Crossing the hall, she makes her way to their lounge, Josh is leaning back in one of the cushioned benches reading through a book silently. He flips a page, not noticing her entrance, and reads on. His legs are spread in a comfortable position, his hands resting on his thighs as he reads, basking in the warm and solitude of their home.

Smiling to herself, Eiael crosses the threshold of the lounge, and settles herself between his legs on the rugged floor. She smiles as she hears the book close with a soft thumb, it taps the top of her damp head lightly, as he sets it aside. His hands appear on the corner of her eyes, she passes the cannister of coconut oil to his left hand and the brush to his right, he's going to set the brush next to him and pour a small amount of oil into his right hand, rub his hands together, and work it into her damp curls.

She sighs in comfort as he massages the oil into her curls, rubbing at her scalp softly, and leans further back against the bottom of the cushioned bench.

"You were in there for a while." His fingers rub behind her ears. "Is everything okay?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

He hums from above her, tugging at the ends of her curls lightly, as he reaches for the brush, and begins brushing through her wild curls. "Talking about it will help."

"I said, I don't want to talk about it, Josh."

"Hey," he taps her head lightly with the brush. "No need to get mouthy. I'm just trying to help."

"Well, there's nothing to help, so butt out."

He pauses, reaching around to tap her lips in a soft warning. "Watch your mouth, young lady."

"I'm sorry, Josh." He hums again, returning to brushing her curls out, and lets her own the moment for herself. "Aba and her brothers came to the Garden today."

"They did, they all had a grand time."

Eiael looks down to her lap. "They stood up for her, Josh." The elder Gardener pauses in his brushing strokes. "I'm sorry?"

"I said, they stood up for her. They fought for her. They almost rebelled for her. They _all _did."

Joshua sets the brush aside, he's just brushing to brush at this point, and looks down at her as she slowly forms her words. She rubs at her right cheek, he's sure she's wiping away a tear, though he can't see it. "But only _you _stood up for me." Her words catch in her throat. "_Only _you."

"Oh, Eia." Joshua pats his thigh gently. "Come here, baby bird."

She uses his knee as a brace as she stands from between his legs, bent over as she slides onto his lap, curled into him. He wraps his arms around her protectively, tightly, and pulls her close, she sighs sadly, it's a shaky little sigh, as more tears escape down her cheeks. "You're the _only_ one."

She remembers how close she had been with her older brothers, all of them, each of them had once had a special relationship. Oren and Akriel would play with her in the Garden, chasing her around the soft grass, playing tag and hide and seek, swooping her up in their arms and throwing her up above their heads, they were so tall, they're still so tall. Zed would mix juices together, they'd sit in the shade of a fruit tree and mix different fruits juices together, and test each and every one. Ephraim would play hide and seek with her, he always found her, he'd tickle her when he found her, and they'd play again. He never complained about being the one to always count. Constantine would take her on adventures, they'd play games together in the trees, pretending they were anywhere else but where they were. In the jungles of Earth. One some foreign, newly created planet. Anywhere they could think of. They'd all been as close as close could be.

She never would have thought that they'd ever turn on her like they had.

"Why…Why wasn't I good enough?" He strokes his fingers down her cheek lightly as she laments. "Why didn't…Why didn't all _my _big brothers stand up for me, like they did for her?"

"You are more then good enough." He tucks a few strands of damp curls behind her ear. "They were all idiots. Spineless, brainless, idiots."

"They..They treated me like I was the enemy. Like _I _had done something wrong, Josh. They said…They said I deserved it."

His long fingers curl around her cheek. "You had done _nothing _wrong. It was a punishment, a punishment for me, but never for you." She sniffles softly, and his thumb rubs under her eye. "Definitely not for you."

Eia rubs at her nose lightly, reaching for his hand, she curls her fingers around his and pulls his hand down to hug to her chest. "Someone new is learning now, learning what you were teaching me, and she's _allowed_. _She's_ not being shunned. _She's_ not being exiled."

"Araton is evidence of their guilt. She is allowed to learn what you were being taught because of their guilt. There is much regret with what they did. There is not a day that goes by that they don't drown in guilt." He kisses the side of her head lightly. "Do not hate Araton for what they did, she's a good girl, I know you two could be good friends."

"They're replaced me, Josh."

"They could never replace you, baby bird, never. Not with anyone in the world."

"They didn't _fight _for _me, _big brother." Her words catch in her throat with a sob. "Why didn't they _love _me _enough_?"

He strokes his fingers through her curls gently. "I don't know, baby bird, I wish I could tell you why. They're cowards. Cowards who deserve the guilt that they drown in. I hope it haunts them for the rest of their long lives." He rubs her tears away. "Do not cry for them. They don't deserve your tears." She nods, but the tears don't stop, she's heartbroken, his older brothers have broken his charge's heart. Joshua just sits there, petting his fingers through her curls, listening to her sob against his chest, and vows to get revenge. No one breaks his baby bird's heart. "It's okay, baby bird, let it out."

She cries until she can't cry no more, and then she just lay there, a limp, exhausted mess.

He strokes his fingers down her cheek softly. "Do you want me to read to you?"

"Yes, please."


	90. We Have Faith In You

**AN: An AU arc where we explore Raph's time as leader of Heaven**

"The nerve of some people." He looks up at the sound of his voice, leaning back against his hands, trying to peer over the thick walls of orange flames. "Thinking they know what's best for the universe, please, they don't know what's best for the mud on the bottom of my boot." There's a strange metallic sound, metal hitting metal, and then he's shrinking back as a barrage of water overcomes him.

Squinting, he wipes the water from his eyes, glaring over his fingers at the other in the room with him. "Thank you, Oren."

"Just doing my job, sir."

He narrows his eyes, huffing lightly as he pushes himself up from his precarious position on the floor, and brushes his hands down his soaked shirt. "Your job is to soak me?"

"I think of it as collateral damage." His Captain shrugs cheekily. "You were in the way."

"I was '_in the way'_." He crosses his arms loosely over his soaked front. "I was stuck in the middle."

"Lucky shot, then."

"I'll show you a lucky shot." The Virtue laughs as he jumps out of his Archangel's reach. "Get back here!"

"Be happy it was me!" Oren ducks under his hand and pops up behind him. "Zaves was gonna come but I talked him out of it."

"I'd thank you, if I wasn't soaking wet." He finally catches the wily Virtue, Oren laughs, bracing against his side as he's caught in a headlock. The Virtue laughs softly. "This is a far cry from the archangel about to fry a couple no good heretics."

"I don't need to _'fry' _you." He reaches back. "I just have to dig in a little, right, here." Oren yelps, edging to the side, struggling with the arm curled around his neck, as fingers assault his side. "This is what you get. Soaking my like that. Who do you think you are?"

"Okay, okay, I give! I took advantage of the situation!"

He chuckles, pushing the Virtue away gently, Oren snorts and rubs at his side. "I came to bring you home. You're family is waiting for you."

"My family?" Raphael turns to look at him, the storm slowing to a slow drizzle around them, his eyes saddened by the reminder of what had happened to his family. Oren smiles at him sadly, stepping forward to meet at his side, all jokes and laughter aside. "Raph, I know you don't think you can do it, but you can. Everyone loves you, save for a few imbecilic idiots, you are the most loved angel in all of Heaven." He sets a hand over his shoulder lightly. "I know miss your brothers. But you're not alone, older brother, we're all here for you."

…

There was nothing like stepping back into ones home. Listening to the bustling chatter and footsteps, he smiled to himself as he tied the smock around his waist, smiling to his healers as he passes them. This is his home, these are his people, he's right where he belongs.

"Imma smite 'em!"

"Oh, no you won't." He bends as the fledgling runs up to him, swooping him up on his arm as he walks passed him, smiling down at the little boy on his arm, he pokes him in the pudgy little belly lightly. "You can barely hold a flame, let alone full on smite someone, you'll stay where I can see you."

"But they hurt you!"

"I'm stronger then I look." The Healer sets the fledgling on his feet and kneels to him. "You go hide and I'll come to find you."

Mihr giggles and nods excitedly, darting off to find a hiding spot, and the Healer watches him disappear with amusement, before turning to his Captain. "Have we any new patients, Oren?"

…

"Titus?" The Power looks up at the sound of his name, smiling at the approaching Archangel, and sets his assignments down on their table. He crosses his arms as the Archangel returns his smile. "Hello, Healer."

"How are you all doing, Tus?" He gestures to his shoulder. "How has that shoulder been treating you?"

"It's been alright." He rolls his shoulder. "It only bothers me when the weather changes." He smiles to the Archangel again. "What can I do for you?"

"Would you mind if I borrow Andrew and Daniel for the afternoon?"

The captain of the Guards raises an eyebrow at the request. "Of course not, be mindful though, they've been in a right foul mood all morning." He scratches at his cheek lightly. "Beats me what their problem is, I've been trying to figure it out all morning," he shrugs. "But, you're welcome to use them as you need them."

"Thank you, Tus, where might I find them?"

"Well, seeing as their mood, I sent them to their room to do some thinking." He hums softly. "I don't care _who_ you are. You don't mouth off to me and expect to get away with it."

…

"You came." He sets his drink down, curling his fingers into a light fist, as he takes in the appearance of the one who's betrayed them all. "I appreciate the courage that takes."

Castiel eyes him, as though he suspects he could take him if they were to break into a fight, the seraph has grown rather full of himself. Not that he would need them, but he has Andrew and Daniel as his back up. The Powers await just outside. He's well and truly protected. If he was going to be leading Heaven in his brothers wake, there was things that needed to be set out, certain rules that needed establishing.

Castiel was one who broke all those rules.

"What do you want?"

"Tomorrow," he sighs, his gaze wandering to the two guards posted silently before him, something has rifled their feathers quite drastically. "I've called a full assembly of the Holy Host." He turns his attention back to the traitor. "You'll kneel before me, and, well, pledge allegiance to the flag." His head tilts slightly. "Alright?"

"And, what flag is that?"

It's not a new feeling for him, though it is rare, but irritation is creeping up on him. "Me, Castiel." He turns his gaze away lest he snap at him, he doesn't have time to be playing such games, he's got a flock to lead, a few flocks to lead, fledglings to care for, patients to tend to. He's a busy man. "Allegiance to me?"

Castiel has the gall to sit forward, almost as if to challenge his birth right. "Are you joking?"

He returns his attention to the uppity seraph with a heat to it, it's a heat that would send other angels backing down, the Healer's temper is not one to be tested. "Do I _look _like I'm joking?"

"You never look like you're joking."

One of them snorts. He's not sure who, but one of them snorted, Andrew looks amused, but so does Daniel. Perhaps they both snorted. No matter, now's not the time, there's things he has to do for the betterment of the Host, at the moment.

"You have rebelled." He looks away from the guards and back to the seraph. "Against God, Heaven, and me." Leaning back in his chair, he reaches for his drink, and takes another sip. "And, now you will atone." Now, he gestures to the two guards, and they take their order as silently as they usually do. Titus has his guards trained well, they are an extension of him, and he is rather well mannered. Castiel rises to his feet when they make their appearance, reaching for his blade, but they wrestle him around, restraining him where he stands. "Castiel, I cannot begin to tell you the pleasure I take in this, it has been some time coming to you," he stands from his chair, downing the rest of his drink, he crosses his arms and straightens to his full height. He nearly towers heads over the three of them. "I charge you with treason against the Host, against the Thrones, and against Heaven."

"You can't do this!"

"I hereby sentence you to the Prison, until your case can be evaluated under a council of your peers, awaiting your trial in restraint."

"The angels won't stand for this!"

Raphael leans forward, towering over him. "It's the angels who _want_ this." He nods to Andrew and Daniel, and they wrestle him into manacles, and returns his gaze back to the seraph. "Let me tell you how one runs the Host. One does not run the Host, one does not lead the Host, one _listens_ to the Host. They weigh the wishes and desires of the Host and act accordingly." He eyes the seraph disdainfully and leans away. "One does not lead by fear and intimidation, Castiel, one leads by understanding and great care."

"You care about no one but yourself!"

"You don't know me at all, Castiel." He nods to the two guards and they drag the seraph back, holding firm despite his struggles. "Not at all." He turns to spare the two guards a smile, it takes the seraph by surprise, he'd never seen the stern Healer smile before. "Andrew, Daniel, once you deliver him you will return with me to the Infirmary. We shall explore this foul mood and come to the finish of it." He smirks at them. "And, yes, that is an order."


	91. Keeping Good Company

"Alright, Abner you go to your appointment," the Power slides into the vacated spot left over from the Sentry's leaving the bed, curling his arm around the younger angel carefully, Gadreel curls against him silently, settling back down into a cozy state against him. Abner watches them carefully, not moving an inch, watching his younger brother carefully. "He'll be alright, Abner, I'll watch out for him while you're gone."

"You'll be okay, Gaddy?"

The younger sentry nods against Titus's arm, rubbing his cheek against the smooth skin, and the Power brushes his fingers through his soft locks. "I'll be okay."

"Alright." He nods lightly. "I'll be back in a bit."

They nod in sync, watching him turn and leave the room, Gadreel looks up at his older brother and Titus smiles down at him. "How are you doing, little guy?"

He looks down a moment, smiling at the finger that pokes at his nose, and he looks back up to the Power he's curled up with. "I'm okay."

"Just okay?" He strokes a finger down the bridge of the younger sentry's nose. "Not good?"

"I'm okay."

"I'm glad that you're okay." He taps the tip of his nose and pulls his hand back, smiling down at him fondly. "Do you want to play a game?" Gadreel smiles up at him, nodding quietly, and he returns the smile in kind. "Okay, our game is called the giggle game." He pokes him in the belly, and the young sentry giggles softly. "For every giggle, you get one minute of this." He claws at his belly, and the young sentry throws his head back in a fit of laughter, his hands shooting down to grab at the Power's fingers. "Do you want to play the giggle game?"

Gadreel smiles, biting back a giggle, and nods up at him. The Power chuckles down at him and nods, poking him squarely in the belly, he jolts softly, but swallows his giggles, so he pokes a circle around his belly button playfully. "You're doing better then I thought you would." He pokes him in the side of the belly, where he knows he's rather sensitive, and pokes him there a few times. Gadreel bites his lip, shimmying under his finger, edging closer to his side as he tries to get away. "Oh, those giggles have to be building up in there, why don't you just one go, just one itty bitty giggle."

The young sentry shakes his head.

"No?" He chuckles down at him. "What if I poke a bit here?" He moves his finger down to poke at his lower belly, just under his belly button, and this time he can't hold back the torrent of giggles that escapes him, shimmying from side to side, jolting with every touch. "Oh, ho, that was a giggle!" He poses his fingers at the ready. "You know what that means!" He claws his fingers into the lower belly surface, sneaking his fingers up under the tunic to claw at the bare skin, and Gadreel shrieks with laughter, shimmying, rocking from side to side, arching his back in ticklishness. "One whole minute of tummy tickles!"

"Tus! Tus! Tickles!"

"You said you wanted to play the giggle game."

Their minute passes and he goes back to poking him, this time he pokes him in the side, Gadreel bites his tongue, edging away from him, so he switches to the other side, poking up and down in a playful pattern, and he scoots closer again. "Let me hear those giggles." He pokes him in the lower side. "I like hearing those giggles." He moves upwards along his side. "Let's try right here." And begins poking just above his highest rib.

His young sentry shriek's brightly. "Oh, more then a giggle!" And claws his fingers into his ribs, spidering them up and down his side. Gadreel squeals, turning onto his side, fingers curling around the Power's hand as he pulls it up to clutch to his chest, Titus chuckles, curling his fingers around the young sentry's hand in turn and reaches over with his free hand to stroke his hair back. "I think that's enough of the giggle game." Gadreel giggles as he settles down, hugging the Power's hand to his chest, he cuddles closer to him. "How about we take a nap now?"

The Power's youngest sentry nods tiredly. "I'd like a nap."

"Then lets take a nap."


	92. Consequences For The Ringleader

"Do I even want to know how you two got into the Armory?"

"A true master never divulges his secrets." Paul watches his guardian return his weapons to his shelf in the true Armory, his tone was light but his tone was stern, Nisroc had his opinions on their halfcocked self-assigned rescue mission. The Captain spares him a glance from over his shoulder. "A _'true master', _as you put it, would have planned a rescue mission well in advance."

Sasha makes a face at his tight tone, and steps forward, tugging at his tunic softly. "Are you mad?"

He sighs. "No, I'm not mad, though perhaps I should be." He crosses his arms and turns to face them directly. "I'm concerned. You should have gone to your flock leader with your concerns, but you did not, you decide to sneak out and come yourselves." The Power raises his hand and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Paul, Sashael, you could have gotten yourselves _killed_. What were you _thinking_?"

"We were worried about you, Nis, you didn't come back." Paul steps forward, curling his fingers around his arm, now was the time to plead their case, their hides were on the line now. "We knew something bad had happened. We _knew _something bad had happened. We _knew_. It would have taken too long for them to come up with an actual plan! They would have hurt you!"

"Did you ever stop to think how _I_ would have felt if something were to have happened to _you_?" He uncrosses his arms, curling his fingers around his charge's youthful hand, he grips it tight, reaching out to caress his cheek tenderly. "You and your brother mean more to me then anything in this world. It would have broken me if something had happened to you all, to you two specifically, I love the others, but none so much as I love you two."

"We knew what we were doing!"

"I'll give it to you, Paul, you most certainly did hold your own, but what would you have done if they called for reinforcements?" Nisroc looks between him and his younger brother. "You, Paul, are only in your fourth year of training. You haven't even truly learned to use your grace as a weapon yet. And you, Sasha, you are only in your second year, you only just started using real swords in combat training. You are both, admittedly, very skilled in your classes, but you are still just students, you had the upper hand, but the tables could have easily turned on you, and what would you have done then?"

Paul and Sasha exchange a look before averting their eyes from his, shuffling their feet over the stone flooring, Paul reaches up to curl the fingers of his free hand around the hand caressing his cheek gently, pulling it down to hug to his chest. Sasha stepped forward, curling his fingers into the Power's sleeve, tugging gently. "But we're okay. We didn't get hurt. We all made it back safely."

"But you might _not _have." Nisroc turns his attention to his youngest charge, his youngest boy, and Sasha flinched slightly at the heat in his stern eyes. They weren't usually so hot, so stern, only when he was upset at someone. And he was most certainly upset at them. "That's the part I keep focusing on, my young charge, that you _could _have _not_ walked away from that unscathed."

"But we _did_!"

"That doesn't sway the other end that could have come down on you."

He shakes his head firmly, tugging his hand free from his older boy's grip gently, releasing his own grip on his other hand, and curls his fingers around the back of their necks. "So, while I appreciate your intentions, I can't let this go without consequence."

They look up at him with wide eyes, looking much like they were fledglings again, about to be punished for doing something wrong. "What…What are you going to do?"

Nisroc smiles at them firmly. "I think you know." They both swallow thickly and nod, looking down to their feet, shuffling softly at the thought of it. It's been some time since they've felt that. He rubs the backs of their necks, and urges them forward gently, and they follow his urging as they step forward. "Let's get this over with."

He leads them from the Armory, turning for a brief moment to close the door behind him, they listen to the tumblers and locks click into place, and then he leads them down the hall towards the stairs that lead to the Pavilion above. They would take this to his room, where they may have the privacy they needed, and the comfort of home around them while they endured their lesson. He was not so cruel as to force them to take it in the dullness of his office. Their lounge is empty as they enter it, those with charges are dealing with the matter in their own way, and those without are taking this time to rest from the ordeal. Michael had pulled them from their duties to give the time needed to rest and recuperate, and to deal with things that needed dealing with, they had been through an ordeal and wouldn't allow them to return to their active duties until a weeks time.

They walked passed Puriel's room, the faint sounds of sobbing reverberating through the wooden door, and they cringed for their friend and his fate, a fate much like the one they were going to face. His fate had ended, now was his time for comfort, and Puriel was good at comforting people.

They walked passed Hasmal and Haniel's room, managing a peek in through the crack between the door and the doorframe, they had pushed their beds together, laying curled together in the middle whispering to each other softly a conversation that was meant for their ears alone. Hasmal's hand was raised slightly, flames dancing from his fingertips, he hadn't been allowed to come with them on their mission, left behind to wait for their return. He had spent most of the time sleeping, it had been a bad couple of weeks he was going through, and Abner had been tasked with ensuring he took his tonic every four to six hours while Haniel and the others were away. Haniel takes hold of his wrist and pulls his hand down, blowing out the small flickering flames, pressing a kiss to his palm, he folds the hand down on his chest.

They cross between Abraxos' and Abraxas's room, her door is open, her bedroom empty, but Abe's room is full. They peek in as they pass his room too, his door is slightly more open then Haniel's had been, and he's curled up on his side, one arm outstretched over his pillow, the other curled around his younger sister's waist, his legs curled up under the blankets. Abraxas is laying next to him, his head resting on his outstretched arm, her legs folded over his, playing with her hands above her as she chatters softly on and on about all the things he's missed while he was gone. He's humming every now and them in acknowledgement to her words, but they know better, and they're sure that she does too, he's half asleep.

The last room the cross in front of is Titus's room, his door is closed too, for privacy, and they flinch at the sharp _whap _of leather hitting flesh, and the howl that comes after, another _whap _and a muffled sob. Sasha flinches harder then his brother does, though he's learned that Nis would never harm him just to harm him, and he never takes it too far, some fears are instilled deeper then others.

Fingers curl around his hand tightly and he turns to look, Paul smiles at him slightly, encouragingly, assurance in his eyes.

_It's just Nis, it'll be okay._

As if sensing his fear, he's always has this fear when he's about to be punished, Nisroc squeezes the back of his neck assuring him.

They enter his room, where they're about to meet their own fate, and he releases them, gesturing to one corner and then the other. "Go to your separate corners." They nod silently, Paul squeezes his hand once more, before they part from each other's sides. They listen to their guardian heave a sigh, as he walks around his room to tend to things that need tending to, Paul cringes at the sound of his wardrobe door snapping closed, there's only one reason he'd be fishing in his wardrobe.

The chair at his desk squeaks as he sits in it, and he sighs again, leaning back slightly. "Sashael, come here." The youngest of his charges stiffens at the call of his name, and he nods stiffly, turning from his corner to face his guardian. Despite the situation they're in, Nisroc still smiles at him, and it alleviates the tension gathering in his shoulders slightly. He gestures to the vanity. "Get the hairbrush on your way over." He whines softly as he nods, turning for the vanity, his fingers curl around the handle of the brush, and he turns back around to head back in the direction of his demise. The hairbrush is old and well used, it's a thick cherry wooden hairbrush, it's used for more then just brushing hair. Nisroc holds his hand out expectantly, and the young man passes the hair brush over to him, sighing, the Power pats his thigh. "Over." Sasha slowly lowers himself to position himself as he needs to, but he's stopped by a large hand pushing against his chest. "Bare yourself first."

"But, Nis—"

"Sashael."

He whines again, slowly unbuckling the belt from around his waist, and lifts his tunic slightly as he shimmies his trousers down. Ready for his stern lesson, he lowers himself over the Power's thigh, gripping at his ankle tightly as the back of the brush is pressed to his left cheek. "Fifteen in total. You will count them."

Sasha nods, going stiff when the brush is pulled away, he hears it hiss through the air as it's pulled back and brought back down. It's with a loud, sharp _whap _that it lands solidly against his left cheek. He jumps, yelling out at the sudden sting, he can never truly prepare himself despite how much he tries to. He tallies off the first one with a yell and a shaky breath. The second one lands just as sharply against his right cheek, and a steady rhythm forms between each swat, one cheek after the other, until he sobs out the tenth one. The lesson has been taught, now its time to ensure its remembered, and he adjusts the position of his leg slightly. Sasha sobs over his knee, falling forward slightly at the change in position, the smacks that cut into his sit spots only count as one, the swat against the undercurve of his bottom only counts as one, and the swats at the upper portion of his thighs only counts as one. With one final harsher swat to either cheek, the Power pulls his hand back, reaching slightly behind him to set the brush down, rubbing a hand over the chastised youngling's lower back. Sasha chokes on a sob, and now that the lesson is over, he reaches back to rub at his burning bare bottom. "Come on, on your feet." He struggles to get to his feet and would have fallen forward had his guardian not been helping him back up. "Easy, easy." Once he's straight, he rubs miserably at his burning bottom, sniffling and tearfully crying as he bends over to pull his trousers back up, his hands are shaking, his fingers fumble with buckling his belt back up, but large warm fingers swat his out of the way softly and help him tighten his belt and buckle it securely, threading the excess through the band on the belt and helps him tuck his tunic back under his belt, just like they had when he had been a small fledgling.

For a moment, he fears that his guardian is going to send him back to his corner without any comfort after the whole ordeal, when he makes no semblance of intentions to stand from where he's seated. But then he does, when he's sure he's about to be told to return to his corner, his guardian huffs as he lifts himself from his chair, and he opens his arms for him. "Come here, my little fledgling."

Sasha sniffles, hiccupping on a sob, and dives into his arms. He hugs himself as close as he can manage, nuzzling into his chest deeply, rubbing his cheek against the Power's tunic. He's sobbing like a fledgling, his butt hurts, and he just wants to be held. Fingers stroke at the back of his head, soft, deep crooning hushes his cries until he's just hugging himself close to his guardian and sniffling and hiccupping. "There you go, it's alright." He pulls him away slightly, cradling his face in his hands, and leans forward to brush a kiss to his forehead. "Never put yourself into willing danger like that again, do you understand me?"

He looks down, despite the grip on his head tilting it back. "I understand." Nisroc smiles down at him, leaning down to press their foreheads together, and brushes his nose against his own. "Good." He kisses his nose and pats his right cheek lightly. "Go stand back in your corner." Sasha whines and sniffles, nodding at his order, and those large, warm hands release their hold on his cheeks as he straightens out, nodding to the corner he had come from.

Nisroc watches him go and sighs again, rubbing at his cheek lightly, and leans against the side of the desk under the window. One down, one more to go, he hated teaching these lessons, who would _want _to make their loved ones cry in such a wretched manner.

"Paul." His brave, though mischievous boy flinches, ducking down slightly as his name is called, his turn coming to pass. "Come here, Paul."

The elder of the two boys ducks his head for a moment, and turns slowly to face him, he sets a firm expression over his features and beckons him forward. Paul drags his feet, though he does manage his way across the room at a snails pace, Nisroc is patient, so he waits. Paul comes to stand before him, and he gestures to the desk beside him, his boy bites his lip. "Clear the desk, Paul."

He cringes, and nods slightly, doing as he was told, he reaches out to clear the desk of its things. Moving them to the side, clearing a place, where he was sure he would be draping himself over for his own consequence. His fingers brush over the leather belt lightly as he sets a book next to it, and he chances a plea, turning to look at his guardian with wide eyes "Nis, please." Nisroc shakes his head, pointing with the finger he had been tapping against his lips, down to the desk. "Clear it." Paul nods quickly, and looks back down at the desk he's clearing, stepping back when he clears the middle of the desk. The Captain unfolds his arms and straightens once more, turning towards him more directly, he takes the belt into hand. "Bare yourself, Paul."

The boy whines, looking up at him with wide, puppy-like eyes. "Please, Nis."

"Paul."

He gulps, hands shaking, he reaches for the belt around his waist. He takes his time undoing it, the longer he takes, the longer he staves off the sting of his comeuppance. But he can't outlast his guardians patience, and sooner rather than later, he's undone the buckle of his belt and shimmies his trousers down.

Nisroc nods in approval and gestures to the cleared desk with the belt. "Over."

The young man whines softly, but folds over the edge of the desk, curling his arms under him, he buries his face into his arms to hide away him compromising position. A hand presses to his lower back, as though to keep him from moving, and he takes a deep breath when the belt presses to his bare cheeks. "Fifteen lashes. Count them."

He stiffens when the belt is pulled away, closing his eyes in preparation, he hears the whistle as it flies down through the air. Paul howls, jumping in place, when the belt makes impact, screaming out the first of a long count. Nisroc isn't pulling his swings, he's upset, they've really upset him. By the eighth thrash he's sobbing, jumping in place when the nineth is laid down, his face buried in his arms as he sobs his heart out like a small fledgling being chastised by their guardian for doing wrong. His hands fly back just as the belt comes down for the final blow, harsher than all the others, the one to leave a lasting impression.

Before he can realize in the attempt at inhibition, the belt lands, strapping over his fingers, and he screams at the stinging sensation. He ignores his hands for a moment, hopping in place from the sting in his bottom, tugging his trousers back up and ties them in place with shaking, stinging fingers.

He leaves his belt where it lays on the floor.

Then he takes notice of his stinging hands, a deep red line stretches over the tops of his fingers, and it only makes him cry harder. His butt hurts, his fingers hurt, everything hurts. "Paul!" Large, warm hands reach for his, pulling them away from his chest, out into the open for inspection. "This is why I always tell you to keep your hands in front of you."

"Hurts, Nis! Hurts!"

He raises his hands up, pressing a kiss to backs of the fingers of both hands, he looks up at him softly. "We'll get some ice for your fingers, alright?"

Paul sniffles miserably and nods, looking up at him with bloodshot eyes. "Can we cuddle too?"

The Power chuckles softly. "Yes, we can cuddle too." He kisses his fingers again and guides him around to his bed. "You lay down and I'll be back with some ice."

Paul nods, leaning into him for a moment, before turning away to curl into his blankets. Nisroc pulls Sasha out of his corner before he leaves them for a moment, gesturing him towards his bed, and the youngest of his two charges scurries to lay down in his blankets. Shaking his head fondly, he turns, making his leave for a moment to get a thing of ice.

He returns a moment later, Sasha's curled around one of his pillows, dozing off silently. Paul is blowing on his fingers, they burn, and when he touches a finger to the patch of red skin, it's warm to the touch. "Here, little guy, let these sit on those fingers for a bit to keep the swelling down." The young man nods, letting the ice sit over the tops of his fingers, he sniffles and looks up at him. "Cuddles now?"

"Yes, cuddles now."

Sasha curls around his left arm completely and drifts off to sleep, content now, and Paul sidles up under his right arm, pressing against his side, using his chest as a pillow, he sniffles as he sets his fingers over the blanket.

Nisroc scratches at the side of his head softly. "Never do that again, okay?"

He nods, cuddling in closer. "Okay, Nis."


	93. Hair Scare

Eia giggled softly, elbowing her friend in the side, Aba turned to look at her as she finished snipping the dead ends of her older brother's long hair. Nisroc was proud of his long hair, it was his pride, he took rather good care of it. Everyone knew how he was when it came to his hair. The young gardener held her hand out for the scissors, Aba passed them to her with a raised eyebrow, watching as she gathered his hand up in her hand and positioned the scissors at the nap of his neck, making sure he could feel it. She opened the scissors for a long minute, and snapped them shut, tugging lightly on his hair as she did.

"Oops."

The Power falls still, his hand pausing in its writing in the file he was working on, at her short statement. "Oops? What do you mean _'oops'_?"

"I…umm...I'm sorry."

He drops his quill. "Sorry?" His tone becomes slightly frantic. "What are you sorry about?"

Abraxas curls her fingers over her lips to keep from laughing at his frantic expression.

"I think I cut off more then I should."

"You _think_?" He reaches back to feel for his hair, and Eiael moves it to the side gently, trying not to tug on it, to keep it from his reach. "I'm sorry. It'll grow back."

"You _didn't_." He reaches up with his other hand, Eia and Aba shake with their suppressed laughter, as he became increasingly distraught. "You _cut _my _hair_!" He reaches back with both hands, they watch his fingers reach for his hair, Eia's sure to keep it from his reach. "It took my _years _to get it like that!"

"Calm down, Nis." Eiael giggles lightly. "It's just _hair_."

"I loved my hair!" He jumps from his chair, he's too tall for Eia to maintain her grip on his hair, and reaches back frantically to feel at the back of his head. "I can't—" He cuts himself off as he pulls his long hair around, it drapes over his shoulders, and he looks down at the smoothly cut ends. "You—"

He spins around just as Aba turns to her friend, grabbing the ends of her hair, she imitates him. "Oh, my _hair_! I can't believe my _hair_!"

Next to her, Eiael laughs brightly, clutching at her curls. "Not my beautiful hair! Anything but that!"

The Captain crosses his arms lightly. "I did _not _sound like that."

Aba elbowed her friend, Eia giggled as she turned to look at her, twirling curls around her fingers. "It's the end of the world!"

"Haha, funny joke." Nisroc glares at them, there's no malice in it, it's a playful glare. "You two think you're so funny." He surges forward for them, catching them both around the waist. "Now it's my turn."


	94. Dealings With The Twins

He taps his fingers against the clipboard in his hand as he makes his way down the Axis towards the front gates, he has a long day of checking in with his guards, and there's no others better to start with then the twins. They always bring a smile to his features, their mischievous and cheeky, always trying to confuse those who can't tell them apart.

He can. He knows them like he knows the back of his hand.

Just above the heads of those milling about before the gates, he can see them, leaning back against the pillars they stand beside, resting their eyes for a moment at the lack of attention.

Crossing between the last two in his way, he makes his way up the stairs slowly, crossing his arms loosely as he comes to stand between them. They make no notion to acknowledging his presence.

So, he clears his throat.

The two of them jump forward, falling into a defensive position, and he chuckles at the pair of them.

"You two need to start going to bed at a reasonable hour." He looks between the two of them. "What do you even do so late?"

Andrew exchanges a glance with his twin brother. "Poker." Daniel smirks. "Drew's got no poker face." Andrew shoves him lightly. "You only win because you cheat." His brother shoves him back. "You're just a sore loser."

"Andrew, Daniel." Titus decides its best to intervene before an actual argument breaks out between them. "Go get some sleep. You two have a bedtime tonight." They make a face at him. "Yes, a bedtime, just as the first stars begin to twinkle."

"But—But—" The one looks over to his brother, Daniel stares at him with wide eyes, finishing the statement his brother started. "But that's so _early_!"

"It is, isn't it?" The Power crosses his arms lightly. "A good nights sleep will do you two some good."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Andrew rushes forward, grasping at the front of his tunic tightly, and he looks down at him expectantly. Whatever it is he's going to say is going to be good. "What if we promise to go to bed early, with no bedtime?"

He rests his hands on his hips. "Drew, do you take me for an idiot?" He reaches out to pat his cheek. "How about a counter offer, you two come stay with me tonight?"

"How is that a counter offer?"

"I wasn't done, you impatient, little guy." He pats his cheek again. "You two come stay with me and I'll scratch your heads until you fall asleep."

"You'll—"

"No, wait, Drew," his brother jumps forward, clapping a hand around his mouth, Drew debates the pros and cons of licking his hand. "I wanna see how far he'll take this." Titus raises an eyebrow at his young guard. "You'll scratch behind the ears?"

The captain of the guards chuckles lightly, reaching out to scratch a few fingers behind his right ear, his young guard sighs in content, and leans into his hand. "Of course, I would, you little puppy."

Andrew shoves his brother away slightly. "Me next, me next."

Titus smiles at him, reaching over to scratch behind his ear too. "Does that sound like a suitable counter offer?"

"I don't know, it's tempting, but we're not so easily swayed."

"I see," he tucks his clipboard under his arm and reaches down to rub his belly. "How about I throw in a few belly rubs too."

Daniel smacks his brother's arm lightly. "Drew, Drew, I like those things! I like them a lot!"

"Me too. Me too." He reaches out to shake the Power's hand. "Deal! You have yourself a deal!"

"Good." Titus pats them both on the cheek. "I'll see you two tonight."


	95. Aeshma, The Prisons Guard

He sighed as he made his way down the Axis for the Prison, these guards needed special looking after, the things they had seen would shake anyone to their core, and they things they had been forced to _do_, even more so. He checked in with these guards of his daily, to ensure that they were caring for themselves, to ensure they were keeping up with their assigned treatment, there were a couple that required more convincing then the others did to talk to their assigned healer, and he was always there to provide that convincing when it was needed.

No one could ever say that he didn't take good care of his guards.

Titus smiled at his young guard as he approached the foreboding doors of the Prison, the smile was returned in kind, he didn't have very many female guards, but the ones he did have he cherished. He'd be quick to admit that, perhaps, they were more dangerous then the males. Living under the constant notion that they had something to prove.

He tucks the clipboard against his side and opens his arms for a greeting hug. "Hello, Aeshma." She smiles, dropping her position to fall into his embrace, Titus gives the warmest hugs. "How are you doing?"

"I am doing well." She steps out of his embrace and straightens again, curling the fingers of her right hand around the hilt of her sword, he nods at her update. "All things considered."

"Progress is progress." He reaches out and pats her cheek lightly, she smiles up at him, he returns her smile and tucks a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. "Are you still talking with Ohoel like you're supposed to?"

She looks down to her feet, scuffing her boot against the stone under them, and he curls the fingers of his right hand around the clipboard he carries, as he lifts his hands up to rest on his hips. "Aeshma, you know you're supposed to talk to him three times a week."

"I know, Tus." Aeshma kicks at the ground softly, and looks back up to meet his eyes, she looks sheepish and he knows he can't be too cross with her. "But it's so awkward. He pretends to understand but he _doesn't_. He says he's sorry and, and, that just makes me so angry. Like, why's he apologizing, what's apologizing going to fix, it already happened." He raises an eyebrow when she presses her hands to her head. "He's so _monotone_! Talking to a _brick wall_ is more entertaining! If I have to talk to him _one _more day I'm going to _explode!_"

The Power chuckles softly, reaching out to pat her cheek fondly. "Well, let's not do that, I'd miss you if you went and exploded, I'll talk to Akriel and see if we can't find someone else to talk with."

"Oh, Tus, you're the best!"

"I'm only as great as you guys are." He pulls the clipboard around, checking off her name, and taps his writing utensil against the hard surface. "You're staying up with your training?"

"Yes, sir."

He looks up from over his clipboard. "What happens to those who call me '_sir'_, missy?"

Aeshma giggles softly and backs away a step. "Yes, Tus, I'm staying up with my training."

"That's what I thought you'd said."

"No incidents to report?"

"None."

"Very good." He lowers his clipboard and smiles to her again. "Keep up the good work."

"Yes, sir."

Titus heaves a sigh, tucking his clipboard into his belt, he snags her forward by the front of her tunic. "That's it." He curls his arms around her tightly, smooshing her against his chest, she yelps and grips at the front of his tunic. "You're going to get it."


	96. The Prison Guards

He smiled to the guard posted on the outside, patting her shoulder lightly, Aeshma smiles at him and opens the door to the Prison for him. He hates making his rounds through this place, it's always so dreary, and though there is no longer any torturing going on under the new command of the place, the screams still echo through the halls when one stands in one place for too long. It's left a shadow, a gloominess over this place, not that it's ever been a happy feeling that accompanies the Prison, it's darkness seems amplified because of the history this place has.

There's not many prisoners now, the few that can't be released into the general population, though there was many who found themselves trapped behind these bars, there were only a few who truly deserved it.

Naomi used to have a place here, but she'd been given the ultimate consequence by the Healer, and thus her cell was cleared out and ready for use should it arise. Zachariah has a cell here, he's a spiteful little angel, and would be here for the rest of his days, unless someone thought he was one deserving of a second chance. And that second chance would only come in the form of the Healer and the Viceroy, it was them he had betrayed, and it was them who could give clemency. Metatron has a cell her too, his crimes vast and long listed, a good one for trying ones patience. He still had his grand disillusions that he was meant to have a Throne among the Council, he was the scribe of _God_, he was more important than any of them. Father had a new scribe, young Ishariel, she was a breath of fresh air against the older scribe; sarcastic, energetic, some might even say a bit loose lipped. She was not afraid to make her opinions known. Those were the most well known prisoners.

Most noticeably, on his part though, the place just beyond the door was empty.

There was a guard posted on the outside of the Prisons entrance, and on the inside of the Prisons entrance, no one got in and out without passing one of the guards.

Setting his clipboard on the empty stool, he looks about in the empty cells, there was no sign of the one meant to be posted here. "Teme?"

His voice echoed off the stone walls as it travelled down the long hall of empty cells, and he frowned at the lack of return, looking down the hall to his right, he waited for a moment for anything to show itself. "Temeluch?" And then down the hall on his left. Nothing but the echo of his own voice.

"I'm here."

Titus sighs in relief at the return of his call, it comes from before him, his guard walks slowly down the halls of cells towards him, his fingers curled around the staff of his spear loosely. Temeluch smiles at him lightly, and he returns the gesture, reaching forward as he comes to stand before him to squeeze his shoulders firmly. "Where were you?"

"I was getting a drink."

The Power nods at him, taking in his appearance, the bags under his eyes aren't as pronounced as they were previously, he's been sleeping better in this found peace between them all once more. The guards of the Prison needed just a bit more attention then the others did, the things they had seen, the things that had been forced to participate in, it left them haunted. He checked in on them regularly, they needed extra care, a helping hand to get them better again. Temeluch and Aeshma guarded the door, inside and out, often the last semblance of freedom some had seen as they were dragged to their fate. He was sure there was a number of souls who had latched onto the two guards as they were carried in, begging for help, begging for understanding, begging for the freedom they could not provide.

There had been many escape attempts that had been made, and it had been Temeluch who had the task of stopping them from doing so, catching them at the door and passing them back to the guards that would come running up for them, watching as they screamed as they were dragged away again.

"How are you doing, Teme?"

"I'm okay. I talk to Shamsiel every morning like I'm supposed to."

"Good boy." He pats his cheek lightly. "And your nightmares?"

Teme rubs at his head lightly. "Not as frequent as they were." He leans around the Power to set his spear to lean on the stone wall. "The only ones we guard now are Zachariah and Metatron." He makes a face. "I've never wanted to harm someone so much in my lifetime. All he does is go on and on and repeat."

"The fact that you haven't succumbed to such temptation makes me immensely proud."

"I am alright." The guard shrugs lightly. "As alright as one can expect."

"Good, good." Titus eyes him carefully, well fed, not too spent, sleeping as he should, and taking care of himself as he should. "You look well."

"I feel well."

He chuckles lightly. "Good, good." Titus pokes his belly swiftly. "And, you remember to smile?"

Temeluch smiles, stepping away from him, curling an arm around his belly. "I do. I don't need reminded."

The tall Power chuckles again, reaching forward to poke him again, snorting when his hand is smacked away. "Are you sure?" He manages to sneak in a poke just under his hand. "I'm be more than happy to assist you."

"I don't need help. I'm fine."

"If you're sure." He wiggles a few fingers at the guard anyway and Temeluch swallows a giggle, his captain knows how to turn them into squirming fledglings, he watches his fingers very closely. "Remember when you were a small, runt of a fledgling, riding around on my foot, following me everywhere I went." He wiggles his fingers again. "And, how I'd make you squeal like the little fledgling you were." He leans forward. "I could do that again."

"Please, don't."

The Power smiles, poking him in the side playfully. "Why?" He pokes him again and the guard jumps slightly. "Still as sensitive as you were all that time ago?"

"Sir, please."

"You calling me that only makes me want to do it even more."

"_Tus!" _Teme jumps away from him when he reaches out again. "Please! _Please!_"

"Maybe not here." He leans over for his clipboard. "But I'll have you rolling in the grass of the Garden again."

Titus smiles at him from over his clipboard. "But not here. Since you asked so nicely." He taps his clipboard with his quill. "Are you keeping up with your training?"

"Training?"

"If you decide to be cheeky about it," he points a finger at him warningly. "I'll change my mind."

"I'm keeping up on my training."

"Good boy." He checks off something. "Any incidents to report?"

"None over here. Though, Sorath is half about ready to punch Metatron in the face."

"I see," Titus tucks his clipboard under his arm, gesturing for the door at the other end of the hall. "Are they just beyond there?"

"Just beyond there, the prisoners were just fed."

"I thank you, Teme, you may return to your duty."

The guard of the door nods, taking his spear back in hand, he sits on the stool to the side of the door. Titus smiles at him as he steps forward, patting his head as he leaves him to sit there, listening to him tap on the metal door beside him, his sister tapping back from outside, they never cease to amaze him.

Just beyond the hall, behind the door that separates one wing from the other, is where they keep the prisoners. Where the other guards are located, just posted outside the cells, Zachariah has learned to keep quiet, Metatron was still learning that particular lesson.

Titus examines his clipboard as he closes the door behind him. "Sorath, put him down."

"He needs to learn to close his mouth."

"I said," the Power looks up at him from over his clipboard. "To put him down."

"Or what?"

"If you need reminded on what happens to those who disobey my order, I can remind you," he lowers his clipboard. "Right here, right now, for everyone here to see."

Sorath had been a Power elect once, his attitude had taken that privilege from him, but Titus was never one to give up on those who needed some assistance. Sorath was talented in his position, he knew his way around a sword, but his temper was a short fuse, that was one of his only weaknesses. He'd taken Sorath under wing, showed him what happens when he loses his temper, and helped him control his anger.

It was a work in progress.

Sorath drops the exiled scribe in his cell and steps back. "No, I don't need to be reminded."

"Good." The Power crosses easily to his side, grips his sleeve, and tugs him away from the cell door. "Sit back down, here." He scratches a few fingers through his hair. "Take a deep breath." Sorath takes a deep inhale of breath. A moment passes and he smacks him lightly over the head. "Let it out, you little idiot."

Sorath snorts as he lets his breath go. "You only said to hold it."

"I'll hold _you_." He grips the back of his tunic, by the collar, and scratches a finger behind his left ear. The temperamental guard slaps a hand over his mouth before a fledgling like giggle can escape his lips. "Is he getting on your nerves, Sora?"

"He makes me want to strangle him."

Titus nods. "Don't do that, you're doing so good Sora, you've been minding your temper." He tugs at his ear lightly. "I haven't had a report come across my desk in nearly three months."

The Power rubs his head lightly, turning to the cell behind them, he snaps his arm through the cell bars and snags the uppity scribe up by the scruff of his plain tunic. "You're going to shut your mouth, sit on your cot, and eat your supper."

"I—"

"Metatron." The Power pulls him close, his front pressing against the bars, until they're face to face. "You _are_ going shut your mouth, sit on your cot, and _eat _your supper. Or so help me, I will come in there, and I _know _you don't want that."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Try my patience. Who would tell on me, myself, or my guards? See who comes out on this one, Metatron." He shoves the prisoner back. "Now, shut up, and eat." The scribe stumbles back, stunned into silence, and sits on his cot to eat his supper.

He turns to his other two guards. "Osmadiel, Rahab, how are you two doing?"

"Hi Tus!" His female guard rushes forward, hugging him around the chest tightly, and he laughs softly as he circles his arms around her. "Hello, Ra."

Rahab is a rarity among those that take station at the Prison, her disposition is too bright for such a dreary place, he's offered her time and time again to be reassigned but she always takes to coming back here every time. No hesitation. She loved her station.

She smiles and bounces back, tucking a stray red curl behind her ear. "We missed you, Tus!"

"You missed little old me?"

"You're not little!" She throws her hands out. "You're _huge_!"

Titus narrows is eyes slightly. "You mean tall, right, _'huge' _as in _'tall'_, right?"

"Well, yea!" She smiles up at him brightly. "You're a giant!"

"And you, you're a little sprite, you know that?" He pokes her nose and she giggles softly, hugging him again before stepping back for her stool. Osmadiel smiles up at him. "I've been well."

"Good, good." He turns to the one beside Sorath. "And, you, Sabaoth?"

"I'm doing well, too, Tus."

"That's great to hear, and you're all sleeping through the night?"

Osmadiel looks to his sister, her bubbly demeanor fades just a bit, as she looks down to her feet. "Ra still has nightmares some times, but we're all doing better."

He looks to the young guard with concern. "You still have nightmares, how often?"

"Not too often," she scuffs the toe of her boot against the floor. "Just sometimes."

"Have you told Jahoel about them?"

Titus frowns lightly when she shakes her head, after a moment of silence, and he pets her curls softly, she looks up at him guiltily. "I didn't think they were that important."

"Of course, they're important." He kneels, brushing his knuckle under her chin. "I want you to go see Jahoel in the morning, alright?" She nods. "And, tell him about these nightmares, too."

"Okay." She nods lightly. "I'm sorry, Tus."

"Hey." He tilts her head up. "No harm."

Rahab smiles up at him. "You're great, Tus."

"Only as great as you are."


	97. The Hounds Of Heaven

He knew it would be sooner or later before those three were assigned to the doors, one preferred his hound form, the other two did not, they preferred their humanoid form over their hound form. So to see them in such a form was concerning.

"Tus." The Power looks up at the sound of his voice, meeting the Healers imploring gaze, and followed his gesture to the entrance. Three hounds. Sitting straight. Staring into the walls of the Infirmary, at the persons who walk passed, following their every step. "I knew they'd make their way here eventually." The Power frowns lightly, setting his book aside, and stands from his bed. "But, why are _they _in hound form?"

"They're not usually?"

"No, they prefer their other form."

He tapped his own Captain on the arm, the one may be his guard, but he would always be Nisroc's boy. The older Power looks up at the silent call for attention, away from entertaining their fledglings, and follows his gesture to the door. "Era." He stands, leaving their fledglings under the distraction of the others, and fishes under his pillow for something. Titus raises an eyebrow when he pulls a stuffed toy bunny out from under his pillow. "You carry that thing around with you?"

"It's his favorite toy." He points a finger at his younger brother when the captain of the guards smirks. "Not a word."

He raises his hands in surrender. "I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to."

Nisroc narrows his eyes at his younger brother but steps passed him, heading for the open doors, the hound in the middle watches him as he draws closer and closer. Tracking him as he stops a few paces away and kneels, sitting on his knees, he leans forward when the toy bunny is held out to him. "Era, look what I have for you." The hounds tail wags slightly, as it bends forward slightly, eyeing the toy with desire. "Come get your bunny."

The gray hound on it's left growls lowly, butting his head against his companion next to him, and he growled in return, snapping at the other hound angrily.

"Era." The hound snaps back around at his name. "If you come here, you can have your favorite bunny, and a belly rub." They all smiled as the hound stood, yapping excitedly, tail wagging behind him. "That's right, you can have both." The hound barks brightly, running forward, they laugh as he runs into the mighty Captain, jumping up on him with his front two paws. He laughs leaning backwards under the weight of the large hound, rubbing his free hand over his head, petting his ears back. "That sounds like a good deal to you?" He barks again, licks the Captain's face excitedly, and tugs his toy out of his hand. Nisroc climbs back to his feet, petting the hounds head as it niddled happily at his toy bunny. "You want to come take a nap with me, Era?" The hound huffs around his bunny and nudges his hand lightly. "Alright, you big puppy, let's go lay down and I'll rub your belly."

The elder Power squeezes his brothers shoulder as they walk passed him. "I'll take care of this puppy."

Titus watches them go from over his shoulder, as his Captain lays back against his pillow, and the hound stretches out up between his legs, resting his furry head on the Power's stomach. Era has Nisroc wrapped around his little paw.

He turns for the other two hounds, they stare at him with wide eyes, and he kneels for them. "Did someone yell at you two?" They look like a pair of kicked puppies, which is why they're in hound form, they always are after they get yelled at. "Come here, puppies."

Both hounds, identical in appearance, ran forward, tails between their legs, and nuzzled into his chest. He curls his arms around them, rubbing their furry necks softly, and turns them around to look at him. "You are good boys." The one hound looks up at him, licking his chin softly. "Yes, you're good boys." He reaches up a scratches a few fingers behind one of their ears. "Let's go lay down, I'll give you gives a good ear scratch."

They both yap happily, tugging gently on his sleeves, and he stumbles slightly as his stands. "Alright, come on."

Titus climbs onto his bed first, spreading out into a comfortable position, and pats them over encouragingly. "Come here, you two." One hound jumps onto the end of his bed, flopping down between his legs, it's massive furry head laying against his stomach. The other hound climbs up against his side and cuddles close, like a puppy does it's mate, and he scratches at their heads lightly, fingers itching behind their ears. "There you go, you good boys."


	98. Greatest Reunion Of All Time

He paced anxiously in front of the doors to the Infirmary, wiping his hands on his soft tunic, on his thighs, he fiddled with the belt around his waist, with the chain around his neck, biting his lip all the while as he paced anxiously in front of the Infirmary doors.

What if he didn't want to see him?

Their last meeting hadn't exactly been the best of occasions, they had words, both left broken hearted.

What if he wasn't welcome anymore?

He'd grown up in these walls, playing under the feet of an archangel and a gaggle of healers, getting into all sorts of mischief. He'd been a great guardian, caring, loving, playful, all the makings of a great older brother and mentor. He'd shown him everything he knew. And he'd betrayed that.

"Zaz, you'll never know if you don't go in."

He peered over his shoulder at his Captain, Semyaza smiled at him encouragingly, squeezing his shoulder tightly. "Yaza, the last time we saw each other he was locking my in a dark, hot tomb under a mountain." He looks back at the Infirmary doors, they're closed, though unlocked, anyone can open them and enter. They were closed to keep the cold of winter out. "What if I'm not welcome anymore?"

"Zaz, he still loves you."

"You don't know that though." Bright golden eyes turn to his brother. "He could hate me now."

"I don't think so. He's always been inordinately fond of you." He makes a teasing expression. "Father knows why though, you're nothing but trouble." He pushes him forward slightly. "Can we go inside now, Zaz, I'm cold."

"You go ahead, I'm gonna stay here, I can't do it." He shakes his head and backs up a step. "I can't face him."

"Yes, you are." Semyaza takes him by the collar and drags him forward. "You're going to have to face him eventually."

"Eventually doesn't mean today!"

"Azazel, I'm not above dragging you in there." He tugs him closer to the door, gripping the door handle with his free hand. "Besides, you stay out here, and you'll catch a cold, do you want the first meeting after hundreds of years to be when you're sick?"

Azazel only puts up half a struggle, if he's going to step foot in that place, it's going to be forced. Semyaza keeps hold of him, and pulls open the door, shoving him in first before stepping in himself. The healers nearest the door pause at their entrance, he himself had business to attend to with Zed, and brought his brother with him to get him off his back about the Healer.

The Captain of the Grigori waves at the apothecary of the Virtues, leaving his brother stand in the entrance of the Infirmary, trusting him to close the door behind them. Zed waves back, eyes widening slightly at the sight of the other Grigori standing in the door way, and elbowed Akriel in the side lightly, nodding in his direction when the mental specialist turned to look at him inquisitively.

"Close the door," a large dark hand slammed the door shut behind him, and he jumped at the sudden bang, at the voice that he knew so well. "We're not heating the outside." He hears the rustling of a file being flipped through. "And who might…" The voice trails off. "Azazel?"

He stiffens, flinching slightly, and looks to his feet in sudden interest. "Hey…Rapha.…..."

"Turn around and face me."

He drops his shoulders and turns, though without lifting his head, his feet are incredibly interesting at the moment. "Azazel." A gentle, warm hand cradles his cheek. "Look at me, butterfly." He chances a glance up, and once his eyes meet those bright blue eyes, he knew that he couldn't look away again. "You've been avoiding me."

"I thought you were still mad at me."

"Oh, little butterfly, I was never mad at you." He strokes his cheek with his thumb. "I was never angry. Father was, though, He was furious. But I was never upset with you."

"You weren't?"

"No, I wasn't." He curls his fingers around the back of his neck and tugs him in. "Give me a hug, little butterfly, I've missed you so very much."

Azazel smiles, he can't help but smile, as he folds himself around the Healer, clutching at his tunic for all he's worth, curling himself around the archangel as best as he can. He's missed this, being in his embrace, feeling the light static that comes from his touch, missed the hum of electricity running under his skin, the warmth of his grace, the scent of the ozone and pine trees. He missed his Healer, his best friend, his guardian, everything. "I missed you Healer."

"I can only hope that you're not mad at me." The Grigori shakes his head, nuzzling against the Archangel's chest, curling his fingers tightly in the Healer's tunic. "For what I was forced to do to you."

"I'm not mad. I can't be. It was my punishment for what I had done."

"A crime that did not befit the punishment." He strokes a hand down the back of his head. "What was forced upon you was barbaric. Even for us."

He rubs his cheek against the Archangel's chest. "Can I stay with you?"

"I still have work to do."

Azazel doesn't want to let go. He doesn't ever want to let go. "Can I help you, then?"

"Your definition of help, and mine, are two completely different things." Raphael scratches the back of his neck gently. "But I'll tell you what, I happen to have a warm bed and a nice fire going back in my room at the Villa, you're more then welcome to come back with me for the night."

"With warm, fluffy blankets?"

"The warmest and the fluffiest." He pets his hair gently. "Does that sound nice?"

He nods, tucking himself into the Archangel's chest, taking a deep breath to regain himself. "That sounds great." Azazel looks up at his Archangel with wide eyes. "And, and, you'll read to me like you always did?"

"I'll even let you pick the story."

"Oh, lightning bug, I missed you." He burrows back into the Healer's chest. "I missed you so much."


	99. Akriel's Making Progress

His day off consisted of one simple mission, he was bound and determined to get Eia to talk to him, even if it was harsh sarcasm, he wanted her to talk to him again. He missed the little gardener with all his heart, he missed talking to her, missed her making him flower crowns, bringing him fresh flowers to smell and see, he missed her smile and her laughter.

He missed little Eia.

So, he made a quick pit stop to his room, picked up his offering, and made his way back down to the Infirmary floor. He ignored his brothers teasing at the sight of his gift, he was no creator and he was no gardener, he'd tried his hardest and he hoped she saw that when he gave it to her.

Seeing a Virtue carrying such a thing down the Axis gained him strange looks, but he ignored him, it was all a part of his mission.

Joshua took one look at his gift and laughed.

"That's hideous, big brother." The Gardener giggled softly, lifting one of the bent flowers with a gentle finger, he smiled at it. "She's going to love it." He let go of the fauna to look him over. "I don't much care if you try and make up for what you did to her, but let me tell you," he pokes him in the chest harshly. "You break her heart again, and I'll tear yours out."

Akriel blinked at the Gardener, but took his threat to heart, it was well deserved after what they had done to her. He would always regret letting her down in such a horrid manner, his fear of his commanders reaction to rebellion had led him into doing something he ordinarily wouldn't have done, but he had done it, and he had much to make up for, much to gain forgiveness for, and earn it he would. If it was the last thing he did.

"Where might I find her?"

He points behind the Virtue. "She was making a new flower patch just beyond those trees."

The mental specialist nods, thanking him softly, and turns in the aforementioned direction he was directed in. Walking through the trees, over growing plants, he comes upon the clearing quick enough, smiling at the sight of her. He remembers when she was just a small, little thing. Running through the trees and the soft short grass, jumping over upturned trunks, chasing colorful butterflies around, playing with the animals that inhabited the Garden. They'd play all sorts of games on his days off, playing hide and seek, tag, a game of cat and mouse, any sort of game one could think of. How she'd giggle and laugh, running away from him and his wiggling fingers, she'd squeal with excitement as he caught her up, tossing her above his head. How she'd cuddle up with him when he'd take her down for a nap, all fledglings needed naps, lest they get themselves a cranky fledgling, as he told her stories of times passed and make belief. How she'd loved showing him her creations, it had been him who patched up her little fingers when she'd first created roses, it hadn't been long until Joshua had forbade her from touching them, at least until she was older.

They had been so close, and he ruined it, in one cowardice act.

She's bent over a patch of churned dirt, working her magic, the magic of the Garden, and he watched as flowers sprouted and bloomed under her touch, her grace was a soft green, the color of the fauna she grew up around, the perfect color for the Garden. Her hands were dirty, covered in dirt, as they always were when she was working.

He called out, as to not startle her. "Eia?"

The little gardener froze, her shoulders stiffening, and her piercing green eyes peered over her shoulder at him. He tried for a kind smile, he hoped his nerves weren't too obvious, he didn't want to come off as anything other then how he was.

She takes him in for all he's worth, not returning his smile, not completely. He takes the twitch of her lips as a milestone of progress.

"I, uh, made you a welcome home gift." He holds his flower pot out to her, she raises an eyebrow, her specialty is flowers. Most of the flowers in the Garden are her creation, she makes a new flower every day, and they're always breath-taking. "I hope you like it."

She comes to stand before him, and he stiffens, not wanting to make the wrong move to send her away again. She lifts one of the drooping flowers with a gentle finger, her eyebrow raising slightly, as she feels the silkiness of the petals, leaning in to sniff the fragrance. Though the appearance is to be desired, the smell is heavenly, she smiles at it as she pulls away.

And, then she laughs. "This is the _ugliest _thing I've ever seen!"

He smiles at the sound of her laughter. "Well, I apologize the sight isn't really that appealing, creating greenery isn't necessarily my forte."

She laughs again, lifting the flower up again. "It's so disproportioned! The pistil is too big for the stem, that's why it droops." She tugs it from his hands and hugs it closer to her chest. "I _love _it!" Eiael looks up at him from over her new flower. "Why'd you bring me a flower?"

"Because," he looks down to his hands, adjusting his tunic nervously, he doesn't want to make this worse. "I know how much you love flowers." Akriel looks back up at her. "And…Well…I didn't know how to approach you."

"Why?" She narrows her eyes at him. "Scared to face your own mistakes?"

"Eia—" She glares at him so he amends. "Eiael. The mistake that I made was one that will haunt me for as long as I live and breathe. I was so fearful of what might become of me that I let that overshadow my adoration for you."

"You just stood there. You stood there and watched. You didn't say anything, not like the rest, you just stood there and watched him banish me from his flock." She hugs the pot closer to herself. "I thought I meant more to you then that."

"You mean the world to me E—"

"Then why didn't you stand up for me!" The little gardener shoves the flower pot back at him and he fumbles with it for a moment, this was not going the way he had envisioned it. "You just _stood _there!" The fresh flowers she had just planted began to wilt at her feet. "If you cared as much as you said you did, then tell me, why didn't you try and talk to him! Why did you let me fall through the barrier! Why did you _stand up for me_!"

"I was a coward in that moment, Eiael, a coward who put my own fears above the one I promised to protect, and I let you down."

"I hadn't even done anything _wrong_!" She throws her hands above her head. "I didn't _do _anything!" She throws her hand out, pointing into the air around them, her eyes blazing with either anger or tears, or, perhaps both. "I was _punished _for learning the same thing that _she's _learning!" A hand presses to her chest. "If _anything, _I should have been able to learn it, I take _care _of the _plants _for Father's sake! Shouldn't I know their uses! What can be done with them!"

His thoughts went to Araton for a moment, an innocent in all of this, as innocent as Eiael was, learning the same craft that she was learning, one of them allowed, and the other punished drastically. Araton was innocent of the resentment held for her, unknowingly, the evidence of a mistake too large to compensate for. Eiael refused to give either her or Zed the basket of ingredients that could only grow in the Garden, they wouldn't thrive in their garden at the Infirmary, she'd drop the basket at their feet and make her leave. Not a word uttered. There was nothing to say.

She was right, she was punished for an imaginary wrong doing.

The resentment was justified.

"Eia…Eiael…." He slowly kneels, setting his put aside, and sits on his knees before her. The little gardener crosses her arms tightly and glares down at him. "I can't even begin to atone for the magnitude of my wrongdoings. I was a coward the day you were pushed over the edge, through the barrier, a coward who let you go when I shouldn't have. I shouldn't have just stood by and let those things happen, I am as guilty as the rest of them are, and there are no words to express how much sorrow I have for what I did to you."

She stares down at him, on his knees pleading for her forgiveness, acknowledging his wrongdoing. He hadn't said she was wrong, not like the rest of them had, he'd just stood there and let it happen, he was just as bad as the rest of them were.

"Why wasn't I good enough for you?"

"What?"

"I said, why wasn't I good enough?" She swallows deeply. "When Aba fell, all of her brothers stood up for her, why was I not good enough for mine to do the same thing?"

"Eia, it wasn't about you, at that moment, all we could think about was ourselves." He looks down for a moment before looking back up to meet her gaze. "In that moment, we forfeited you for our own safety, we agreed for our own wellbeing." He shakes his head. "There was nothing wrong about you. It wasn't that we didn't care. We were too afraid. If I could turn back time, if I could go back, I'd jump after you. I'd fall with you. I wouldn't be such a _coward_."

She stares at him for a moment, a beat of silence, and slowly uncrosses her arms as she lowers herself to sit on her knees with him. "You'd jump for me?" She sounds confused, perhaps a bit lost. "You'd give up everything for me?"

"In a heartbeat, Eia, without hesitation."

"You mean it?" She looks up at him with wide eyes, searching his face, searching for deception. There was none to be found. "You swear?"

"On my grace." He presses a hand to his heart. "I'd drain it dry before I let you go again."

Eiael stares at him for a moment, and slowly lifts herself, opening her arms. He stiffens when her slim arms curl around his neck, pressing herself close to him, burying herself into the side of this neck. Akriel smiles, slowly curling his own arms around her petit form, pressing her close. He buries his face into her shoulder, inhaling the scent of lavender and rose, curling his fingers around the back of her head. "I missed you, my little Eia." He strokes his hand down the back of her head. "When they brought you in there, so quiet and limp, I was so worried."

"I was okay."

"But I didn't know that." He pulls her back only just, cradling her face in his hands, she looks up at him with big green eyes. "All I know was that my little baby sister was lying unconscious on a bed and there was nothing I could do to help her."

She reaches up to cradle his face lightly in her own, little hands. "But, I'm okay now."

The Virtue smiles at her, leaning forward to press their foreheads together, and just a tad more to kiss her nose. She smiles up at him, the flowers beside them straighten and bloom once more. "Is there anyone who can still make you laugh quite like I can?"

She giggles up at him, peering into his silver eyes, and shakes her head slowly. He smiles at her, kissing her nose again, and slowly turns to the left, lowering himself towards her neck. She giggles brightly, scrunching up her shoulder, and he chuckles lightly. "Open up, you little clam." She giggles and shakes her head, yelping when he scratches a finger on the other side of her neck, her reaction is to scrunch up her other shoulder, leaving the side he wants completely free.

The specialist burrows into her neck softly, pressing tiny kisses into the smooth skin, and she shrieks, scrunching her shoulder up as much as she can. "Ak! Get out! Get out!"

"I can't." He nuzzles into her soft neck. "You've trapped me in."

"Hehehehehe! Ak!" The little gardener clutches at the front of his tunic, fingers curled in tightly, as she pushes at him, trying to push him away. He lets go of her face, curling his arms around her, he pulls her in close, snuggly against him. "Ak! Stohoohop!"

"I've missed these precious giggles."

"Ak!"

"I'll tell you what," he pauses for a moment. "I'll stop, but only if you promise to make me a crown of flowers."

"Deal! Deal!"

Akriel chuckles, pulling away, she giggles and falls against his chest, as he falls back into a sitting position. She breaths in a giggle and curls into his chest, nuzzling her cheek in. "I missed you too, Ak."


	100. Dangers Of Distractions

"Azazel, I adore you, you know I do," the Archangel pushes the Grigori back lightly. "But I'm busy."

"I'm not doing anything!" The Grigori holds his hands up in surrender, leaning back against his hands, kicking his legs lightly back and forth. "I'm just sitting here all well mannered and not being a bother."

He narrows his eyes at the younger angel. "You're being a nuisance." The Healer points a finger at him sternly. "If you interrupt my work again, I am going to have to force you to leave."

"But, but, but," he pouts his lip out slightly, if only because he knows it melts the Archangel's heart, Raphael wags his finger at him. "Now, don't give me that look, I gave you fair warning."

"You'd kick me out after everything."

"Don't you think to guilt me into letting up, you know the rules, we've been together since Semyaza dragged you in here last week."

"I'll stuff snow into your pillowcase."

"I dare you to." The Archangel turns back to the file he's working on. "See what it gets you."

"You're a task master."

"Someone has to keep you in line." He reaches out with his free hand and squeezes at his knee lightly, it makes him yelp and kick, the Archangel chuckles lightly. "It's my burden, unfortunately."

Azazel grumbles under his breath, turning to peer around the room, kicking his feet once more. They fall into companionable silence together, the scratching of the quill loudest over the dull rumble that is the mixture of voices in the Infirmary, he whistles softly to himself, waiting for his moment, he tilts his head up to look at the beams above them, and kicks at the chair the Archangel sits on.

The quill scratches across the page, leaving a dark line across the words that's been sprawled across the paper, and he smirks to himself when the Archangel inhales deeply. "Okay." He sets his quill down firmly. "That's it."

He yelps when fingers curl around his ankle and lifts his foot up, turning him on the top of the desk towards the Archangel, and the fingers of his free hand dig into the meat of his thigh. He, admittedly, shrieks very loudly. Tugging at his captured ankle desperately, he braces his other boot against the edge of the chair, and pushes as much as he can. "Raph! Raph! I'm sorry!"

"Oh, no you aren't. Not yet." He squeals when he lifts his leg up and spiders his fingers over the underside of his thigh. "It appears you've forgotten what happens when you _disrupt _my work." The Archangel stands from his chair, tugging the Grigori around, he leans in between his legs as he releases his grip on his ankle, and digs his fingers into his sides instead, spidering them up and down in a tickly dance. Azazel shrieks, squirming from side to side over the desk top, shoving desperately against the Archangel's arms. "Let me _reteach_ you this lesson."

"Raahahahahaaphaaahah!"

"I'm clearly not teaching this lesson properly if you're still able to speak."

He switches up, digging the fingers of his right hand into his upper left ribs, and spidering the fingers of his left around his belly. The Grigori shrieks brightly, throwing his head back in laughter, he lifts his legs, bracing his heels against the side of the desk. With this opening, the Archangel reaches back, spidering his fingers up and down his under thighs, until he squeals and throws his legs back down.

"Lihihiiihi! Lihihihiihight! LIGHTNINGBUG!"

"Let's make this a memorable lesson, shall we?"

Raphael smiles down at him, looming over him from the side of the desk, between his legs, and presses a kiss to his forehead as he reaches behind him.

The moment his fingers dig into his shoulders, he screams, Azazel _screams_. His wriggling and squirming reaches new levels of desperation. He shoves frantically at his archangel's chest, trying to lean away from the fingers, but they follow, no matter where he goes.

"Have we learned our lesson, yet?"

He nods, oh, how he nods.

The Archangel gives one last dig into his shoulders and pulls back, kissing his nose as he does, and plops back down on in his chair. Azazel huffs, giggling breathlessly, and curls his arms around his belly. The Healer chuckles, petting his hair back lightly, scratching gently at his scalp. "Are you okay?"

"That…That was brutal."

"Ah, but I'm sure you'll think twice about interrupting me."

He nods tiredly, smacking his lips quietly, his Archangel rubs his fingers over his forehead. "Why don't you go curl up in front of the fire and take a nap," he scratches his head lightly. Azazel shakes his head, reaching up to take the Archangel's hand, and hug it to his chest. "I don't want to leave you."

"There's a desk over there beside one of the beds, let's move over there, I can work and you can nap."

"You're the best, Archangel."

"And don't you forget it."


	101. A Time For Second Chances

"Nis, can I have a word with you?" The Captain looks up from the book he was reading, he should be working on his paperwork, but he wasn't one to bow to such whims if he could avoid it. Titus smiles at him from his place in the doorway to his older brother's office, nodding to him in greeting, Nisroc returns his smile and waves in a gesture of granted entrance, he pushes away from the doorframe and enters, crossing to sit in one of the chairs across from the older Power, at his desk. Nisroc leans forward on his arms, against his desk, waiting for him to speak his piece.

Titus rubs at his shoulder lightly. "I want to take him."

"Pardon?"

"Sorath," Titus meets his gaze, firm on his conviction, and nods to assure them both. "I want to take him."

"He doesn't have the temperament to be a Power, Tus, and I'm not making him anymore exceptions." Nisroc shakes his head lightly. "Not even I could break him of it, or at least, get him to keep it under control."

"No, you misunderstand." The Captain of the guards shakes his head. "I agree, he clearly does not have what it takes to be one of us, I want to make him one of my guards. He would do well as a Prison guard. His skill with a sword is something we should not pass up on, and the Prisons need a guard like him, rough around the edges, not frightened of anything. His attitude could do with some work, I agree, but I think he could do well."

"I don't know, Tus." He looks down to his folded hands. "I just don't know."

"I can handle him, Nis." Titus is quick to assure, crossing his arms about his chest, he nods again in assurance. "I can handle him."

Nisroc stares at him for a moment, as if struggling through an internal battle, and heaves a deep sigh as he rubs the bridge of his nose. "Alright, fine," he could never truly deny his younger brothers and he was never one to truly give up on someone, if anyone could do something, something he himself couldn't accomplish, it would be Titus. "I give you my permission, he's yours, I'll come by in a week to see the progress made and make a final determination at that time."

The younger Power smiles, nodding, and stands from the chair. "Thank you, Nis, I know I can do him some good. He can do good. Thank you for giving him the opportunity."

"Only for you Tus, only for you, he's yours for the taking."

…

Sorath looks up at the opening of his door, the sudden appearance of one of the Powers, most probably here to tell him that his case had been decided and to leave the premises immediately. They were all a bunch of softies, those brats needed showing of their place, they were warriors, not care givers.

"On your feet." The Power's tone is firm, harsh even, he knows this Power, he's the soft spoken one, that tone coming from him was something that made his head turn. "I said, on your feet." He yelps lightly when the tall Power takes hold of his tunic and yanks him up. "Follow me." He spins on his heel, gesturing for him to follow from over his shoulder, and leads him out of his soon to be returned room and down the hall towards the Lounge, the others watch them pass as they cross the threshold, and down the stairs that leads to the world below. Trainees and warriors watched them as they cross the training field, to the other side, and through the stone entrance to the Axis below. The Power leads him up the Axis, through the moving crowd, and up the stone path that leads to the Garden.

Joshua looks up at them at their entrance, trimming a hedge carefully, minding the roses to the side. He spares him a glance, returning his attention to the Power, he doesn't want to fall out of line with him, or run into him should he come to a sudden stop. The Power smiles at the Gardener, offering a kind wave of his hand, and the Gardener returns the gesture in kind before returning to his work at hand.

He follows the Power through the trees, to a clearing just beyond, where the trees circle around them. The grass is short and vibrant, dandelions litter around them in patches, and an over turned tree trunk is the center of their clearing.

Sorath jumps back at the sudden halt in the Power's lead, as he turns around to face him, and crosses his arms firmly. "This is what you're going to do, listen closely, I'm not going to repeat myself." He points at the tree line. "You are going to go find a long, thin, switch. You're going to clear it off, and return here in two minutes, go." He stares at the Power. "_Go."_

The rejected elect turns, running off for the tree line, in search for the item that was requested. Mentally he keeps track of the time, not wanting to find out what happens if it runs out, none of them had taken this approach before, it had always just been extra training, intense, harsh training.

He finds the long, thin branch and snaps it off the tree, turning to run back to the waiting Power, his mind trying to weed out what Titus, of all the Powers, was going to do.

Titus takes the branch that he holds out, bending it for a test in flexibility, and nods firmly. "This'll work. Now, clean it up." He passes it back to him.

Sorath nods, using the small knife he carries in his boot to strip away the little twigs that stick off of it, peeling it of it's layer of bark, until it's a smooth, thin, long switch in his hand.

He passes it back to the Power, and Titus takes it, running his fingers over the length of it. "Good. Now," he points down at his trousers. "You're going to bare yourself, down to the skin underneath," then he gestures to the overturned tree trunk. "And bend yourself over that trunk."

"What?"

_"Now."_

Sorath nods, turning quickly, hands flying down to his waist line for the belt buckle, as he crosses the distance to the overturned tree trunk to the side of them. This is such a degrading thing, bending him over a tree trunk like he's some sort of naughty fledgling, he doesn't dare argue, not when the Power has the prepared switch in hand, smacking it lightly against his hand as he waits for him to get into the commanded position.

So, he keeps his grumbles to himself, and lowers himself over the trunk into the desired position.

"Alright, we'll do this," Titus trails off for a moment, as if thinking over the number of swats, and he shrugs slightly. "Well, until it seems to truly _sink _in."

Without reserving any of his strength, he reels his arm back, and throws it out again

…

Sorath rubs pitifully at his bottom, before rubbing at his nose with his sleeve, sitting tenderly in the chair behind the guard captain's desk. They were out there for a decent amount of time, and it didn't stop until something broke, the tears flew, the pleads sung, and he was reduced to something akin a fledgling, sobbing over that overturned tree trunk.

The Power only stopped then, as he sobbed and pleaded for him to stop, and gave him only enough time to pull his trousers up and redo his belt, before he was tugged forward, Titus shoving him forward as they took their leave from the Garden.

Something caught his eye, something behind the Power, on the shelf against the wall. It's colorful and oddly shaped. He's never seen something like it before.

"Sorath, look at me." His eyes move from the object to the Power, Titus smiles at him, a far cry from the harsh presence earlier that day. "I took you there because of my intentions, you aren't cut out to be a Power, I'm sorry, that's already been decided." He looks down slightly, the anger fades into something akin to shame, the burning in his rear end staves off the anger for the moment, he's not ready to face such an end again any time soon. "But, I'm not letting you get away that easily, you've got talent, talent that shouldn't go to waste, I need a new guard for the Prison and I think you'd do just fine."

"You're….You're offering me a position?"

"I am," Titus nods. Leaning forward on his arms, over the edge of his desk, he eyes him carefully. "Granted, there's something ground rules, of course. Such as, attacking prisoners and such is untolerated. Your attitude, on that note, is unacceptable as well. You are not above any one in station." He taps a finger over the top of his desk. "And, your anger, you're going to have to learn some control. If not, what we just went through, that's what'll happen." Sorath grimaces, the burn in his bottom seeming to intensify, shaking his head at the thought of it.

His eyes stray back to the object behind the Power.

"Sorath," Titus calls his name, and his eyes jump back down to him. "What do you say?"

"I'd like that."

His eyes stray back.

"Sorath, what has got your attention?" The Power looks over his shoulder, following his line of sight, and comes to look at the object in question. A toy robot. He's had it since he was a fledgling, it had been a gift from Michael, he used to bring back all sorts of earthen toys from his missions for the fledglings to have. The toy robot had been given to him. "Is this what's got you so captivated?"

He turns in his chair, reaching over his shoulder, curling the fingers of his left hand around the small robot figure. He turns back around, smiling at the fond memories that the toy brings, and peers back up at the newly assigned guard, he's on probation, this is a trial period. Sorath seems to captivated by it, he can't stop staring at it, and he raises an eyebrow as a smile slowly crosses his features.

The Power holds it out for the younger male. "Here."

Sorath stares at the toy, being held out in offering, held out to him with no stipulation behind it. He reaches forward, slowly and cautiously, curling his fingers lightly around the object. It's smooth to the touch, cool against his skin, and he pulls it back towards him. Titus leans back in his chair, watching him closely, this is a part of the temperamental angel they haven't seen before.

He touches one of the arms, smiling slightly when it turns under his fingers, and does the same to one of it's legs. "What is it?"

"It's a toy." The Power scratches at his cheek lightly. "Most guardians bring them back when they go to earth, didn't you have any?"

He shakes his head, looking down at the toy in wonder, slowly moving its arms, setting it on his leg and miming it to walk. Titus smiles at him, in this moment, when his anger's faded and his free from such resentment, he's like a fledgling. A childlike side come out of him, as he sits there, watching the newly assigned guard play with the toy robot, smiling lightly when the angel leans forward and walks the robot across the front of his desk.

It's like he's a small fledgling, getting a new toy, playing with it quietly.

Everything else has faded away.

"What _was _your fledglinghood like, Sorath?"

Sorath is captivated by the toy, walking it across the front of the Power's desk, up his leg, bending its arms back and forth. "Harsh. I grew up with a seasoned Warrior. He thought such things were frivolous. I've never had a toy before."

He frowns lightly, there's many implications that could be had from such a statement, so many different meanings a '_harsh' _fledglinghood could have. It certainly explains the behavior, the anger, the younger angel wasn't shown the proper way to express anything, especially when he was upset over something. Watching him now, it's like that little fledgling who'd grown under a strict, _'harsh' _warrior, is coming out to be seen again. Finally playing with a toy, much too late in the game, but better late than never, experiencing something enjoyable, having _fun. _He smiles lightly when the younger male waves the robot toy around gently, as though making it fly through the air, smiling to himself as he's taken into his own little world.

"This can be your first then." Sorath looks up at him with wide eyes, clutching the robot to his front, as though he had been on the verge of passing it back. "You can have the toy."

"I can….I can have it." The young angel looks down at the toy robot he holds so carefully. "I can have the toy."

He nods. "You can, consider it a gift, it's all yours."

The poor angel, the way he looks at him at the implication of it being a gift, the expression gives the impression that he's never received a gift before.

He's just like a fledgling.

"I…." Sorath looks up from the toy in his arms. "Thank you."

"You're most welcome." Titus smiles at him warmly. "I'll introduce you to your partner tomorrow morning, he'd be fast asleep at this time anyway, and I'll show you where your room will be." He rubs at his chin thoughtfully. "We're going to work on that temper, you and me, together. I'll make you a deal, for every week that goes by that you keep it in check, I'll get you a new toy." Sorath's eyes widen at the implication of getting more toys. "And for this week in particular, seeing as this is you probation, and your last chance, for everyday you behave yourself, you'll get a new toy." He raises a finger at him. "But, for every misstep, I take the toys away for a day. Does that sound like a fair deal?"

"I..I can have more toys?"

The Power nods. "So long as you're behaved, for an entire week, you'll get a new toy. I'll do you one better, you show me the progress you can make in this week, and at the end, I'll take you to earth. To one of their toy stores and you can pick out one toy of your choosing."

"I…I can get my very _own _toy?"

He nods again, holding up a finger. "If you behave."

Sorath looks down at the robot in his hands, hugging it close to his chest, looking much like a fledgling, frightened that their toy is about to be taken away from them. "I'd like that."

"Good, now, let's show you to your room." Titus stands from his chair, gesturing for the new guard to follow him, smiling slightly as the younger angel stands, hugging his new toy to his chest tightly, following his new captain from his office, down the hall towards the barracks, they turn at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the Pavilion above, down the hall to the right.

The warriors stay on the left and the guards stay on the right.

Two doors down, and the Power opens the door, it's a small room with a good sized bed and a small bedside table, a desk under the window, shelves built into wall on the side, a small fireplace built into the far wall, and a wardrobe. "This is your room." He gestures to the wardrobe. "Blankets and pillows are on the top shelf." Then to the shelves beside the window. "You can set your new toy on the shelf." He pats his back softly. "Its late, and we wake up early, make up your bed and get some rest."

…

_Day One: _

"Alright, you're going to be a Prison guard, meaning its your duty to ensure your assigned prisoner is kept safe from harm." Titus led him down the Axis towards the foreboding building, explaining to him his position, and he paid apt attention, the thought of getting a new toy still fresh on his mind, he vowed to be on his best behavior. "And trust me, there are plenty who would like to see this particular prisoner harm. The Prison is kept pretty secure, there's two guards posted at the entrance, they're very difficult to get passed." He smiles at the guard securing the entrance, Aeshma smiles back, gaze turning to the new one behind her captain. Titus takes that as his given opportunity to introduce their new brother. "Esh, this is Sorath, he's going to be the new Prison guard."

"He's the one replacing Yehudiah?" She eyed the new guard critically, they'd all heard about the trouble at the Pavilion, Titus had been in a foul mood for a good couple of days following the incident. Sorath averted his eyes, he knew that those under the Powers command would know of his outbursts, he but his lip harshly, as to keep his mouth closed, he knew if he opened it he would snap at her for looking at him like that, and he didn't want to lose his chance at getting a new toy. "Are you sure?"

Titus nods at her, raising an eyebrow at the treatment, sure, Sorath didn't have the best of starts, but he wasn't a bad angel.

He was good at reading people. Sorath's anger was the only emotion he truly knew, it carried over from the resentment he had for his guardian while he grew up and flourished into something that controlled him. But there was another side to him, that childlike side, that showed itself when he'd been given the toy robot the night before. He was still so very much like that fledgling he'd once been, hopeful for affection, that he can act like the fledgling he is and behave as such. He was a fledgling in a grown body, when the moment allowed, and it was endearing to watch him play with his toy.

"He'll do fine." The Power pats the new guard on the shoulder. "We've come to an agreement."

She eyes the other angel wearily, but shrugs in the end, not her place to question it. Too much. "Well, if your sure." She smiles at him. "Welcome to the family, then."

Titus smiles at her, as she steps aside to allow them entrance, he steps forward and pulls the thick metal door open, gesturing for Sorath to enter first, and he followed behind, closing the door behind him once he'd entered. Temeluch smiled at them both, he wasn't one to judge, if Titus thought he make it as a guard, then he was welcome among them, in his opinion anyway.

He's led down the corridor to another door. "Your partner is Sabaoth. He's in charge of you." He spares him a glance as he opens another door for them. "And, if you're wondering, he reports back to me. Remember our deal. He's a nice angel, calm, laid back. He'd be a good fit for you." Three angels sit together, two at one cell, and one across from them at the other. Titus gestures to the two on the one side. "They're Rahab and Osmadiel, they guard Zachariah." He gestures to the one on the other side. "This is Sabaoth, like I said, he's your partner."

The one he gestures to holds a hand out to him. "Hello." Sorath leans forward, to shake his hand, and he gets a smile in a kind greeting. "You can call me 'Saba' if you want, everyone else does." Sabaoth knows him of course, everyone heard of the incident at the Pavilion, but he wasn't one to hold opinions about a person until he met them, got to know them, and Titus thought he could make it as a guard, if he thought he could do the job, then he'd let him give it a try before he made any passing of judgement. "What do I call you?"

"My names Sorath."

"Nice to meet you, Sorath." He retracts his hand and leans back against the corner of the stone wall. "Can I call you 'Sora'?" The new guard nods lightly and Titus smiles at their interaction, he knew pairing them together would be a good idea.

"Cool, well, welcome Sora," he gestures to the cell beside him. "We guard Metatron."

Sorath leans forward to peer into the cell, the occupant glares at him hotly, and he leans back again.

Titus turns to him, touching his arm lightly, is a gentle touch. "Metatron is a…_Trying…._one to watch over. It'll show us just how well you can keep hold of that temper. You're stationed here from sunrise to sunset, breaks and such in between at Saba's call for timing. The weekends are off days for you to as you please. You, in particular, are to be back in your room by eight-thirty. In bed at ten. Do you understand?"

The younger angel nods silently, mind turning at the possibility of what his new toy might be, he knows Titus is good on his word. The Power smiles. "Good. Remember, good behavior gets you new toys, bad behavior gets toys taken away." He flushes slightly, the others hearing about his toys, and he spares them a look quickly, they smile up at him, not speaking a word on the matter. Titus smiles at him, turning to peer at his partner. "Saba, I want a report at the end of every day this week, alright?"

"Yessir."

He got two new toy cars that evening.

…

_Day two:_

He looks up at the knock on his office door, calling out a grant of entrance, putting the papers aside for the moment he was needed. "Come in."

Sabaoth pokes his head in, opening the door for him and Sorath to enter, closing it with a soft click behind him, they both take a seat in the two chairs in front of his desk. Titus folds his hands before him over top his desk, giving them both a smile in greeting, and they returned the smile, one more hesitantly then the other, but the smile is returned none the less.

They're still working on it.

He turns to his elder guard. "Report."

Sabaoth looks to his brother and partner quickly. "It was a good day." Sorath looks down to his lap and he raises an eyebrow at the action. "We almost had an incident. In his defense though, Metatron's been picking on him, in my opinion, he held himself rather well."

"I see," he turns to the younger guard. "Sorath, did you harm him?"

Quickly, not wanting his toys to be taken away, he shook his head.

Sabaoth enlightened him. "I talked him down. We talked about his robot and cars for most of the day, and what his new toy might possibly be, Metatron gave up when he realized he wasn't going to get a rise from him."

Titus smiles, turning to the younger guard, Sorath still stares down at his lap. "Sora, look at me, please." He hesitantly looks up, biting his lip nervously, he hadn't acted on his anger, but he had almost let it get the best of him. "I'm proud of you, Sora." He looks up even more at the praise. "You didn't let your anger control you, no matter how hard I'm sure it was to abate, I'm very proud. You did a great job." A smile slowly crawls over his features at the kind praise for controlling his temper. "And, of course, that deserves a reward." He sits forward in excited anticipation as the Power leans to the side, opening a drawer in his desk, and pulls something out. Sorath's smile widens as he passes one toy to his other hand, an action figure all in red, and pulls the other one up with his right, another action figure in a blue parka.

Sabaoth smiles with his captain when the Power holds the two new toys out to him, across his desk, and Sorath takes them quickly, thanking him softly, and looks down at them happily. He hugs them close to his chest and looks up to his new captain with a smile. "Thank you."

"You deserved them, Sora, no thanks is necessary. But you're most certainly welcome." Titus nods at Sabaoth in thanks for his report, and talking Sorath down and distracting him, the elder guard nods in return. "Sir, Tus, with your permission, I'd like to give Sora some of my old toys as well."

The younger guard turns to look at him, away from his new toys, with wide hopeful eyes. "More toys!"

Sabaoth smiles at him. "Yes, little brother, more toys. You've been doing so well. I'm proud of you, as well." He turns back to his captain. "With your permission, of course."

The Power smiles at him, spares the younger man a glance, and nods at the elder. "Granted."

He gets two more cars, two boats, and an airplane from his new older brother.

…

_Day three:_

"You can have these back in one days' time."

"No, Tus, no!"

The Power had been collecting his toys in a small burlap bag, a punishment for letting his anger get the best of him and breaking Metatron's nose, it was no real sad occurrence, but the punishment must stand.

Sorath hugs two of his beloved toys to his chest, shaking his head frantically at the Power, standing direct to him, hand held out expectantly. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Hand them over."

"No, Tus, please!"

He flexes his fingers gently. "Give me the toy cars, Sora."

"Tuuus!" The guard whines, stepping away from him, curling around his two saved toys. "Not all of them! Please, Tus! Please!"

Titus sighs, eyeing him carefully, and nods in surrender. "You can keep the two cars, but everything else comes with me. For one day."

"But, Tus!"

"I can take the two cars."

"No!" He shakes his head, turning away from him, hugging his toys to his chest. "No!"

"Alright, one day," The Power seems to think quickly. "Get yourself ready for bed. It's early to bed with you tonight."

"I can keep my cars."

Titus nods. "You can keep your cars." He points to the bed. "No playtime tonight. You're going to get into your night clothes and go to bed."

"No…No playtime?"

"None. I will be back in two minutes to check on you, and you had better be in bed, or I'm taking the cars too."

"No!" He shakes his head frantically. "I'll be in bed! I swear!"

"Then you better get going."

He turns then, leaving him in his room, to take the toys up to his own room for safe keeping. Sorath sniffled, looking down at his two cars, then to his empty shelf. He set his cars down on the shelf, trusting in Titus when he said he could keep his two cars, and that he meant it when he said he would take them if he wasn't in bed by the time he returned.

Part of him was angry that he was being treated like a fledgling, but the fear that his toy cars would be taken too out weighed his anger, and he quickly tugged at the belt around his waist, undoing it with haste, and tugged his trousers off, his tunic over his head, and quickly slid into his night close, then under his blankets, just as the Power turned the edge of the doorway back into his room.

Titus smiles at him as he crosses to his bed, sitting lightly on the edge. "Good boy." He strokes a finger down his nose, tapping the tip lightly. "Don't look so down, I knew you'd have a moment eventually, you'll get your toys back tomorrow morning."

"You promise?"

"I do."

…

_Day four:_

"Hold still, Sora, I'm just about done." He snipped at the sides of his hair, keeping the stands the size he liked them, but cutting away the dead ends. Smiling over his head as he watched him play with his toy plane, making small sounds under his breath as he swung it around gently, as though he were making it fly around before them himself. "You like your airplane, little angel?"

He pauses when he feels the hair under his hands shift, as the young guard turned to look up at him, smiling brightly, eyes gleaming, not a speck of anger to be found. "I love my airplane, Tus!"

There's that little fledgling.

"I'm glad," he pokes his nose lightly, gently guiding his head back again, tilting it forward as he comes to work on the hair at the back of his head. "Which toys your favorite?"

"The robot!" He smiles again at the sight of no hesitation. "I love the robot very much!"

"Why's that your favorite?" He brushes a few fingers down the back of his neck as he pulls the strands out to test the length and its evenness. He raises an eyebrow at the back of the young guards head when his shoulders shake lightly. Sorath turns his head slightly. "You gave it to me."

He chuckles lightly, tilting his head slightly when his shoulders shake again, his knuckles brushing against the right side of his neck. "I've given you a number of toys this week. What makes that one so special?"

"It's the first one."

Setting the scissors aside, he runs his fingers through his hair. "Well, you're a very good little angel, you deserve every toy you have." Titus brushes his fingers through the soft locks, gathering his shoulder length hair into one hand, reaching to a hair tie on the table in front of them, curling the shoulder length hair into a bun, he tied it in place. Smiling to himself, he tilts his head, reaching out with one finger to scratch at the side of his neck. Sorath bits his lip, scrunching his shoulder up as high as he could manage it, and his shoulders shake lightly with silent giggles. "Oh, little Sora, is your bitty little neck ticklish?"

"No?"

"Oh, really?" He adjusts his position, curling the fingers of his right hand around the young guards forehead, pulling his head back to rest against his stomach behind him, reaching around him with his left hand to wiggle fingers against the underside of his chin, down to his collar bones, and then back up again. "Are you sure?"

Sorath pressed against his hand, trying to bend his head forward, his shoulders rising as high as he could raise them, and despite his biting his upper lip, a stream of light giggles started escaping him in a steady row. High pitched giggles, like those of a young fledgling, he shook his head the best that he could in an attempt to dislodge the fingers, or evade them, it didn't work, he followed him wherever he went and his gentle grip around his forehead kept him in place.

"I don't believe you." He dragged a single finger down from the tip of his chin, across the taught skin, down to his collar, and spider'd all five back up again. "Listen to those bubbly giggles." He moves his fingers again, dragging two up to a point just behind his right ear and down to his collar, again and again, Sorath bites his lip harder to keep the giggles from gushing out at the repetitive light touch.

The giggles overpower his willpower when the fingers wiggle a path from the side of his neck, over his throat, and up under his chin.

Shaking his head frantically, in an attempt to dislodge the torturous fingers, a soft snort escapes from his tightly sealed lips and light, high-pitched giggles fill the Power's bedroom.

Titus chuckles warmly, fondly, tilting his head back against his stomach, a bit firmer this time, to keep him from shaking his head in a vain attempt for escape to his playful torture. His younger brother shrieks lightly, a bright shriek, a far away sound from the angry snarls that usually came from him after a bout of silence, when he strokes all five fingers down the front of his taught neck and back up again, scratching lightly under his chin. "I should do this more often." He lets go of his forehead, smiling to himself in amusement when the young guard, rather noticeably, doesn't pull away from him at first chance, and he wiggles those fingers around the right side of his neck, as he wiggles the fingers of his left hand around the other.

Sorath shrieks and giggles, shaking his head lightly, pulling his shoulders back up.

He pause his playful assault and the shoulders fall away.

The fingers on the right side of his neck start wiggling and he shrieks, giggling like a fledgling, as he thrusts his shoulder up, tilting his head to try and block the fingers.

He pauses and the young guard slowly uncurls.

The fingers on the left side of his neck start wiggling now, and he shrieks again, giggling those high pitched giggles again, as he thrusts his shoulder back up, tilting his head to that side.

They repeat that game over and over again.

"Like I said, I should do this more often, we can tickle and giggle that rage away."

"Tuhuhus!"

"I love your giggles." He wiggles his fingers on both sides, the shoulders scrunching up like a turtle sliding into its shell, giggling brightly and happily. "They're so cute."

"Stohoohohop!"

"What's the magic word?"

Sorath shakes his head, giggling and giggling. "Plehehehease!"

Titus chuckles, pulling back, noting the knowledge that, not once, had the young guard pulled away from him even though he was free to do so at any time, seeing as nothing had been holding him back. He strokes his cheek as he comes out from behind him, coming around to sit in front of him on his bed, Sorath ducked, hiding his shining eyes and flushed cheeks and he ducked in an attempt to get to his eyes and make that contact. "Sora, I did notice, you didn't try and pull away."

The guard blushed all the way to his ears, ducking in on himself further, petting his fingers over the top of his airplane. He liked the gently, playful touch, it made him feel bubbly and happy. He liked laughing, it felt better then being angry all the time, he liked it. He never admitted it, not when he had been a small fledgling, his guardian had yelled at him when he'd giggle at the light touch to his neck during haircuts, so he bit back his giggles and laughter, and turned them into growls and snarls, and not when he'd grown older. He thought it was inappropriate, because his guardian had said it was, so he just kept it to himself and let his anger at life fester.

"Sora?" He winced at the concern in the gentle Power's tone.

"Ilikeit."

His captain chuckles lightly, poking his hand lightly. "I didn't quiet catch that."

"I said," he takes a deep breath. "I said, I like it."

"You like being tickled?"

A bout of silence fell between them, as the young angel waited for the explosion tensely, this would be the one thing that broke the thing they had going. He wouldn't be getting any more toys, he'd have to hide the ones he had to keep them safe, his mind automatically running through hiding spots around his room.

He looked up with wide eyes with a gentle finger poked his nose, Titus smiled at him. "Okay."

"O..Okay?"

"Okay. That's okay." The Power nods at him kindly. "It's okay to like something."

Sorath gives him a small smile. "Really?" He looks down for a moment before returning his gaze upwards. "You don't think it's bad?"

"Of course not." He shakes his head. "I don't very much mind what it is you like, if you like it, then you like it."

He returns the smile when the young guard looks up at him and smiles. "Thanks, Tus."

"Of course, Sora." He reaches forward and squeezes his young guards knee lightly, he jolts under his touch, giggling lightly. "If you ever want me to tickle you, you just have to ask, alright?"

"No!" His eyes widen and he shakes his head frantically. "No, I can't ask! People might think I'm bad! I don't want anyone to know!"

"Okay, that's fine, we can have a secret word," Titus pat his knee reassuringly. "We can use a codeword when you want to be tickled."

Sorath thinks it over carefully, but nods in approval, that would be better then saying it outright.

"You think of the code word."

He hums, thinking deeply, extensively, it had to be a word that meant something to them both, something that had meaning to them. It had to be a good word. A word that be well heard.

"Robot."

Titus smiles lightly. "Alright, whenever you want me to tickle you, you just say 'robot'."

Sorath smiles at him in return, looking back down to his airplane in the next moment, turning one of the wheels with his free hand. "Thanks, Tus."

"Always."

…

_Day five: Final Determination_

Titus smiled to the one on his right, sitting cross legged on the floor next to his desk, completely captivated by the set of Legos they'd been given. An early reward for that day, it being his day off, there wasn't a chance for any outbursts, and he'd done so good through the week they'd had, only one outburst and it had been given at the final straw, he'd withheld as much as he could, over all, he'd been well behaved. Titus thought it appropriate to give him the toy early that morning.

He'd been sitting there since, putting together the Lego set, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth ever since.

He looked up at the knock on his door, fingers curling around the edge, pushing the door open gently for them to peek in. "Tus?" Nisroc appeared, and the guard captain smiled to him in greeting, waving him in. Nisroc pushed the door open completely, pausing for a moment at the sight of the new young guard, too captivated on his Lego set to notice the new arrival in the office, and smiled slightly at the peaceful, concentrated expression that adorned his features, far from the angry spirit he had seen a week and some days ago. "Come on in, Nis."

Titus's call of his name had the young guard looking up from his toy set, he smiled at him for a moment, a sight that stunned him for a brief time, and looked back to his toys again.

Shaking his head, he crossed into the office, and sat in one of the chairs across from his brother, setting his bag down on the chair next to him. He couldn't help but look back to the young guard, still on probation given his previous exchanges, and watch him concentrate so completely on putting his Lego set together, this angel was a complete turnaround from the angel he had seen a little over a week ago. He looked like a fledgling, gifted with a new toy to play with, and nothing else fit into that exciting little world.

"Tus, this…" The Captain of the Powers turns to his brother with a flabbergasted expression. "How did you do _this _in one weeks' time?"

"Oh, I have my ways," he winks at his Captain. "I know my guards _very _well."

"I see that." Nisroc turns back to the new guard, smiling slightly, it was an endearing sight. "Anything to report on him?"

"There was a bit of an outburst, just one, and it was handled as deemed necessary. Other then that," he smiles at his little guard as he gestures at him. "He's been like this. Sora's a good angel, he's got a good heart, we just have to work through a few things."

The elder Power nods in understanding, turning back to his brother, Titus meets his gaze. "And, you're sure you can take care of him?" He rubs at his cheek lightly, leaning back in the chair, and crosses his arms loosely. "Keep him in line?"

"I'm sure I got him covered." Titus leans over, brushing the young guards hair back, he smiles at the action, leaning into the Power's hand lightly, still completely focused on his toy set. "We have an agreement."

Sorath looks up at him, he knows when he's being talked about, and when it's okay for him to cut in. "It's the end of the week, Tus, did I do good enough for the toy store?"

He smiles at the young guards innocent question, his eyes are so bright, brighter then Nisroc has ever seen them, and he watches the interaction closely. "You sure did, Sora, you've been a very good angel. We'll go after I'm done here, alright?" Sorath nods, a bright smile spreading over his features, and Nisroc shakes his head in wonder. "Good angel, you keep working on your building for right now, okay?" Sorath nods again, tongue poking back out of the corner of his mouth, returning to his building of his Lego creation.

"Tus, I have to say," Nisroc nods lightly. "I'm very impressed with the progress you've made, and in the short amount of time that a week gives, I'm very impressed."

"Why, thank you, brother." Titus leans back slightly, crossing his own arms over his chest, he smiles mischievously. "Did you ever doubt me?"

"Not at all."

Nisroc smiles at him in fond amusement, nodding his head, he looks back to the young guard next to them. "You have my permission. I can see how much good you're doing for him, it would be wrong to take that now, you may have him as one of your guards."

"Thank you, older brother, I really appreciate it."

The Power's Captain nods, smiling as he leans forward with his bag, Sorath looks up at him when he pats his cheek with an outstretched finger. "Here, I got you a gift for your new position."

"A gift?" Sorath's eyes widen, as his hands slowly lower, setting the half completed Lego creation down in his lap. "For me?"

"Yes, for you, Tus actually came to me earlier this morning with his report, this was only for formality." He smiles when the guard tentatively takes the bag from him. "I thought it was right to give a gift for the event."

Sorath's eyes widen with awe, pulling the gift bag closer, and tentatively pulls the thin gift paper out of the bag. Dipping his hand in, his fingers curl around something smooth, it has wheels, he feels it turn under his fingers. Biting his lip in excitement, he's got a present, he pulls out a small wooden toy. It's as big as his hand, has four wheels, and a smoke stack. "A toy train!" He smiles as he runs it over his leg, around in an arch in front of him, eyes shining with happiness. "Thanks!"

"You're very welcome, Sora, but that's not all."

He turns to look up at the elder Power with wide eyes. "There's….There's more?"

Nisroc nods, smiling at his excitement. "There is."

A bright, excited smile lighting his features, he reaches back into the bag. It's something soft, squishy under his fingers, slightly awkward in shape. He pokes his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and pulls it out of the back, it becomes as light as air, he knows that its empty and he sets it down. It's a stuffed toy, in an assortment of blue colors, and he hugs it close to his chest. "You got me a stuffed animal!" He hugs it close, twisting around, like a fledgling in all their innocence. "Thank you! I love my new toys!"

"You are very welcome, young Sora, I left you one more gift." Sorath's eyes widen almost comically, mouth falling slightly ajar. "That's right, it's in a box, sitting on your bed."

He immediately snaps his attention to his captain, eyes wide and pleading, hopeful and excited. Titus chuckles lightly, nodding his head in permission, waving to the door gently. "Go on and check it out." Sorath quickly climbs to his feet. "But, Sora," and turns back around to his captain. "Make sure to come back and clean up your mess."

"Okay!" He runs from the room, the anticipation killing him, and they watch him go with both amusement and fondness.

Nisroc shakes his head lightly. "I am truly impressed."

"You're spoiling him, already."

"It was nothing," he waves his hand lightly, winking at his younger brother, rubbing at his arm softly. "It's just a box of Paul and Sasha's old toys."

"I can't believe you." Titus snorts at him. "You're such a softie."

"Tus! Tus!"

They both turn as the young guard joins them again, the box of toys clutched in his arms against his chest, and they share a smile. "Yes, Sora?"

"Look at what Nisroc gave me!"


	102. Using The Secret Weapon

"Abner, you're wasting my time," he rubs at the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "And, I'm a very busy angel, I don't like my time being wasted."

"I just don't understand why we have to talk to you _every _day!"

"You _know _why." He turns to the one sitting between the two bedridden sentries . "Titus, if you'd please." The Power nods, turning away from the whispered conversation he was having with the younger sentry, leaned back slightly, and buried his face into the side of the elder sentry's neck.

Abner shrieks immediately, scrunching his shoulder up, trying to lean away from the Power. He chuckles against the skin of his neck and it brings him to shriek again, the arm curled around his waist pulls him close, keeping him from moving away from him.

The Virtue gives him a minute, Titus enjoys torturing his old charges, so there's no worry he'll get bored of it. He smirks at the fledgling like, high pitched giggles, coming from the sentry. "Thank you, Tus."

The Power nods, pressing a kiss to the smooth skin, and pulls away, turning around to the younger sentry to return to his whispered conversation with his younger sentry charge.

Abner glares at the mental specialist, swallowing the rest of his giggles as best as he can, and he smirks at the sentry. "You want to talk now?" He nods to the Power next to him. "If not, I'm sure Titus would be happy to convince you a bit more."

"I don—" The sentry feels his older brother shift beside him, and he giggles in anticipation, leaning away from him. "No! No! I'll talk! I talk!"

"Good." Akriel leans back in his chair, he can't help the smirk that overcomes his features. "Let's talk."


	103. Using The Secret Word

It had been the longest week in his entire life.

Metatron had been picking on him all week, and no matter how many times Sabaoth told him to shut up, he kept going, and no matter how much he assured him that none of what he was told was true, it still hurt to hear it. He tried his hardest to keep his anger in check, not ruin his chances of getting a new toy at the end of the week, or get his toys taken away, or be sent to bed without playtime. He loved playtime. It was his favorite time of the day. Sabaoth asked him about his toys a lot, which one was his favorite, which one he thought was the most fun to play with, which one he played with more often, what his new toys were, all of the above. Sabaoth tried his best to keep him distracted from the cruel taunts being thrown his way.

How he wasn't good enough.

The Power was just humoring him.

How he had failed at the one thing that would make him a somebody.

Rahab and Osmadiel told him to shut up too, but the exiled scribe would just laugh, and say that he was speaking nothing but the truth.

One whole week of that, and he was at his breaking point, he wanted to hit something or break something or tear something. He wanted to punch Metatron in the face, more then once, until his jaw was broken in two and he couldn't spew another cruel word.

Sabaoth had told him to go see Titus, before they'd parted ways, the older guard, his partner heading in the direction of his own room to turn in early for the night. He had a headache and there was nothing better to calm a headache but to rest.

He said that Titus would make him feel better again. Titus always knew how to make them feel better. Titus would be happy to help him feel better again.

Titus would help.

So, he took his guiding suggestion to heart, Titus was nice to him, he gave him a new toy at the end of every week that he controlled his temper and didn't lash out for unjustified reasons, he gave him a new toy. He loved his toys, he loved playing with them, whether it be in Titus's office or in his room, he loved playing with his toys. His most favorite toys were his robot and wooden train, because they'd been the first toys he'd gotten from his captain and their Captain, his second most favorite was his stuffed dolphin, whom he had named Splash. His favorite kind of toy to get was the Lego toys, he liked putting them together, to see what they created. He knew that Titus took them out of the box they came in, giving him only a bag full of little Lego pieces and the instructions detailing how to put them together, so that the creation was a surprise. He liked that Titus did that. He liked surprises.

Titus came to say good night, every night, and he'd sit on the edge of his bed as he pulled the blankets up to his chin and ask him about his day, and he listened to everything he said, he listened to it and remembered it, he didn't just nod along and hum in mock acknowledgement.

He put an extra table in his room, it was a small table, that was covered in the little pieces of a half completed puzzle, they were putting working on it together.

Sorath stopped by his room first, on his way there, to put his sword away and change into some comfortably clothing, before heading his way upstairs. He knows Titus will be in his room, the sun is slowly setting, training completed just an hour before, and it was time to wind down and relax now.

The Lounge is empty when he finally makes his way up to the top, above the barracks, into the Pavilion. The only one present is Nisroc, mixing something in the cooking pot over the simmering fire in the cooking fireplace, and he when he turns to see who has come up to their home and smiles in greeting to the young guard. "Hello, Sora."

"Hi."

"Looking for Tus?" He turns, dropping what he had been chopping up on the counter into the pot, and stirs it, turning back to him again.

The young guard nods. "Yes."

"He's down in his room. Third door on the right." He tests the creation in the pot and hums, turning for some spices in the built in shelf in the stone fireplace. "We've got more then enough stew. I'll make you up a bowl when it's done. You can eat here with us."

The young guard thanks him softly, turning down the hallway, counting the doors as he passes them. He stops just outside the third one on the right, staring at the wooden obstacle in front of him. Titus had said he could always come to him, they both knew their secret word, he said he'd do anything he asked of him, within reason, he only need to ask.

Taking a deep breath, he knocks on the door, waiting for the call from within to grant him entrance. When he hears it, he takes another deep breath, and pushes the door open. His captain looks surprised to see him, sitting on the edge of his bed, but smiles at him none the less. "Hello, Sora," he tilts his head slightly. "What can I do for you?"

He knew, of course, the kind of week the young guard had experienced. Sabaoth had come in to tell him on Wednesday, he was going to have words with him on Saturday, so that his young guard didn't know.

Sorath takes a deep breath, holding himself carefully, he doesn't truly know if he meant it when he said to merely ask him if he needed anything.

"Robot."

He watches as the Power nods once, throwing himself forward for him, and yelps when arms catch him around the waist and the Power stands, lifting him up over his shoulder. "C'mere you." He shrieks at the sudden change of position, gripping the back of the Power's tunic as he turns quickly, kicking his door shut, this is a private moment and he doesn't want his charge to feel uncomfortable. He carries the young guard around his room for a moment, putting the book he had been reading back on his desk, pulling the blankets back into place, and then he bends forward, pulling the younger angel from over his shoulder over onto his bed. Sorath looks up at him with big bright eyes, shining with anticipation and excitement, and he smiles down at him gently. "Come on, lay back on the pillows, they won't bite you."

Sorath giggles lightly, pulling himself up onto the Power's bed more completely, his head cushioned on the pillows, and he flops down into a comfortable position. Giggling lightly when the Power crawls up from the foot of his bed, playful in nature, smiling at him as he stalks forward, coming to loom over him.

"You want some tickles?" The young guard nods, his smile bright and childlike, peering up at his captain with an excited shine to his gaze. "You want _me_ to give you some tickles?" The Power smiles down at him, leaning forward, slowly lowering himself towards the side of his neck, Sorath's giggling grows in quantity and he scrunches his shoulder up in anticipation, the Power chuckles as he's forced to a halt. He curls the fingers of his right hand over his shoulder lightly. "Open up."

He shakes his head, scrunched up like a turtle, shrieking when fingers wiggle over the other side of his neck, and he immediately turns to that side. The Power chuckles again, pulling his shoulder down quickly, and buries his face into that side of his neck. Sorath squeals brightly, turning back to that side, but the older angel is already in. "My pillows may not bite." He nibbles lightly at his neck and Sorath shrieks brightly. "But I most certainly do." He shakes his head, blowing a light raspberry, before nibbling playfully again. "You're mighty tasty."

"Tuhuhus!"

The Power smiles against his neck, presses a kiss to the smooth skin, and pulls back, looming over him again. "We know your neck is ticklish, but are you ticklish anywhere else?" Sorath shakes his head, giggling like a fledgling, and the Power smiles down at him fondly, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose playfully. "You're not going to say?" The young guard shakes his head again. "You want me to find out on my own?" He giggles up at him and he smiles at him endearingly. "It's like a giggly scavenger hunt."

He wiggles his fingers above him, and the young guard giggles pick up in pace, eyes jumping from one hand to the other.

"Okay, so we know your little neck makes you all giggly," he leans forward, wiggling his fingers against the smooth skin gently, but playfully, and Sorath makes a choked giggling sound, scrunching up around his fingers. "What about here?" He points at his arms and Sorath shakes his head quickly, Titus smiles down at him, tilting his head slightly. "Now, why don't I believe that?"

Sorath giggles and shakes his head again, clamping his arms down tightly, and the Power chuckles. "I feel like you're hiding something I'd like from me?" He raises his arms slightly. "Arms up, little angel."

He throws his arms up, and immediately back down when fingers dig into his underarms, he squeals brightly, pressing back into the pillow deeply as he laughs with boisterous excitement, happiness shining in his eyes every time he opens them. "I _knew_ you were hiding a tickle spot from me." Titus's intertwines his fingers with his young little guard's and lifts his left arm up over his head. He wiggles the fingers of his right hand above him. "And, for that," He smiles down at the guard, biting his lip, giggles still managing to escape, staring at his wiggling fingers intensely. "You get armpit tickles." He digs his wiggling fingers into his underarm, chuckling softly at the laughter that explodes from the guard, the way he arches under him, presses his head back into the pillow again.

"I think I like this spot." Titus pokes his underarm repetitively, wiggling a single finger into the hollow area, and smiles at the happiness that shines in his young angels eyes. After the week he's had, he needs some tickles and laughter, something to lift his mood again, and he'd be more than happy to assist. "This may be my new favorite spot." He carries on for a minute more, just savoring the belly laughter, before he lets go of his hand and pulls back. "Okay, we have two spots, let's see if we can find any more."

He looks down at his torso, poking a few fingers into his ribcage, and raises his eyebrows at the high pitched giggles. "Oh, do we have something here?" He pokes his fingers over his inner torso. "Is it the inner ribs?" He pokes around a bit but all he gets are a few high pitched giggles. "Or the outer ribs?" Titus pokes his fingers over his outer ribs, and the reaction is much different, he squeals brightly, and begins squirming side to side. "Oh, outer ribs for sure."

Sorath giggles deeply, his chest heaving lightly, when he pulls his hands back again. Wiggling his fingers above him, the giggles increase in volume, he dips one hand, and he jumps to one side, dips the other, and he jumps to the other. "Where's it going to go?" His giggles grow into soft laughter, shrieking with each dip his hands making, jumping from one side to the other. "Let's try both." He digs his fingers into both sides of his rib cage, spidering them all over, and the young guard squeals brightly. "Oh, both was a good idea." He leans forward, over him, and digs in a bit harsher. Sorath screams with laughter, twisting and turning, trying to dislodge those torturous fingers from his ribs. "Coochie, coochie, coo, little angel."

"What about your sides?" He wiggles his fingers down to his sides, and smiles with he gains himself another squeal, spidering his fingers up and down his sides, he teases him. "Tickle, tickle, tickle, little angel." He stops, resting his fingers against his abused sides, and his uproarious laughter slowly calms into giggles, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. "Have you had enough tickles, little guy?"

The young guard giggles breathlessly, smiling up at him for a long moment, no response to his question being made just yet. After a long moment, his breathing slowly evening out, he begins giggling again and shakes his head.

Titus chuckles down at him. "No?" He wiggles a finger into his side. "You need more tickles?"

He nods quickly.

"Okay, little guy, I can give you more tickles." He pokes him in the belly. "What about this belly, is this belly a wee bit ticklish?" Sorath smiles, giggling harder, and sucks in his belly as much as he can. The Power smiles at his action. "I'm going to take that as a yes, this is a ticklish little belly." He pokes his fingers around his lower belly, up around his belly button, and then over his upper belly, all around, his laughter is a bubbly, fledgling like, laughter that makes him laugh softly with him. "Something inside me wants to give this belly a bit of a tickle torture." He retracts his hands, his wiggling fingers, and gently he slides his hands up under his tunic, posing his fingers over his bare belly. "I'm going to tickle torture this belly."

Sorath squeals when he digs his fingers in.

When he lifts his tunic up from over his belly and he buries his face into the smooth shaking skin.

He squeals when he nibbles on the slight pudge of his lower belly.

He squeals with every kiss and raspberry he presses and blows against his shaking belly.

He squeals and squirms and laughs, head thrown back, pushing against the Power's head as much as he can.

It takes a long couple of minutes, and he's breathless by the time he does, but the Power pulls back and tugs his tunic back down. "More tickles, little angel?"

The young guard shakes his head, giggling breathlessly, and curls up slightly when the Power climbs off his waist, falling next to him on the pillows. "C'mere, baby angel." He tugs lightly on the young guards sleeve, until he slinks over and collapses against his side, cuddled up against him, and the Power runs his fingers through his wavy locks gently. "Feel better?"

Sorath nods.

"Good." He scratches lightly at his scalp. "You know what he says is not true. I'm not just humoring you, I happen to be very fond of you, you're mine."

He looks up at the Power. "I'm yours?"

Titus nods, looking down at him, and smiles gently. "My little angel. All mine. I'm not sharing you with any one else." He squeezes him close for a moment and settles them back down again. "Metatron is a spiteful little man, don't listen to a word he says, it's just not true."

"He said I was a failure."

"Not fitting into one role doesn't make you a failure." He leans his head against the young guards, pressing their foreheads together, he kisses his nose lightly. "Being a Power just didn't fit. But you're a wonderful guard, Sabaoth has nothing but good things to say about you, that's where you fit. That's your calling." He kisses the side of his head and lays back down. "It most certainly means you are not a failure."

"So, I'm good."

"You are a very good angel, little guy, you have your moments, but we all do, that most certainly doesn't make you bad."

They lay there in companionable silence for a while, Sorath even dozes off against the mighty Power for a short while, his fingers brushing through his hair comforting him down to light slumber, and Titus just lays there, petting his fingers through his young angel's hair, eyes closed as he relaxes against his pillows.

Their silence is broken by the soft knock on his door.

"Supper's on, come and get it while it's warm."

"Coming, Nis." He opens his eyes, sighing deeply, and turns to look at his young guard. Smiling to himself, he scratches at his scalp softly. "Sora, you have to wake up." He mumbles softly and nuzzles closer. "Come on, Sora, are you hungry?"

The guard nods lightly.

"Then let's go get some stew."

He shakes his head slightly and nuzzles closer.

Titus chuckles. "We can come back here after supper, okay?"

Sorath thinks on it, takes it as a good deal, and slowly sits up.


	104. Skipping School

"Costa? Should you not be in class right now?"

The fledgling scoots farther under the large oak desk, whimpering softly at the mere word, and he curls in tighter. He does not like going there, they're mean to him, because of his size, and he's never going back. No matter what his choir master says. Never going back.

He hears faint rustling as the elder shuffles through some files of whomever his patients are this week, and a set of legs come to the opening in the back of the desk, he doesn't sound angry with him, which is a relief at a moment like this. He sits in his desk chair, robes settling over his knees, and the fledgling giggles softly despite himself when he wiggles his toes.

The chair scoots back just an inch, and large hands pat his robe covered lap invitingly. "Come here little one."

Constantine crawled out from his hiding place, and reached his little hands up, sniffling when fingers hook under his arms and snag him up, settling him on his lap. Raphael gives him a soft look and rubs away the trace of tears with a gentle thumb.

"What are you doing here my fledgling? I do believe your brothers are in the class that you are meant to be in as well."

The young boy huffs softly, tugging one of the many folds of the healers robe up and around him, settling back against the elders chest. Large hands fold in front of him, fingers locking together, completely at ease. Constantine whimpered softly and tugged at his robes. Raphael peered down at him, rubbing at his head a moment, "Perhaps we should spend the day together? It has been so long since it has been just us."

He sniffled again, looking up at the archangel with large widened eyes, he had thought that surely he would be scolded for missing classes and then taken there straight away. His guardian was a busy angel, being the Healer of all of Heaven and having his own classes to teach to the angels higher above Constantine in the food chain. Personal time with Raphael was something that was hard to come by.

"I can most certainly clear my day for my youngest charge."

Constantine giggles softly, wetly, into the healers robes as the fingers itch softly into his left side, "You not mads?'

Raphael tilts his head as he gazes back down to his youngest, "Oh? And why would I be angry with you?" He lifts the little one up as he stands himself, settling the boy on his hip, "I can see when one of my little ones has need of my time." He wipes away the tears again, brushing a finger over his chin, and taping the tip of his nose, smiling when he gives a soft little giggle again. "What do you want to do today, my little fledgling?"

"Can we….Can we goes to the Garden and has some fruits?"

"Sure, we can." He bounces him lightly on his arm as he turns, gathering a blanket up from the table against the window. "What else should we do?"

"Cans you read to me?"

"Of course, I can." The Healer turns them to the bookshelf in his office, patting his bottom lightly. "You pick the story."

The little fledgling healer taps his lips softly with a tiny little finger. "T'at one!" He points at a green book, that's his favorite color, and looks up at the Healer with a bright smile.

Raphael chuckles softly, pointing to the book that was gestured to. "This one, Costa?"

"T'at one, RaRa!"


	105. Bribery At Its Finest

"Akriel, you're not going to feel better if you don't take your medicine."

"No!" The fledgling turned his head to the left, away from the spoon full of medicine, lips clenched shut as tight as he can manage. "It's yucky!" And then he turns his head to the right, turning his chin up away from the spoon. "No!"

"You'll never get him to take it that way." The newly graduated healer looked up at the archangel at his approach. "He's a stubborn one, this fledgling." He holds a hand out for the spoon and the medicine, to which the exasperated young healer gladly passes over. "Allow me?"

Raphael kneels, just before the stubborn little fledgling, and points the spoon at him. "Akriel, you know how this works."

"But, it's yucky!"

The archangel hums softly. "You like coming along with me, don't you Akriel?"

"I like it!"

"You can't come along with me unless you take your medicine."

The fledgling pouts, reaching forward for him, and he holds a finger up at the boy. "No, no. No hug until you take your medicine." Akriel frowns, his little lip pouting out, and he reaches out again. "You heard me Akriel."

"But—But! Hug!"

"Only after you take your medicine." He uncaps the bottle and pours a bit into the spoon. "Come now, I've got a big warm hug all for you, just a small sip."

The fledgling pouts even still. "Big hug?"

"The biggest hug."

Akriel sniffles and nods, opening his mouth for the spoon and medicine, and makes a face as he swallows it. This time when he reaches out, and he does reach out, the archangel obliges his request and keeps true on his promise. He passes the spoon and bottle back to the young graduate, and curls his fingers under the fledglings arms as he stands, lifting him up with him. Akriel curls his arms around his neck, his legs around his waist, and the archangel cuddles him close.

"There you are, a big warm hug, was that so hard?"

"I like your big warm hugs!"

He chuckles, kissing his cheek lightly. "You'd get more of them freely if you'd just take your medicine."

"I like being a challenge."

The archangel squeezes his fingers into the fledglings little thigh, and he shrieks brightly, kicking his leg in an attempt to evade the archangel's fingers. "You mean to tell me you're being so difficult on purpose?"

"Nohoho?"

"Well, no matter, you're a cute little fledgling." He bounces him softly and presses a kiss to his cheek. "I forgive you."


	106. Meeting The Medic

He wobbles up the stone stairs that lead to the Pavilion above rather carefully, too much weight on his right ankle makes it ache unbearably, he'd landed on it wrong during their little skirmish and it twinged ever since when he put weight on it, so he avoided it at all costs. Anything to keep it from hurting, to avoid the pain, something he should be tougher on, bite his lip and deal with it.

Sablo guesses, he is dealing with it in a way, he's decided to keep it to himself. Not worrying any of the others with a slight twisted ankle, it'll be fine by morning, it's a slight twist. No matter getting anyone worked up about simple things. He'd deal with it on his own and be right again in the morning.

"What happened to your ankle?"

He jumps, startled out of his thoughts by the voice behind him, stern but concerned, and would have fallen backwards had it not been for the large warm hands that curled around his waist to keep him in place, to keep him from falling backwards, down the stairs behind him.

The young elect turns to thank whoever stopped him from falling backwards, his words catching in his throat, he'd only ever met him in passing, he'd found a rather ticklish spot on his thighs, and again on his feet, had a bit of fun, and left him be to his fate with Nisroc. And, yet, here he stood, holding him up from behind, an eyebrow raised as he waited for the answer to his question, was the Power medic.

Puriel frowned at him lightly. "Well?"

"I—I—Hi."

"Hello," The Power looks down at his ankle. "What happened to your ankle?"

Sablo licks his lips, not wanting to upset him anymore then he already has, even keeping it to himself had caused concern. "I—I think I twisted it."

"You twisted it?"

He nods. "Nothing to worry about. It'll be fine by morning." He gestures to the stairs, up to the entrance of the Lounge above them. "I'm just making my way to my room."

"I think I'll be the judge of the injury," the medic adjusts his hold over him carefully. "Stand straight."

"Stand..." His eyes widen slightly. "You _mean_ stand on it?"

Puriel nods. "Yes, I mean for you to put weight on it." He squeezes his hips lightly. "Stand straight."

Sablo nods, licking his lips again, and tenses just before he stands straight, as ordered, and gives a small cry as he settles weight on his ankle. It gives out from underneath him, and he would have fallen to the side had the medic's hold not been so firm on him. "Just as I thought." The Power guides his arm around his shoulders, bent slightly to keep him level, and nods upwards in a gesture for him to take a step forward. The young elect bites his lip as he hops slightly, to make it to the next step, its much easier with the Power helping him. Puriel is practically carrying him up these stairs, as they climb them much faster then he'd have been able to on his own, and sooner then he thought they'd be, they're cresting the edge of the final stair to step into the Lounge.

"What do you mean?" He looks up at him, eyes wide and curious, and Puriel spares him a smile as they continue their trek through the Lounge towards the hall that contains their rooms. "What did you think?"

"You did more then twist your ankle, Sablo," the young elect watches as they pass his room, heading down the hall to another, and the medic pushes the door to his own room open. "I could see that as I watched you make your way through the field for the stairs."

"What did I do to it then?" He tilts his head slightly. "If I didn't twist it?"

"You're a curious little thing, aren't you?" The medic smiles at him, its an endearing trait, it's the trait of a boy looking to learn everything they possibly can. "From what I can see, you've broken your ankle, now, a question of my own," he spares him another glance. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Sablo looks down, averting his gaze slightly, feeling his face heat up. "I..I didn't want to worry anyone."

"I do believe Nis has been telling you about your new older brothers?"

"Yes, sir, he ha—"

"Watch it, mister," a finger pokes him in the side lightly and he smiles at the feeling. "I also know for a fact, a clear fact, that he's been telling you _not_ to call us that." Puriel winks at him playfully. "We don't _like_ it."

"Sorry, won't happen again, si—I mean Puriel. _Puriel_."

"Oh, call me Puri, everyone here does." He helps him gently down onto the bed, easing him down, and he bites his lip to keep from crying out when it jostles his ankle. "Easy, easy, watch that ankle." He helps him scoot back on his bed, settling him up against the pillows. The Power sits on the end of his bed, picking up his wounded ankle lightly, turning to look at him. "Hold onto the quilt now, I'm going to pull your boot off, it's going to ache a bit."

Sablo nods, gripping the quilt tightly, and waits for him to do as he pleases. Puriel nods at him, curling his fingers above the edge of his boot, and then around the ankle of his boot. He squeezes his leg as though in forewarning for what he's about to do, and tugs on his boot, Sablo tries his best not to cry out, a small yelp escapes him before he catches it, and the medic makes quick work, tugging his boot off in one motion.

"Alright, let's take a look at the damage." He tugs his sock off gently, and lifts his leg slightly, examining his ankle closely. "Most definitely broken. The bruising is deep. The swelling isn't too bad. It's a clean break." He turns to look at him, and smiles, squeezing his calf lightly. "Good news is, you'll live."

"I'm relieved."

"Tsk, tsk," he reaches up and squeezes his knee lightly, the young elect bites back a soft shriek and jolts lightly, the Power smiles knowingly. "Such cheekiness is not allowed in this room. You must be punished now." He turns back to his ankle, setting it down lightly, and stands from the edge of the bed. "I'll tend to your ankle first. And, then, I'll deal with your cheekiness."

Sablo watches him crosses the threshold of his room to a shelf against the opposing wall, digs through some of the items, and gathers what he needs. Puriel hums as he works, crossing back over the threshold of the room, sitting back on the edge of the bed, pulling his injured foot back up in his lap. He watches him, somewhat mesmerized, as he works diligently and quickly. Straightening his ankle out, splinting it securely, binding it in a swath of bandages to keep it secure, and sets it gingerly back on the bed. Leaning over the bed, he passes him a vial, Sablo takes it curiously. "It's for the pain."

He thanks him softly and pulls the stopper, downing the contents in one gulp, and immediately he feels the ache lift little by little.

"I'm also sure that Nis has enlightened you to our rules," Puriel turns to look at him more directly, folding one of his legs in front of him, Sablo looks up at him with wide frightened eyes. "Oh, relax, we're not barbaric." He leans forward and pats his good leg. "You are, however, going to be confined to your room for the next week. You can come out for training, meals, and to relieve yourself, but other wise you stay put."

"Now," he curls his fingers around his good ankle and gives it a slight tug, pulling it up to rest in his lap. "About that cheekiness."

"I'm sorry, sir, it wo—" His apology is cut off by a light shriek, having tugged his other boot off, the Power scratching a finger over the sole of his foot. "Now, I'm sure you've been told how much we _detest _being called that." He tugs on his ankle again, bending his knee over his thigh as he moves around the edge of the bed, closer to him. "Let me show you what happens to those who get cheeky with their medic."

He goes straight in, no forewarning, perhaps a little bit of forewarning, and pinches at the meat of his inner thigh. Sablo squeals brightly, an involuntary squeal, and he tugs at his captive leg in a desperate manner as he squeezes all over, bright boisterous laughter filling the medic's room with its brightness. Puriel chuckles. Spidering his fingers over his inner thigh, driving the young elect crazy with laughter, and he chuckles at his expense.

"Nis was right, you know," he lifts his leg slightly, digging his fingers into the underside of his thigh, and he squeals again, kicking as much as he can with his good captive leg, he reminds him of a fledgling, when you tickle their little bellies, oh, he'll go there next. He can imagine their little elect has a sensitive little belly. "You are cute."

"I! I'm nohohohot cuhuhuteehehe! IhIhI'm tohohouhuhuogh!"

"Sure, you are, I've seen you train, I've seen you in a fight, you're tough." He lifts his leg just a bit more and spiders his fingers up to his knee and he shrieks with laughter. "But this, this right here, this is cute." He tucks his ankle under his arm and leans forward, digging the fingers of his right hand into the meat of his inner thigh again, and the fingers of his left hand under his leg, and Sablo squeals again, throwing his head back in uproarious laughter.

"And, this," he scoots up on the edge of the bed, smiling at the giggles that continue to spill from him, and leans over his waist, his right elbow resting next to his hip, posing his fingers over the sides of his belly. He smiles, wiggling his fingers in gently, and the young elect squeals brightly, squirming under him like a little worm. "This is adorable."

Sablo squirms under him, trying to get out from underneath his fingers, they wiggle torturously and relentlessly in his belly. Squealing and shrieking with laughter when he runs his fingers over his waist line, Puriel smiles down at him down at him, poking playfully at his belly. "They're right, you are a giggly little guy, aren't you?" He wiggles his finger under his belly button, and he bites his lip, little giggles escaping through the attempt at damming them. "As you already know, my name is Puriel, everyone calls me Puri, you can call me Puri." His finger travels from under his belly button to the side of his belly. "I'm another one of your new big brothers, little guy, and I can say with absolute certainty," he nods firmly, "that I am going to take great pleasure in giving this belly of yours a bit of a good tickle torture."

"Nohoho!"

"I imagine this belly must be very tickly ticklish if you're so against it." He wiggles his fingers into his belly lightly and the boy's giggles pick up in volume. "I think I love this little belly already. And your little thighs of course." The Power reaches back, squeezing at his thigh lightly, smiling when the boy squeal brightly and his leg jerks as far as it can from his fingers, no matter, he follows it. He squeezes his thigh for a minute longer and pulls his hand back, poking him in the belly again, all over, and the boy under him jolts and jerks with every poke. "This is my belly now. I'll share it with the others. But this belly is _my_ belly." Puriel smiles at him playfully, wiggling his fingers against the shaking belly gently, and the boy shrieks and arches his back, giggles turning to bright laughter. "Say this is my belly."

"Nohohoho! Sihihir!"

"What did you just call me?" He continues his gentle torture on his belly and wiggles the fingers of his other hand against his side, the boy shrieks, and squeals with laughter, arching his back again and squirming where he lay under the Power. "I swear I just heard you call me _'Sir',_ but I know you know not to, so I must be wrong, am I wrong?" The boy nods frantically, trying to suck in his belly, but his giggles make it extremely difficult to hold his breath in order for him to do so.

"Yeheheheahahes! I sahahahaid Purihihihiahaihiaihi! _Purihihiahahiahii!"_

"That's what I thought you said." He wiggles the fingers up over his side, and then back down over his belly, the little shaking, giggle filled belly. "Now, say this is my belly."

"Nohohoho! It's mihihiahihaihihiahine!"

Puriel chuckles softly, evading the hands batting at his rather expertly, he's the older brother of one Haniel, a rather playful and prankster younger Power, younger brother, and being so, his older brother, one of five, has become rather skilled at tickle torturing little angels. Trickster angels and stubborn angels alike. He can get them all, he's had lots of practice, Haniel and Hasmal can attest to that, Abraxas as well, Abraxos too, at some degree.

Let's just say he's a very skilled tickle monster when it comes to his baby siblings.

"Oh, no, no. It most certainly isn't. This," he wiggles two fingers on either side of his belly button. "This is my belly." His fingers pause, he rests his hands at his sides, and hums thoughtfully. "I think I know what'll get you to say it." He looks down at the belly, still shaking with giggles, even though he's stopped his playful torment. He tugs at the end of his tunic, covering his belly from him, tugging it up from under his belt. Sablo's giggles pick up in anticipation, as he tugs his tunic up from over his belly, baring it to the world around them, and the Power smiles down at him, wiggling his fingers over his belly playfully. "What's going to happen to this little belly now?"

"Nohohohthihihing!"

"No, I don't think that's true." He hovers his fingers right over his belly, wiggling still, their young elect giggles harder, watching his fingers closely. "I think it's going to get some tickles."

"Nohoho!"

"Oh, yes." His fingers finally touch down, and the young elect squeals brightly, arching his back at the sudden sensation. He looks like a fledgling, batting at his hands, smile splitting his face, head thrown back against the pillow underneath him, it's an endearing sight, and it makes the elder Power smile. "My little belly is going to get some tickles." The medic spiders his fingers over to the left side of his belly and the little elect squeals again, leaning over to the right as much as he can, squealing again when the torturous fingers wiggle a path over to the right side of his belly, and he jumps away to the left. "This little belly appears to me to be a bit ticklish."

Sablo shakes his head frantically, boisterous laughter pouring from his lips, jumping from side to side as the fingers tortured the sides of his belly relentlessly.

"Oh, yes, it is," he digs his fingers into his lower belly and the boy arches his back again, laughter exploding harder from his lips. "My little belly is quite ticklish." He looks down to the belly with raised eyebrows. "Now, look at this little roll of baby fat."

"I dohohohahahoahoon't hahahhaahahave baahahahhahaby fahahahahaahhhat!"

"But, you do," he wiggles his index fingers into the little pouch of baby fat and the little elect squeals brightly, flowing right into uproarious laughter, pressing his head back into the pillow underneath him. "It's right here." He keeps on for a minute, just savoring the uproarious laughter coming from their giggly, ticklish little elect, and then he pulls back. "Now, are you going to say this is my little belly, or am I going to have to take some more drastic convincing measures?"

Sablo shakes his head stubbornly, he'd never say it, not even under the worst possible torture.

Puriel smiles down at him, poking his belly playfully, eliciting a bout of giggles from the boy. "You're cute." He continues to poke over his belly, bubbly giggles filling the room, and he smiles adoringly. "I like you, you giggly little elect, very much. Abe made the right choice in choosing you." He rests his hands on either side of him. "Now, about those drastic convincing measures," he looks down at the bare belly with a smile, eyeing it carefully, as though searching out a spot for attack. "Let's see if this'll make you say it."

Sablo's eyes widen, when it dawns on him what's about to happen, and he shakes his head frantically. "NO! No! No, no, no!" He squirms side to side, trying to pull himself out from under the medic. "Not that! Not that!"

"Oh, yes," he grips his sides to keep him still and bends forward. "_That_." Puriel presses his lips over the little elects belly button, takes a deep breath, and blows out a hard and long raspberry. The boy squeals loudly, brightly, and he laughs softly into his belly before he takes another deep breath. He squeals and jerks, arching his back with every harsh playful raspberry, at some point, the older Power snakes his arms under him when he arches his back again, his fingers coming out on either side, and he wiggles them into his sides torturously. He presses a kiss to the shaking belly. "I love this little belly. _My_ little belly." He takes a deep breath, buries his face into the left side of his belly, and shakes his head as he blows out another playfully long raspberry.

Sablo squeals and laughs, boisterous, uproarious laughter, over and over again. Shaking his head side to side, he first pushes against the medic's shoulders with all his might, then moves up to push at his head.

"My ticklish little belly." He takes another breath, buries his face into the right side of his belly, and shakes his head as he blows out another raspberry. "I'm not stopping until you say it."

He starts blowing little raspberries all over his belly, and Sablo screams in laughter, falling limp under the medic, his fingers curled in his hair, and he all but screams out what he needs to in order to get him to stop. "IHIHIHIT'S YOHOHOHAOHOAHAHAHOOUR BEHEHEHEHAHAHALELLY!"

"What was that?" He nibbles lightly at his baby fat, takes a deep breath, and buries his face in again to blow another big raspberry. "I didn't quite catch that."

"YOHOHOAHAHAHHOHOOURS! YOHOHHOAHAHAHHOUR BEHEHEHAHAHHAHAELLY!"

"Did you admit that this was my little belly?"

"YOHOHHOAHAHAHAHHOUR BEHEHEEAHAHAHAELLY!"

The older Power chuckles softly, peppering kisses over his belly playfully. "I love this tickly little belly." He blows a big raspberry into his lower belly. "I could tickle this little belly _all_ night." He smiles up at the hysterical boy underneath him. "And, there's _nothing_ you can do to stop me."

He takes a deep breath, puffing his cheeks up, and the little elect reacts instantaneously, bracing his hands against the Powers head, eyes wide, shaking his head frantically. "NO! NOOO! NO MORE! NO, NO, NO! STAY AWAY! STAHAHAHAY AWAHAHAHY! NOHHOHOAHHAHAHOO!" Sablo squeals and screams when his attempts at holding his face away from his belly fails him and he drops into his belly, burying his face in, and blows a big, long raspberry into his belly button. "IEIEIEEEEEHEHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAIEEHEHEHAHHAHA!"

"I know that you've been through Nis's tickle tortures. He's quite mean. I also know you and Aba are getting quite close," he pulls away and looks up at him, the little elects chest heaving for a breath, giggling feverishly as he watched him with wide attentive eyes. "I want to make sure you _know _what'll happen if I even _think_ you're having thoughts about coming after me."

"I sahahahaid it thohohough! I saahahahaid ihihit!"

"Oh, I know you did, and I'm happy that you admit this belly is my little belly to play with as much as I want to." He adjusts his position, climbing up over him, laying over his waist, his legs, straddling his legs to be mindful of his broken ankle. "_Now _I'm teaching a lesson. Don't worry, I'll give you breaks to catch your breath, I'm not cruel, I'm a medic after all." He crosses his arms over his waist to keep him in place. "That was just a bit of a good tickle torture, laughter's the best medicine you know, I'm a medic and an older brother, I'd know that." He leans forward against his arms. "But, now, now I'm going to give you the most tickly tickle torture you've ever had. Nis isn't _nearly _as bad as I am, _I'm_ the one you should _always _think twice about it before pranking. Because, I, I will make you _scream_ with laughter. Make you feel like that little fledgling squirming and squealing under the tickly torturous fingers of a big brother." He curls the fingers of his left hand around his baby brother's right wrist and pulls his arm away from his side, leaning over on his elbow, he examines the wide open side, free for him to torture as much as he pleases. "Now that I'm comfortable, lets begin." He leans down, taking a deep breath as he does, and buries his face into his bare side, blowing out a long hard raspberry. Sablo squeals, again and again, as he blows raspberry after raspberry over his side, shaking his head, he explodes with boisterous laughter when he nibbles at the slight chub on his side, reaching over with his right hand to wiggle his fingers into his side above him.

Sablo kicks his good leg wildly, drumming his heel into the mattress under him, smacking his free hand against the Powers head, squealing, and rolling from side to side, as best as he can, feeling very much like he was going to die from laughter, when the medic pulls away from his right side. The tingles are enough to keep a steady stream of giggles flowing. "We can't forget about your left side." He curls the fingers of his right hand around the little elects left wrist and pulls his arm away from his side. Sablo squeals, before he even does anything, and reaches over desperately with his right hand, trying to block his side from the torturous Power above him. "NO! NO! NOT AGAIN! NOHOHOAHAHAHHAHOT AGAHAHAHAHIAAHAN! SAHAHHTAHAHAHYAAY AWAY! NONONO! STAY AWAY!" He screams with laughter when the Power makes a show of taking a deep breath again, his cheeks puffing up, slowly lowering himself to his left side. "NO! NO! YOHOHOHAHAHAHHOU STAHAHAHAHAY AWAAHAHAHHAY! DON'T! DOHOHOHAHAHAHOON'T YOHHOHAHAHAHOOUHUHUHHAUAHUA DAHAHAHAHAHHAAHARE!"

The Power looks up at him, his eyebrows raised, letting go of his mouth full of air. "Don't you dare?" He digs the fingers of his free hand into his side and the younger angel shrieks in laughter, cackling bright and loud, smacking at the hand digging into his side. "_Don't you dare?" _Those fingers travel up and down his side, creating a tickly path up and down, and he rocks side to side in an attempt to evade them. "What are you going to do to stop me?" Fingers spider of his belly, Puri's belly, that's Puri's belly, and he squeals again. "There's nothing you can do, is there? You're just a ticklish little angel, aren't you, a ticklish little angel who's big brothers are going to tickle torture as much as they want to." A finger wiggles under his lowest rib and he snorts, shrieking and giggling. "Nis has told us all about your _old_ big brothers, he's very fond of you, you know, but he's told us all about them. We're not their biggest fans, as I'm sure you can imagine, they hurt their baby brother, and that's a big no-no. They may not have dared, they were bad big brothers, but we, we are very good big brothers." His finger pokes up and around his belly, Puri's belly, it's Puri's belly. "And, you'll learn rather quickly, we're a bunch of softies when it comes to our baby siblings. And you, little angel, are one of our baby siblings. What you'll also learn, very quickly, is when it comes to our baby siblings, and making them a giggling mess, we're a bunch of tickle monsters." He looks back down to his left side again, eyeing it playfully. "So, yes, I _do _dare."

"IEIEIEIEHEEHHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHAHA!" Sablo squeals loudly when he takes a deep breath and blows a long hard raspberry against his side, shaking his head, taking another deep breath, and he squeals again when he blows another vicious raspberry. "AHAHAHAHEIEIEIHAHAHAHAHEHEHEAHA!" He twists and turns his captured arm desperately, especially when he hears the medic take another breath, and when he manages to tug his wrist free, the Power adjusts, moving up to the middle of his side and digs his fingers into the upper and lower parts of his side, blowing another vicious raspberry against his side. "AHAHAHAHHEHEHEAHAHAHAHA SIEHAHEHEHEHHHIHIAHAHAHAHIR!"

He laughs at his expense pulling away from his side, looming over his belly, he digs his fingers into the sides of his belly torturously. "I _know _you didn't just call me _'sir'._" The boy shrieks and howls with laughter, jumping under him, from side to side, trying to shake his fingers off. "_Again_." He moves his fingers down to wiggle into his lower belly. "We'll break that habit of yours, oh, trust me, we will."

Puriel stops, pulling his fingers away, crossing his arms back over his waist again. Sablo's chest heaves for a breath, breathless giggles pouring from him like rain from a storm cloud, staring at the Power for any sense of movement on his part, any sense of more torture to come, vowing to himself that he'll be ready this time.

He smiles up at him. "Your sides are fun, I'll give Nis that, but me?" He turns his gaze down to his belly. "I like my belly. My adorable, ticklish, giggle filled belly." Sablo's giggles pick up lightly and he presses his hands over his belly, trying to protect it from any tortures, and it makes the Power chuckle. "NO! No! Stay away from my belly! Not my belly! Not again!" Puriel chuckles evilly, playfully, and slowly uncrosses his arms, gently curling his fingers around his wrists, pulling his hands away from his belly. Sablo shakes his head, his laughter picking up. "No! NO! You stay away! Stahahay awahahahay! Puahhahahauri! Puruahahahahuri! Nohohoho!"

"Puri isn't here right now, little angel," he lowers himself towards his free belly, shaking with laughter. "The tickle monster's here and he wants to tickle you."

Sablo throws his head back and screams with laughter when he takes a big breath and starts blow raspberries all over his belly, no breaks, no teasing in between, one right after another. He shakes his head, and the young angel's fingers flex, as he howls and cackles loudly.

He hears his door open, but he ignores it, blowing another raspberry against the young elects belly.

"Puri, we can hear you two all the way down the hall in the Lounge, you're going to kill the poor boy, that's enough." Sablo looks up at the new voice, squealing brightly as another raspberry's blown against his belly, reaching out for the one who stands in the doorway desperately. "Puri, I said that's enough." He goes ignored again, and this time he sighs, nodding in exasperation, uncrossing his arms, and stepped into the room. "Alright, if we're going to be that way, fine. The medic needs a taste of his own medicine and reminded of who's in charge here."

Puriel yelps when two large hands curl around his ribs and fingers dig in deeply, he lets go of the young elects wrists to reach for the fingers digging into his ribs, and he yelps with laughter when he's tugged up and off the younger angel and settled between someone's legs. Arms curl around his chest, fingers digging into his ribs again, and he shrieks, folding back against someone's chest. "When I tell you to do something, you better do it." He shrieks with laughter when a bearded face buries itself into his neck.

Sablo watches his torturer get a taste of his own medicine at the edge of the bed, his breathing slowly calming down, he tugs his tunic back down over his belly, and pushes himself to sit up again, flinching when he nudges his broken ankle.

The medic howls with laughter when an arm curls around his waist, to keep him in place, and fingers dig into his belly. He turns slightly, pulling medic around with him, and nods to his bound ankle. "What happened there, baby brother?"

"I broke my ankle."

"I see," his eyes turn to look into his. "And, did you tell anyone, or did he find out himself?"

"I…" Sablo looks down slightly. "I didn't tell."

"Mhm," he nods, adjusting his hold on the medic, and leans forward to dig his fingers into his thigh. Puriel squeals brightly, cackling loudly, tugging desperately at the older angel's arm. "You're confined to your room for one week."

"I know."

"Good angel." He turns to look down at the medic pressed against his chest. "How's that feel, Puri, huh?"

"Nihihihahahahisisis! Mehehehehahahercy! MERCY!"

"Hhm, I don't know, not only did you ignore me, but you didn't show any mercy on my _favorite_ little elect."

"I'm sohohohohahahahoahorry! I'M SORRY!"

"Nis," the Captain turns to look at their little elect. "Hhm?" Sablo looked down at the medic. "Puri said you weren't nearly as bad as he was. He said he was better then you."

Nisroc raises his eyebrows as he turns to look down at his younger brother, the medic giggles and smiles up at him, and he returns his smile. "Oh, did he now?"


	107. The Last Archangel In Charge

The first order of business was to ensure his Legions were working at their finest.

He started first in his own home, where he knew them personally, they were his own. He raised most of them himself, he knew them like he knew the back of his hand, they were his in every meaning of the word. His quiry was right before him, reading through the pages of a file, his poor Captain has been taking care of everything for him in his absence, running himself ragged in the process. Now that he had a moment to concentrate, a moment to be with himself, to be in his element, he could see what was right before his eyes. He looked as though he hadn't slept for the better part of four days, running on adrenaline and pure willpower, bless his weary heart, he'd kept the place going while he had to care for other things.

"Oren?"

The Virtue looks up at the call of his name, smiling to him in greeting as he approaches, he returns the smile in kind. He snags the top of the folder and pulls it from his hands. "I'll take that." Oren reaches for the file. "Wha—Bu—I'm working with that."

The archangel shakes his head. "You _were _working with it." He looks about the large Infirmary floor, he could never find them in a blink of an eye, but their guardians could, without a single hesitation. "Where is Inca?"

Oren turns, eyes winding just a moment, and gestures for the other side of the room. He's with Orion, he usually is, they're two peas in a pod. "He's over there."

"Good, get his attention."

"Sir," he raises an eyebrow at the title when he turns to gaze at his Virtue. "Is he in trouble?"

"Heaven's no," he smacks him in the arm with the file in his hand. "Get his attention."

Oren nods, raising his hand, having seen the gesture from across the room, he's very observant, given the obstacles he has to overcome. The young healer touches a hand to his friends arm, stepping away from her side, crossing the threshold of the Infirmary floor, to come to stand at their side.

He looks first to his guardian, with wide, inquisitive eyes, Oren simply shrugs and nods to the archangel and so he turns his wide inquisitive eyes. _'Am I in trouble?'_

"Just as I told your guardian, you are most certainly not in trouble, no," he shakes his head and tucks the file against his side. "The two of you are going to change into something comfortable, something _clean_, and find a bed. Preferably down here, where I may keep an eye on you both."

Oren tilts his head, not quite understanding the meaning behind the order, Inca looked between them both until his eyes inevitably fell on his guardian. The Virtue spared him a glance, curling his fingers around the back of his neck comfortingly, before looking back up at his Archangel. "I—I don't understand. Did I do something wrong?"

"Why is it you are adamant you should be in trouble, have you done anything that would warrant such action?" Raphael shakes his head lightly, gesturing to him as a whole. "You're _exhausted_ Oren, the bags under your eyes are gaining bags of their own, you're as pale as a ghost, in Father's name, you're _swaying _where you stand." He crosses his arms loosely. "So, as I said, you two are going to march yourselves over, change into some new clothing, and find a bed to climb into." He uncrosses his arms for a moment, reaching out to caress his Captain's cheek. "Ori, you're working yourself to the bone. You've done more than enough. Let me take care of things now."

"You have to take care of—"

"My family. You, my little Ori, are my family."

Oren nods lightly, rubbing at his forehead lightly, closing his eyes for a moment. "I could…I could _really _go for some sleep."

"Then, by all means," he gestures to the floor in general. "Find yourselves a bed."

The Virtue Captain nods, smiling at the thought of it, and looks down to his small charge. Inca looks up at him with wide eyes, curious, wanting to be in on the secret between them. Oren smiles at him, lifting one of his hands, pressing a kiss to his palm. "Let's go get some sleep, little guy."

He watches them head off with a smile, they really did such good for each other, and he shook his head as he spied around for his next target. He was always at his work station, working away, breaking down and breaking out, always in the middle of something. He had to be encouraged to take a break more often than not and seeing as he had been away for nearly a week, it was to be expected that he would have to set things back to rights once more.

Honestly, it was like he was coming home to a bunch of fledglings.

Poor thing, she was fast asleep over her work bench, completely overspent. Her workbench was a mess, vials and jars scattered all around, ingredients spilled out everywhere. Her arms were curled around her head, spread out some around her, head laying against the wooden table top, barely seated upon the bench.

Her guardian was still going though, stirring his mixture in his cauldron, curled over top of it, hunched around it.

"Zed," he curls his fingers around his shoulders, squeezing and kneading his fingers in, the apothecary groans softly, melting under his fingers. "How long have you been working?"

"It's just been a couple of days."

"You look about ready to keel over."

The Virtue Apothecary shakes his head, as if clearing the fog that's overcome his mind, and tries to shrug his hands from his shoulders. He doesn't succeed, and he manages to find a particularly stubborn knot and works to dissolve it, Zed groans and leans into his touch.

"Your arms must be tired." The Virtue nods in agreement to his statement. "They ache."

Raphael hums behind him, working his fingers into the base of his neck, and Zed leans back into him. "When was the last time you both had a good rest?"

"I don't know…" He breaks midsentence, a yawn breaking through him, and his stirring pauses. "A couple of days."

"Let me tell you what you're going to do, Z," he reaches around him and curls his fingers around the younger angel's, pulling the stirring spoon out of his grasp, he turns him around gently, taking hold of his face in both hands, a gentle cradle. "You are going to take your young miss Ara, change the both of you into something clean and comfortable, and then you are going to find you both a nice comfortable bed to climb into, and sleep." He turns them in the direction of the little apprentice. "It looks as though she's beat you there."

Zed smiles at the sight of his sleeping charge, she was more then anything to him, she was his world and his baby girl, he adored her. "Oh, Ara," he steps forward, stumbling at first, but manages to catch himself and steady out. "Little kitten, you fell asleep." Araton is small, tiny compared to her master and guardian, so he lifts her lightly, turns her towards him, and lifts her up under the arms.

Little Araton curls around him, her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and falls straight back to sleep against his shoulder.

Raphael steps up beside him, touching a hand to his arm, and he smiles to him when he turns to look at him. "Go get yourselves changed and find a bed. Get some sleep, my Virtue." He nods at him, smiling into his kitten's shoulder, and turns, heading in the direction of the Loft. He'll be back, he's having them stay near, where he can keep an eye on them all, make sure they get the rest he so wants them to get.

The ones he goes in search for next aren't hard to find, they're far more ahead then the others are, he smiles at the sight they make, though part of him wonders if they had just collapsed in such a position or if they had consciously laid down in such a position. Either way, he won't fight it, they all need as much rest as they can get.

Akriel's fallen asleep on one of the empty beds, sprawled out on his back, peaceful as peaceful ever was. Gzels fallen asleep on top of him, using him as her mattress, sprawled out over top of him. Orion's curled around his left arm, sound asleep, curled against his side.

He smiles as the young healer curled against him mumbles in her sleep, kneeling down next to her, stroking a finger over her cheek, her nose scrunches and she nuzzles closer to the mental specialists arm. "Rest easy, little healer." Standing back to his feet once again, back at full height, he leans over for the end of the bed, where the blanket has been pushed down, and lifts it up over their sleeping forms. "Rest easy." He smiles at the little healer, then up at the young girl a top his Virtue's chest, strokes a hand down the back of her head, she mumbles softly herself, so much like her sister, and nuzzles her cheek against his chest under her and his arm creeps up, curling around her lower back. Then he stands, brushing his Virtues hair back from his eyes, Akriel smiles lightly at the soft touch and settles down into his pillow. "Rest easy, little ones."

Turning from them, he looks for his last two, they always circle around each other, they'd been close as young fledglings and grew closer as they grew older. Constantine was never far from Ephraim's side, and vise versa, Ephraim was never far from Constantine's. He had their working areas next to each other, for just that purpose, while all of his brothers could, Constantine was always best in calming Ephraim when things got too overwhelming for him.

Raphael finds him sitting on the edge of a bed, his face buried in his hands, his fingers clutching at his head. His shoulders are stiff, the muscles tense, he can see that he's wound as tight as a spring. He, himself, can feel the swirling of emotions circling around them. Fear, anger, upset, anxiety, and just a tinge of hope. It took a certain amount of his strength to block it out himself, for him to do so, he would have to focus on it completely.

Kneeling softly, he reaches out for a gentle hand, curling his fingers around the young Virtue's temple and pushes just a bit of his grace into his head. To drown out the intense feeling of the combating emotions, to calm his mind, to sooth the ache. "Eph, are you alright?"

He shakes his head, mumbling into his palms. "H—Hurts."

"Is it too much?"

Ephraim nods, peering at him from over his fingertips, eyes full of strain and pain. He smiles at him gently, pushing just a bit more of his grace into him, and he sighs lightly at the comforting feeling, the ease of the pain he feels. "It hurts, RaRa."

He smiles again, a soft smile, a comforting one. "Let me help you?"

The empath nods, he'd do anything for the relief, to ease away the pain of those around him.

His archangel smiles at him, pulling his hands back gently, he caresses his face in his hands. "Okay, I'm going to help you, let's lay on back now." He guides him back, settling him against the pillow, turning him around to lay in the bed. "Close your eyes, now." Ephraim sighs softly, looking up at him with wide hopeful eyes, willing to do anything to ease the ache. "Close your eyes, Eph."

The Virtue nods, closing his eyes lightly, feeling the bed dip as his older brother and archangel sits on the edge. He presses against his arm as he leans over him, a hand curling over his forehead, and he leans into the warm gentle touch. "It's going to make you very sleepy, alright, and I want you to let it take you over, okay, accept it with open arms. Can you do that for me?" He smiles down at him when the empath nods lightly. Curling his fingers over the sides of his face, and leans forward, pressing his lips to his forehead in a tender kiss and he lets his grace wash over the tense Virtue. The tension and the shaking of nerves calms down, and he sighs again, this time a sigh of relief, and he sinks into the pillow. His mind numbed from everything around him, feeling nothing but his own emotions and the immense sleepiness washing over his conscience.

Ephraim sighs in relief, feeling himself sink into the gentle grasp of slumber, and just as he had said he would, he lets himself be pulled into the warm comforting embrace of sleep.

Rapheal smiles down at him, when his breathing evens out, and he succumbs to the pull of slumber. Leaning down, he takes hold of the blankets, and tugs them up over the comforted sleeping empath. He'll be out for a good couple of days, and he'll watch over him carefully, though his grace should be enough at the moment.

A hand touches to his shoulder and he looks over at it, his gaze travelling up the arm to the face of the one he was going to be searching for next, this makes things so much easier.

"Hello, Costa."

"Hi, Raph." He nods to his brother in the bed. "He looks peaceful, a far cry from how he's been in the last couple of days, how did things go with capturing Castiel?"

The archangel smiles up at him. "They went according to how they were supposed to. He currently resides in the Prison pending trial. He shall face the consequences of his actions." He looks him over critically. "How long have you been up and about?"

Constantine shrugs, as though it was no big matter, despite the fact being quite the opposite. "Maybe, four, four and a half days."

"You've been awake, without a moment of rest, for nearly five days?"

"I think?" He shrugs again. "I think the factions are at it again. We've had a few of them in here with minor injuries in the last couple of days."

"They'll be of no problem." Raphael waves that notion away with a flick of his fingers. "I'll deal with them accordingly." He turns to face him more fully. "You mean to _tell _me that you've been awake for nearly a week without pause?"

"Well, there really hasn't been time," Constantine turns to look at his younger brother with a smile. "You've been busy with, well, you know, taking care of things, so we've been taking charge of things here and there just hasn't been much time for resting."

"Well", he nods firmly. "There's more than enough time now."

"I'm not even tired."

"I think I'll decide that," he stands from his place on Ephraim's bed, and places a hand on his shoulder, humming when he felt the slight swaying motion. He raises a finger. "Follow my finger." Constantine nods, focusing on his finger, and struggles to follow it as it moves. He blinks once, then twice, and shakes his head. "Follow my finger, Constantine."

"Which one?"

"What do you mean '_which one'?"_ He raises an eyebrow. "I'm only holding up one."

"I see two."

He smiles in amusement, chuckling softly, and reaches out to pat his cheek affectionately. "That's because you, my little Costa, are _exhausted_."

"Now that you mention it," the Virtue rubs at his right eye lightly. "I could go for a few moments of shut eye."

"Could you now?" The Healer rubs his thumb over his cheek. "Then, why don't you get a _'few moments' _ of rest?" His young angel looks up at him with tired eyes. "I'll even tuck you in."

"Tuck me in?" Constantine looks up at him with a particular look. "I'm not a fledgling anymore."

"Fine, I won't, if you don't want me to."

The young Virtue looked to his feet for a moment, and then back up to him, eyes shining with meek like desire. "No, I do, I do want you to tuck me in."

"I would be glad to," he guides him around, tucking him into his side. "Let's go find you a bed."

…

He taps his fingers against the oak top of his desk, he'd take care of matters in his office, this was his domain, his room of ruling. The Throne room was more so his older brother's taste, too formal for him, he wanted to deal with his unruly younger siblings in the comforting place of one's own home, not in the stuffy, stiff, stone hard Throne Room.

Bartholomew and Malachi glare at each other, so hatefully, standing at odds in the middle of his office.

Raphael feels a headache coming on.

"You are going to end this unnecessary fighting, apologize to each other, and go about your business."

At least there is one thing they can agree on, as they both turn to sneer at him.

"Apologize!" Bartholomew snarls vehemently. "I'll apologize when he admits he _stole_ from me!" He pokes the other in the chest harshly. "And then I'll _kill_ him!"

"You will do no such thing."

"_Stole _from you!" Malachi shoves him back a step, harshly, and snarls back at him. "I didn't _steal _anything from you! _You_ stole it from me!"

"You two are acting like a pair of fledglings who's taken another's toy from each other."

"I didn't steal anything from you!"

"I didn't steal anything from _you_!"

"That is _quite_ enough." They both jump when the Healer smacks a hand down harshly against his desk, having forgotten he was there as they immersed themselves back into their argument, he spares them both a heated glance. "That is quite enough, indeed." He stands from his chair slowly, rubbing down his tunic lightly as he does, and slowly crosses out from behind his desk. They turn more directly to face him as he approaches them both slowly, taking each step carefully, his brother led them all with a tightened fist and a rough demeaner.

He would not lead them like that.

Michael had forgotten who he was, the bigger picture, and had lost himself to tragedy before he was damned.

He would not make that same mistake.

He would not forget to be the _'older brother' _before he was a _'commander'_.

Michael had lost view of that.

The Healer comes to stand between them both, hands snapping out to catch hold of their collars, and yanks them forward until they stand just beside him. Their eyes wide and surprised, perhaps not used to this type of treatment, his older brother, he loved him dearly, he'd responded with a different type of manner.

If they wanted to behave like fledglings then they'd be treated as such.

"Let me make one thing _perfectly_ clear." Raphael looks between them, eyes harsh, burning with anger. "I will _not _stand for any infighting of _any _kind." He shakes them lightly, but firmly, and each curl fingers around his wrists. "You _are _going to _apologize _to each other, end this unnecessary _fighting, _and go about your _business_." His eyes stare into theirs, glowing with anger, illuminated harshly. "Or so help me, I will turn you both over my desk, completely bared, and thrash you with my staff until you can't even _think _about sitting without flinching." He looks between them once more, at their wide eyes, this was not the way his brother took care of things. "Do I make myself clear?"

Bartholomew opens his mouth but says nothing and Malachi swallows harshly. "Mi—Michael never did that."

Raphael gives him a hard look. "I'm _not _Michael."


	108. Words Will Never Hurt You

"Sab, you okay?" Osmadiel set his spear to rest on the rack next to the door, Temeluch waiting for them to make their exit so that he could lock up the doors, trade places with his relief, and get some sleep himself. He looked to the older guard with concern shining bright in his eyes. Sabaoth met his gaze, nodding silently, placing his own spear in the rack next to his, and nodded again. "Are you sure, you've been awfully quiet."

"I'm alright," he smiles at the younger guard. "Sorry to have worried you." He scratched at his head lightly as he guided Sorath around with a hand on the small of his back, stepping out of the door, they follow after him languidly, it's been a hard, trying day. "I've just got some things on my mind."

Rahab jumped forward, curling around his right arm, looking up at him with wide worried eyes. "Is it about what _he _said?"

"No," he shakes his head, quick to assure her worrying, curling his arm around to press her hands to his side. "I've been here long enough to know not to take anything he says to heart."

"It was still hurtful."

He reaches up with his free hand, patting her cheek lightly. "Don't worry your pretty little self over it, I'm really alright."

"Still," she leans up on her toes and kisses his cheek lightly. "You should go see Nis."

Sorath turned to them in question, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, looking between Sabaoth and Rahab. "Why would you go to Nisroc?"

The other guard smiles at him and his confusion, still so new to their group, but learning every day. "Because, no one knows Sab like he does!"

He smiled, ducking his head lightly, taking the steps down to the Axis slowly, his free hand back to the small of Sorath's back, and Rahab hanging off his other arm, Osmadiel brought up the other end, nodding in agreement to their sisters advice. Bringing up the rear, Aeshma and Temeluch were having their own conversation, a quiet conversation that melded with theirs. Sabaoth fell silent after that, listening to Teme call out to Sora, asking him about how his Lego collection was coming along, and the younger guard excitedly share his update, he'd started amassing a collection of Lego creations.

He was very proud of his creations.

The older guard wasn't lying when he said he had a lot on his mind, his thoughts were swirling, despite his assurances in the opposite, the exiled scribe had managed to get under his skin. Nothing too specific, there were no flaws that he went after, no secrets he was keeping, his fledglinghood had been a good one, there was nothing to pick at and exploit. His insults had just managed to get to him that day, get under his skin, and it ruined his mood.

The training field was empty as they made their way across it, training having ended for the day as soon as the sun had began to set.

He stopped at the stairs that lead to the Pavilion above them, their rooms just behind the stairs, to the side, bringing them to a stop with him. Rahab leaned up again, kissing his cheek lightly, and smiled at him brightly. "Go see Nis, he'll help you." He leans forward, to the side, to kiss her on the cheek in return. "I'll be alright." Osmadiel pat his arm lightly as he passed him, walking with Rahab down the hall towards their rooms, continuing their conversation along with them. Temeluch and Aeshma squeezed his shoulders as they passed by on either side, heading for their own rooms, and he looks down to the younger guard at his side. Sorath looks up at him with wide curious eyes and he smiles to him, rubbing a soothing circle against the small of him back, leaning down slightly to brush his chin against his younger brothers forehead lightly.

"I'll come to your room later tonight, we can work on your new creation together, there's something I have to do at the moment."

Sorath nodded. "Okay. I'll wait for you so I don't get too far ahead."

He smiles down at him. "Thank you, little brother, I'll come by in a bit." He guides him forward softly, Sorath smiles at him and steps forward, making his way down the hall for his room.

Sighing, he looks up the stairs, no shadows dance across the hall, leading him to believe that the Lounge is empty. Looking down to his feet, he takes the first step, one at a time, slowly making his way up the stairs to the Pavilion above. Just as he had suspected, the Lounge was indeed empty, though the hall was alive with noise. They were all in their rooms, doing what there was to do in the privacy of one's room, and he crossed the threshold of the Lounge, running his fingers over the wooden table they ate at, and stopped at the entrance to the hall.

Sighing, again, he stepped forward, making his way quietly down the hall. The door that was his destination was sitting ajar, he leaned to the side as he approached, peering into the room. The occupant was relaxing back against the pillows on his bed, reading a book quietly to himself, one of his feet, bare and crossed at the ankle, was shaking lightly as he sat there comfortably.

He hated to disturb his peace, he truly did, but Tus was off somewhere, and there was no one else for him to go to but this one.

So, sighing, once again, he raised his hand, paused before the wooden door, and rapped his knuckle against it.

The foot at the end of the bed stopped shaking, a page rustled as it was turned, the book thumping closed softly as it's set aside, the bed creaks as he moves. "Enter." He presses his fingers against the wooden door at the allowance of his entrance, pushes it open gently, revealing himself to the rooms occupant.

Nisroc smiles to him in greeting. "Sabaoth, what brings you here?"

"I wanted to see you."

The Captain smiles at him again, standing from the edge of his bed, reaching out to caress his cheek. "What's wrong, Saba?"

"Nothing is the matter, can't I just come to see you."

"Sure," he rubs his cheek with a gentle thumb. "I'd believe that, if you weren't looking up at my forehead." He tilts his head back, their eyes officially meeting, and Saba feels bad for lying. "You could never lie to me, Sabaoth, I know your tell." He leans forward slightly. "So, let's try again."

He manages to avert his eyes despite his position. "Today was…It was a _rough _day."

"I can imagine." The Power nods lightly, scratching his cheek tenderly. "I don't know how you get by spending everyday with that cretin and not lose your mind."

"I'm a very composed individual."

"I know you are," Nisroc rubs his cheek lightly. "I raised you."

Sabaoth sighs deeply, he's been doing that a lot recently. "I almost lost my composure today."

"And, you came to me for help?"

"You know me the best."

"I do." He smiles slightly. "No one knows you quite like I know you." He pats his cheek, pulling his hand back. "What can I do to help?"

"I am on the verge of punching someone and I need your help to change that."

"I see," he nods lightly, uncrossing his arms, he rubs his hands together. "I can most certainly help you with that." His fingers curl around his hips lightly. "Let's simmer that anger in your belly out." His hand shoots out suddenly, fingers curling around the collar of his tunic, and he tugs him forward. "C'mere Saba." Sabaoth yelps as he's tugged forward, stumbling forward, looking down as arms encircle around his waist securely. "Let your big brother help you."

The guard shrieks lightly, pressing his hands to the Power's front, fingers curling into his tunic, when a bearded face buries itself into the side of his neck. He scrunches up under instinct, an involuntary reaction, laughing a light tinkling laugh that echoes around the room. His old guardian growls softly, shaking his head, and he shrieks again, his laughter picking up at the itchy feeling against his neck.

The arms around his lower back tighten around him, he feels like a fledgling again when the Power leans back and manages to lift him from his feet, shaking his head again, smiling into his neck when he shrieks again.

His laughter explodes from him when fingers dig into his lower sides, and he squirms, clutching at his older brother's tunic tightly. They move backwards, well, he moves backwards, Nisroc steps forward, his knees hit the edge of the bed. He knows that the Captain kneels on the bed, he rubs against his thigh as he's set down, fingers race up and down his sides and he shrieks again, arching his back under his old guardian. Nisroc is a warm weight that settles over his lower half, keeping his legs in place, wiggling fingers up and down his sides.

"Let's try a little to the right." He switches one hand over, ten fingers digging into his right side, he squeals brightly, great peals of laughter exploding from him at the torture to his side. "And, of course, we can't forget that sweet spot that is your ribs, can we?" Ten fingers wiggle up the right side of his rib cage, climbing up and down, fingers at his lower ribs and fingers at his higher ribs and he squeals in laughter again. "And then a little to the left." Ten fingers jump over to his left side, he squeals again, turning upwards as much as he can.

He chuckles at him, pulling away from his left side, and fold over his belly. "Hello, my little Saba."

"Hihi!"

Nisroc smiles down at him. "How's that fire in your belly doing?"

"Ihit's slowly sihimmering down!"

"Well, then," he slowly tugs his tunic up to reveal his toned belly. "Let's blow it out."

Sabaoth only has time for his eyes to widen, his plea just making it to his lips, when the Power leans forward, takes a deep breath, and buries his face into his belly. The guard howls with laughter, throwing his head back, pushing weakly at his old guardians shoulders, sucking in his belly as best as he can when he takes another deep breath, finds a new spot, and blows. He arches his back, throwing his head back, his hands move up from pushing at the Captain's shoulders to pushing at his head.

"Nis! NIS!"

He pauses, looking up at him, resting his chin lightly on his quivering belly. "Yes, little guy?"

"Noho mohore! No more!"

"No more?" He rubs his chin into his belly and the guard giggles, high pitched, contagious, and he smiles at the sound of them. "I'm merely trying to blow that fire out."

"It's out! It's ohout!"

"I don't know," he wiggles his fingers into his lower belly, and he shrieks lightly. "Is it?"

"Yehes!"

"One more, though, for old times sake?" He nods once. "One more."

Sabaoth's eyes widen at that remark, and he braces himself against his old guardian, anything to keep him away. He always makes the last one the worst one, the one that makes the most lasting impression, that last one is always the worst one.

"Nohoho!"

"One more." He nods again, taking a deep breath, a deeper breath then before and shakes his head as he buries himself deep into his belly, then he blows, long and hard. He shakes his head and rubs his beard in, takes more deep breaths as he moves around the shaking belly surface, and Sabaoth, he loses it. He screams with laughter, anger and frustration completely forgotten, the words Metatron had taunted him with drowned in the echo of his laughter, the hurt and upset faded away in the beard rubbing against his belly and the small raspberries being blown over every inch. He feels like a fledgling again, his mentor and guardian torturing him, because he was rather torturous, there are very few who can make him feel like a fledgling, his old guardian can manage it with little to no trouble.

Nis always knows how to make him feel better.

"NIS! Nis! Noho mohohore! No more!"

"One more?"

He shakes his head frantically, curling his arms around the Power's neck, hugging himself close. "NO! No!"

Nisroc chuckles, presses a kiss to his belly, and turns them over. He bends one of his legs up, his little guard situated between his legs, laying comfortingly against his stomach. The Power smiles down at him. "Feel better?" Stroking his fingers through his hair, Sabaoth nods, trying to catch his breath. "I feel very much better."

"What are you doing tonight?"

He nods, nuzzling his cheek against the Captain's stomach. "I'm going to help Sora with some of his Lego creations."

"That sounds like a fun time, mind if I join you?"

Sabaoth smiles. "Not at all."


	109. Meeting The Replacement

It was well after dusk that worry set in, sitting at the top of the ladder that led up to their treehouse, kicking her legs idly, she peered out into the darkly growing shadow of the tree line. The lights around their treehouse shined like stars in the clearing, petting her canine companions head lightly as she waited for him to come back home again. They were going to grill some fish for dinner, salmon, nice this time of year, and some fresh vegetables. She would

much prefer the salmon over the vegetables, those were still gross, but Josh also knew how to make a mean pie, so she'd eat the vegetables she was supposed to in order to get a piece of his pie.

But the sun was starting to set, and if he was going to make his pie then he'd have to start soon, they would have to cook dinner soon, if they were going to eat dinner tonight.

"Dahlia, I don't think he's coming back."

Her shepherd friend sits up, barking softly, and climbs to her feet. She barks again, nudging at her with her nose, as if to tell her to get up and go look for him. She was only excited about it because of her portion of salmon she was supposed to get. Laughing softly, the young Gardener jumped up, hopping down from her place on their porch, and turned to look back up at her furred friend. "I'll go find him so he can get dinner started."

…

Nisroc and Michael had been the ones to tell her.

She had run all the way here.

Her chest heavy for a breath, she came to a stop in the doorway to the Infirmary, eyes surfing through the occupants in their beds as she sought him out. The Infirmary was quiet, the patients having been sent to sleep by their keepers, the healers making their way through the beds as they kept tabs on them.

"I'm sorry, but visiting hours are passed, you can come back in the morning though."

She ignores the young healer as she tries to guide her away, and when she manages to get her back a step, she shoves her back harshly. "I need to find Josh, I need to make sure he's okay, and I need _you _to get out of my _face_!"

"You're here for Josh?" The healer bounces back from being shoved rather quickly. "Are you his friend? I am one of his friends too. I'm Ara—"

"I'm his _charge_."

Araton tilts her head. "I didn't know he had a charge."

"Yea, they don't like talking about their mistakes." She finds who she is looking for and shoves passed the stunned healer. Running across the threshold of the Infirmary, her eyes wide, she presses a hand to her mouth as she falls to her knees next to his bed. "Josh! _Josh!_" She eyes the braces curled around his back and legs, to keep him straight, patting his cheek desperately as she tries to rouse him, get him to open his eyes. So she knows he's still alive. "Josh!" Panic sets in when he doesn't so much as twitch, a sob catching in her throat, she pats his cheek a bit harder. "_Josh!"_

"I'm sorry, but you really need to leave, he's really not well and should rest, and vi—" Araton stumbles back at the blow, the girl she'd stood behind jumped up, tears gathered in her blazing eyes, and she reeled her fist back and punched her as hard as she could in the cheek. "Get away from me, _Replacement_!" She raises her fists again and Araton takes a step back. "Get _away _from us! We _don't _need _your _help!"

"Ara!"

"Eia!"

Both girls turn at the call of their name, Araton holding a hand to her split cheek, Eiael with her shaking fists raised. Zed eyes the gardener as he approaches cautiously, trying to stave off her wild temper, and tugs Araton closer to him, pulling her hand away gently to examine her cheek. Araton turns slightly to watch the young gardener, her chest heaving slightly, tears finally spilling from her eyes, she watches with shaking fists as the other Virtue approaches her. Akriel comes to a halt just a pace before her, hands raised is a peaceful gesture, and he stops a foot away from the irate young gardener. "Eia, it's okay, it's just me. Remember me, I made you that eyesore of a flower, it's Ak, it's okay."

Eiael inhales a shaky breath, nodding slightly, she points down to the elder Gardener with a shaking finger. "Ak, Josh! _Josh_!"

He shakes his hands lightly, stepping closer, and she curls away from him, stepping closer to her guardian's bed. "I know, Eia, I know. I'm not going to lie to you, he is very hurt, very, very hurt. But we're taking care of him. He'll be okay."

"He won't wake up!"

"I know that too, I know," he curls his fingers around her hands and lowers her fists gently. "We gave him a strong sleeping drought so he could sleep. He's just sleeping. I promise."

Eiael sniffles deeply, and nods, jumping forward into her older brother. Akriel curls his arms around her without a second thought, cradling the back of her head lightly as she buries her face in his chest and her shoulder's heave with soft sobs. He sighs deeply, resting his chin on her curls, and turns to look at his brother and his little apprentice. "Are you okay Araton?"

The young apothecary in training nods, leaning against Zed lightly, frowning lightly at the gardener he holds in his arms. "I didn't know that there was another gardener." Akriel frowns lightly, his eyes flitting up to his brothers, and Zed nods lightly, squeezing his young charge against his side gently. "Come, Ara, I'll patch your cheek up."

Akriel waits until they're out of hearing range, and pulls her back slightly, caressing her cheeks and wiping tears away with his thumbs. "Feeling better?" She sniffles and nods, reaching up to curl her fingers around his wrists, looking back to her guardian again. Akriel hums, turning her head slightly, until their eyes reunited. "Look at me, okay." She nods, and he rubs his thumbs over her cheeks again. "He's going to be fine. It's going to be a long road ahead of him. But he's going to be just fine. He's only sleeping."

"Okay." She nods against his hands. "Okay."

"He's a tough angel. He has to be to keep up with you." She smiles lightly and he smiles at the sight of her smile. "He would never leave you behind. So, don't even think that he would."

"Okay."

"Good girl, now take a deep breath." She inhales deeply and waits for him to tell her to let it go. "And, let it go." He smiles down at her gently. "Let's get you changed into something clean and we'll make you up a bed next to him, alright?" Eiael nods. "Okay, Ak."

He pulls her forward, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Did you eat supper?"

She shakes her head lightly. "No. Josh was going to bake Salmon for supper. But—" Her eyes flit back down to him. "But—"

"Hey, hey," he pulls her attention back around. "It's okay, we'll get you something to eat. And, then we'll get you to bed."

"Okay, Ak." He smiles down at her again and pulls her back into her arms, she sniffles, nuzzling against his chest. Akriel strokes his hand down the back of her head, smoothing her curls down, and looks over her head to a passing healer. "Sampson," the young healer looks up at the call of his name. "Can you make up the bed next to this one?" He nods, turning off to do as he was told, and the Virtue looks down at the young gardener resting against him. "Come on, baby girl, lets get you changed and something in that belly."

She nods, letting him guide her away from Joshua's bed, across the threshold of the Infirmary, to the cabinets they keep the clean trousers and tunics in for their patients. He raises his arms slightly, and she ducks further into his side, to open the cabinet, reaching in for a tunic and a pair of trousers. He tucks them under his other arm, and guides them around for the cabinet next to it, reaching in for a clean towel. Then, they make their way to the entrance of the washroom, and he turns her around to look at him. "You go get cleaned up," he brushes his finger down the bridge of her nose and she smiles slightly. "Your bed will be ready when you're done." Passing her the towel and clean clothing, he rubs her cheek lightly, and she leans into his hand. "I'm going to go find you something to eat for supper, alright?"

Eiael nods, and he pulls her close to kiss her forehead again, watching her turn into the washroom.

Making his way up to the Loft swiftly, Akriel hummed to himself, deep in thought, as he headed for the counter of their cooking area. There's still a few pieces of chicken left, a couple drumsticks, and a bit of potatoes in the bowl, and he makes up a plate for their baby sister quickly, he wants to be there when she finishes up in the washroom.

"Eia punched Araton?" He looks up at the voice of his brother, Oren stands there, arms crossed tightly, a frown etched on his features. Akriel spares him a glance and pours some juice from a jug in a tall glass. "She was overwhelmed."

"That's no excuse, Akriel." His Captain's tone is firm. "It was unprovoked."

He heaves a sigh, he doesn't have time for this, but he sets his things down and turns to face the older Virtue anyway. "Then by all means, if you think it needs to be done, go ahead, go down and scold her for it. She already _hates _you. If you think getting her back will be any easier voicing your distaste on her actions, then by all means, go ahead and do it." He steps forward, poking him in the chest harshly. "I don't agree with what she did, but I can see why, and if you'd open your eyes you would too."

"Araton is—"

"_Her._ Araton is _her_." Akriel pokes him again as if to emphasize his point. "Did it _ever _occur to you how _Eia_ sees her. She's her _replacement_. She's _her_. _You_ turned _your_ back on Eia for the _same _thing Araton is learning. _How _do you think she'd react to seeing her? _You _praise Araton for her successes, and she deserves the praise, she's a bright girl. _But_ you denounced Eia for the _same exact thing_."

He shakes his head, and turns back for his plate and glass, Eiael should be almost done by this point.

Oren's eyes are wide when he turns back around, stunned by the outburst, and part of him is glad he is. They all messed up, some more then others, and they have to admit and realize their grave mistake.

"Oren, Josh is all she has left. She doesn't trust any of us anymore. Josh is all she has now." He nods downwards. "And, right now, he's lying in a bed, drugged to the gills, and paralyzed from the waist down, for what we hope is a temporary amount of time. For Eia, Josh is her world, and its crumbling around her all over again." He turns, stepping away from him, and calls over his shoulder. "We're all just lucky she hasn't reached her breaking point yet."

She's waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, wringing her fingers together, and he smiles at her as he approaches, holding his arm out for her to take hold of. Her slender fingers curl around his upper arm, and he leads them forward, to the bed that's been made up just left of Joshua. "You climb in bed and I'll give you your supper." She nods, letting go of his arm, and slowly climbs under the blankets on her bed, sitting up against the pillow. He sets the glass of juice on the bedside table and passes her the plate of chicken and potatoes, she eats slowly, her eyes flitting over to the unconscious Gardener next to her. He leans over, caressing her cheek lightly, and she looks up at him as she takes a bite of chicken. "I've got to check in on a few of my patients, you eat up, and I'll be back to tuck you in, alright?"

Eiael nods, taking another bite of chicken, and her eyes leave him for the only brother she truly lets close to her heart now.

Akriel sighs as he turns away from her for a few minutes.

She finishes her meal before he comes back, and sets the empty plate on the bedside table, her mind does wander to her canine friend, Dahlia will find her by morning. She settles back against her pillows, blinking tears back, and a warm hand presses to her cheek as a gentle thumb rubs away the tear that escaped. She looks up, and Akriel smiles down to her, rubbing her cheek lightly. "I promise he'll be okay."

"You promise, Ak?"

"Cross my heart."

He tucks the blankets up under her chin and taps her nose with his finger, she gives him a small smile for it, and he leans over to kiss her forehead. "You get some sleep. We'll take good care of you both." He cradles her cheek, hovering just above her, rubbing his nose against hers, and she smiles again. "You can stay as long as you need to."

"Even if its however long it takes for him to get better?"

"Well, knowing Joshua, he'll be right cross with you when he does get well again if he comes to find his Garden in disarray, so I'd continue to tend to your chores there." He brushes their noses together again. "But after that you can come back."

Eiael smiles up at him. "I love you, Ak."

"I love you too, baby bee." The mental specialist leans over and kisses her cheek lightly. "Very much." He brushes a finger over her chin lightly and sits back up, tucking her in gently. "You get some sleep. I'll be making my rounds and I'll come check on you in a bit, if you need me, you just call, okay?"

She cuddles down against her pillow, on her side, facing the older Gardener. "Okay, Ak."

Eiael falls asleep not long after he leaves, staring at her unconscious big brother, her eyes slowly flutter closed.

She scrunches her nose up, something's brushing over it, and her eyes flutter open gently. She peers around for whoever it could be, spying Akriel talking to Ephraim at the other end of the room, negating him from the list of possible suspects.

"…Eia…." Her eyes flit back to the front of her, into the achingly familiar green eyes of her guardian, and her throat tightens with tears as he stares back at her, his arm outstretched, his hand resting lightly on the edge of her bed. Someone's pushed them closer together, she thinks it may have been Akriel, while she was sleeping, they're close enough that it was Joshua stroking his finger down the bridge of her nose. "Are you alright?"

If it hurts him to do so he never expresses it.

"Josh…Josh I was so worried…I thought…I thought…"

"It's okay, Eia, I'll be okay." His thumb is rough, from working all the long days in the Garden, but gentle, when it rubs away an escaped tear. "No tears, buttercup, everything's okay."

"I can't…I can't help it."

"Sshhh, go back to sleep, baby girl."

"I don't…I don't want to leave you alone…What if….What if…."

He shakes his head slightly, poking her nose lightly, and reaches for her hand with his. "I'm not going anywhere, baby girl. I'll be here when you wake up."

She shakes her head this time, stubbornly fighting off the reaching hands of sleep, clutching his hand tightly.

The older Gardener smiles at her. _"Dry those tears from your eyes." _His voice is like the wind dancing through the trees in the Garden. Soft and comforting. It's like home. _"And everything will be alright." _His thumb rubs over her knuckles and she licks her lips, hugging his hand to her chest. _"You know the rainbows just in sight." _She feels herself settle down under the soothing hum of his lullaby. _"Dust your wings off as you rise." _She sees him smile lightly as her eyes begin to flutter. _"If your heart feels overwhelmed, just know you're never by yourself." _She closes her eyes. _"Put your hands in mine," _he squeezes her fingers lightly.

_"Hold your head up high. And together we'll rise."_


	110. The Peanut Gallery Can Go To Bed

"No. Absolutely not. I won't allow it."

Michael gave a hum of amusement as he watched the Healer turn and give the Grigori a look.

"What? Won't allow _what_?"

Azazel crossed his arms and shook his head, sticking by his position on this topic, he did not approve of this decision and he intended to make that ever clear. Raphael would not be going to the frontline not while he was there.

"He's not going."

"Azazel it's my job."

"Absolutely not. Too dangerous."

Raphael gave a sound of indignant offense leaning forward on his staff. Azazel gives him a look that clearly warns against arguing against him on this but his warning goes unheeded.

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself Azazel. I will be fine."

The Grigori shook his head, "No I am not allowing it."

"Who are _you_ to tell _me_ what I may or not do?" The Healer turns to look at him with raised eyebrows. "If anything, that role in this relationship falls on my shoulders, what, with me being your elder obviously."

Azazel crosses his arms, his cheeks heating up, and he ducks inwards as he mumbles to himself, kicking at the floor of the Viceroy's office lightly. The two Archangels exchange amused glances, the Healer turning to face him more directly, he leans forward against his staff, tapping his cheek lightly with a finger. "What was that?"

Shaking his head stubbornly, he turns away from him, clearing understanding in that moment that there was nothing his objections would do, not against the willpower and word of an Archangel.

"Come now, Zaz, I can barely get to you quiet down on a normal day." The confident Grigori jolted when a finger pokes him firmly in the belly, hands flying down to cover it, glaring up at the smiling archangel. "What did you say?"

"I don't…We've been apart for centuries…." He rubs at his shoulder sheepishly. "I don't want you to go, RaRa."

"Oh, my little sparrow." He reaches forward, caressing his cheek lightly, smiling at him comfortingly. "I'm not _leaving_ you." He pats his cheek lightly. "I'll only be gone for a day, maybe two, I'm not going to fight with them, I am going to heal them so they can continue their fight."

"And you'll come back when you're done."

"You'll be the first one I'll come for." Raphael pulls his hand back, switching his staff to his newly freed hand, and rests his other on top of his head. "Why don't you wait for me in my room. The fire should burn on to keep you warm. Until I return, you'll be wrapped up in my blanket, it's like I'm there with you."

Azazel nods lightly, seeming to think it was a good compromise, and finally looks back up at him. "Okay, thanks RaRa. Be safe, okay, don't get hurt."

"I won't even get a scratch." He pats his cheek and turns him slightly. "Go to bed, it's getting late."

"Okay, RaRa." He nods, smiling slightly, and turns from them. Michael waits until he closes the door behind him before he turns to look at his younger brother, his eyes wide and eyebrows raised, arms crossed loosely. "Brother, how are your charges still so devoted to you, even after all this time?"

"Because they'll always be my little ones." His brother hums in amusement. "No matter how old they get."

"So, you coddle them."

"Heaven's no, I'm not a coddler, I just treat them right."

Michael gives him a look. "You're having him wait in your room for you."

"Merely on the basis of the fact that I know he'll follow if I don't." The Healer shrugs lightly. "It'll save me the necessity of having to punish him for it."

"Just admit it, you treat them as your fledglings still."

"I do not. I don't have to defend myself to you. You're just jealous."

"I think it's rather cute." He shrugs pushing himself away from his desk and crosses to sit in the chair behind it. "They still look up to you as a parental figure." He smirks at the lack of defense from his younger brother and nods towards the door. "You shouldn't keep him waiting for too long, the sooner you go, the sooner you get back."

"I dislike you sometimes."

"Oh, baby brother, I always _adore _you."


	111. Forgiving Doesn't Mean Forgetting

"I heard you punched young Ara." He hums when he gains no response to his call, and flexes his fingers slightly. "Eiael." She looks up at him, her soft green eyes looking into his for a moment, and not being able to stand the sternness that shines in them, even in this position, she looks back down, tracing little symbols over his palm. "She got in my way." He curls his fingers down over hers, and she looks back up at him at the action, he squeezes her fingers lightly. "That's not a valid reason to punch someone, Eiael, I raised you better than that."

The younger gardener nods lightly, leaning over, pressing her cheek to his palm. His fingers curl around her cheek lightly, the tips of his fingers rubbing the smooth skin softly, waiting for her to speak her piece. "I just….I just _hate _her."

"Hate is a powerful word, ladybug." He taps her cheek with a finger. "It doesn't suit you in any manner." He pokes her nose with his thumb, and she looks back up at him, his green eyes are vivid, aware of his surroundings, watching her intently as he lays beside her. "Little Araton had nothing to do with what happened between us all, she is as much a victim in this as you are, perhaps in a different manner, but all the same. Don't hate her for something she has no control over."

"But—But—_She's _my replacement! They replaced me with her!"

"Now, I don't think that's true, not completely." Joshua rubs his thumb over her lips lightly. "She is most certainly the evidence of their guilt, there was no other reason Zed sought her out as his apprentice as quickly as he had, but she's most certainly not your _'replacement'_."

Eia licks her lips, looking down to his chin, away from his eyes, his imploring all knowing eyes. "I see the way they _treat _her. The way they smile at her and the way they talk to her. They used to do all that stuff to _me_, they used to smile at _me _like that, and now they only do it to _her_."

"That's not true, I know for a fact that Akriel tucked you into bed last night, he stayed until you fell asleep, did he not?" She nods slightly, hesitantly, averting her eyes even more. "You can't expect them to treat you like you wish them to if you keep them out of your heart, Eia, they can try as hard as they might, but you'll get nowhere if you don't let them in."

"I see the way they hug her, they kiss her on the head, the way Zed carries her upstairs to bed when she falls asleep." The young gardener licks her lips again. "They used to do all that stuff with _me_."

"They can't hug you as long as you keep them at arm's length. They're not going to move until you tell them to." He presses his thumb to her lips when she makes to speak, shaking his head lightly, he's not done. "Forgiving doesn't mean forgetting, Eiael, it means moving on and growing from it. Forgiving doesn't mean that they weren't wrong, it doesn't mean that you were wrong, it means coming to peace. Hating them won't change what happened, it won't turn back time to prevent it from happening, it'll only bring you down, it'll only continue to eat at _you_. Forgiveness is not just for them, it's for _you, _it's letting go, not letting the wrong dictate your life any longer." She stares at him and he smiles softly. "I won't push you into doing something you don't want to, but, in my opinion, I think it's time you let them in again." He pats his fingers against her cheek lightly. "If you want that hug, you're going to have to go get it, they won't know if you don't ask for it."

"What it…What if they don't want to?"

"I think you'd be surprised."

He smiles at the way she looks over his head. "If you want that hug," and slowly tugs his hand out from under her cheek. "Then, go get it." The older Gardener rests his hand on his bed, just beside his face, and closes his eyes softly. "I'll be here."

Eiael nods softly, looking down at his closed eyes, and turns, pushing herself over to the edge of the bed. Her bare feet press to the cool floor under them, and she turns to watch him move, chopping at the ingredients he needs for his new batch of potions.

He always gave the best hugs.

Sighing deeply, inhaling, and then releasing after a long moment, she stands from her bed. Padding softly across the threshold of the Infirmary, from their beds to his workstation, she eyes the apprentice as she crosses behind her silently, coming to stand beside his. Folding in on herself, she hunches her shoulders, and rubs at her arm nervously. He hasn't looked up, perhaps too engrossed in his work to notice her approach, she can feel the eyes of the other girl on the back of her head.

"Zed?" Her voice is small, shaky, as she calls out to him.

"Hmm?" His chopping comes to a pause as he looks over his arm at the call of his name. His eyes widen slightly. "Eia?" He sets the knife down, rubbing his hands on a towel as he turns slightly, fingers curling around the edge of his work station. "What can I do for you?"

"Can you…." She hunches slightly, raising her shoulders around her ears for a moment, rubbing at her arm, she looks up to meet his gaze. "Can you hug me?"

They stare at each other a moment, and he nods, opening his arms for her, and she takes a small step forward, and then another, and then she's pressing against him. His arms are curling around her tightly, pulling her close to him, and she presses her ear to his chest firmly, listening to his heart beat under her. He curls a hand, large and warm, around the other side of her head, over her other ear, and suddenly all the noise of the Infirmary is drowned into silence. Nothing but the _thump, thump, thump _of his heart under her ear. She feels him shift, as he leans down, and he presses a kiss to her head. She only smiles and clutches to the back of his tunic tighter. The Apothecary lifts her lightly, her delicate bare feet coming to curl over his boots as he sets her to stand on his feet, and he turns them around without uncurling his arms from around her.

The arm curled around her waist moves, uncurling from around her for a moment, she feels him shift again as he leans forward slightly, and then he's uncurling from around her, his fingers curling under her arms, around her middle, and he's lifting her up off his feet to sit on the edge of his work bench.

Her brother is so tall, his work bench is so tall, her feet dangle over the edge.

Still, Eiael clutches at the sleeves of his tunic as he sets her down on the edge of his work bench, tugging on his sleeves when he's got her situated, and he steps forward, between her dangling legs, and curls his arms around her again. She sniffles softly, curling her arms around his neck as she buries her face into his shoulder, and he strokes her curls lightly.

She rubs her nose on his shoulder. "I forgive you, big brother." He holds her tighter, his arms curling around her tighter, and he buries his face into her neck, into her shoulder, and his shoulders begin to shake softly. It takes her a moment to realize what it is, to realize that he's crying, and she hugs him tighter in return. The little gardener feels the slight beard on his chin rub against her ear softly. "I'm so sorry Eia. So, _so _sorry. I love you so much."

"You missed me?" She presses her cheek against the curve of his neck.

"With _every_ fiber of my being. I regretted my decisions the moment I committed them. But then it was too late to take them back."

"I missed you too, Z." She rubs her cheek against his lightly, and presses her nose to the side of his neck, holding on tighter. "Never let me go again."

"Never. _Never_."

She pulls away first, his hands come up to cradle her head, fingers curling behind her head, pulling her close to press their foreheads together. They peer into each other's eyes quietly, and then he moves, leaning forward to kiss the tip of her nose. "They'll have to pry you from my cold, dead hands."

"You didn't replace me, Z?"

"I could never," he presses their foreheads together a bit firmer, his fingers curling a tad tighter around the back of her head and releases the pressure after a moment. "I may have taken a charge, and I love her _dearly_, but you _own_ my heart, Eia, you always have." She smiles when he kisses her nose again, leaning over to press his cheek to hers, pressing a kiss to her cheek lightly. "You'll always be my little grasshopper."

She kicks her feet lightly as he pulls back, brushing against her leg as he moves to her side slightly, pulling his ingredients and cutting board back in front of him. He snatches one of her feet up though when it kicks up again and taps her toes. "Where are your shoes?" She giggles when he wiggles his fingers over her sole and yanks her foot free. "I left them at the Treehouse. I like being barefoot." He chuckles and mimes as though he's going to reach for her foot again. "It certainly makes it easier to torment your little feet. I'm sure those toes are still just as ticklish as they had been all that time ago." He pokes her nose with his free hand as he picks his knife back up in the other. "We'll have to test that theory later, I'm sure Ak would be happy to help us, what do you say?"

Zed smiles when she giggles again and crosses her ankles tightly. "Do you know what I'm making?"

She eyes the ingredients critically and nods after a brief pause.

"Do you want to help me finish it?"

He smiles wider when she nods again.


	112. Flower Child's Shenanigans

She flexed her fingers over the blooming plant and watched as it slowly wilted.

She flexed her fingers over it again and watched as it straightened back up.

"Could you please not continue killing and reviving my plant, I'd be much appreciated." Two large hands curled around the pot, situated between her legs, and pulled it away from her, setting it down on the table beside her, she reached out to hover her hand over it and one of the large hands smacked hers away lightly. She smiled and pulled her hand back. "No, bad girl, no."

Akriel had asked her to come stay with Zed when him and Constantine had come by, interrupting the quiet conversation between the two Gardeners, setting a basin of warm water on the table next to them and placed the sponges and soap they had beside it. It was time to give him his bath, change his clothes, and readjust the braces around his broken frame. She had nodded to the mental specialists soft request, leaning forward to kiss her guardians nose lightly, Joshua curled both of his hands around her cheeks, smooshing them slightly, and kissed her on the nose in return. She'd scurried off after that, darting to the apothecary's work station, him only pausing to catch her around the middle and lifting her up to sit on his table, as the other two Virtues silently pulled the curtains around the older Gardener.

Zed steps in before her, leaning forward, between her legs, and she smiled. "Come on, you little koala, I need to restock and I'm not leaving you here to torment my plant some more." Eiael curls her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and he straightens with her curled around his front, and his arms curl under her to keep her in place as he turns away from his workstation. No one comments on the two of them weaving through the healers and around the beds to the back of the Infirmary, where the entrance to their small garden is in the back, where he knows he can get most of his ingredients.

He feels her shift as they step out into the atrium, and he sets her down on her feet, smiling when she wiggles her bare toes in the soft grass, stepping away from his side to look over one of the few oak trees that's growing in his small private garden. She smiles up at it, reaching up to stroke her fingertips over the top of a leaf, and he comes to stand at her side. "How is it doing, baby koala?"

"It's fine." She smiles at the feeling of the leaf and reaches for another. "Happy."

"That's because it knows you're here." The little gardener laughs, kicking out softly, when he curls his fingers around her waist and lifts her from her feet, spinning them in the direction of his herb patch. "Over here, flower child." They walk side by side, her fingers curled around the belt around his waist and his fingers curled over her other shoulder, over to the patch of vibrant greens and various colors.

He kneels first, tugging her down with him, and reaches out to pick what he needs. "Got the basket?"

She nods, picking up from beside her, and sets it between them. Zed nods in appreciation, setting his handful of herbs in the small whicker basket, he smiles when he sees her reach out from the corner of his eye, and reaches out quick, catching her hand before it can touch anything. "Don't you dare."

"I wasn't going to do anything!"

"I _know _you weren't." He pushes her hand back. "You keep your hands to yourself, flower child."

"Yessir." He chuckles lightly, letting go of her hand in favor of poking her in the side, she yelps softly and falls to the side. "Brat."

The little gardener bounces back quickly though, plowing into his side hard enough to send them tumbling over to the side, the baskets knocked over, spilling the contents on the grass underneath them. He grunts as he lands on his back, having turned mid fall, and she tumbles over his chest, laughing brightly at having caught him off guard.

Zed glares at her, it's a playful glare, there's no heat behind it, as he curls his arms around her lower back. She glares right back, unphased at the playful heat thrown her way, and leans forward to kiss his nose lightly. "Hi!"

He tries to maintain his stony expression, but the smile that tugs at his lips breaks it, and she knows this. "You're a brat, you know that?"

"You love me!" Eia sings playfully. "You love me lots!"

The Virtue huffs, leaning forward to kiss her nose in return, falling back to the grass underneath him after he accomplishes his self-assigned mission. "You're _lucky _I love you as much as I do." He curls his right hand around the back of her head, and she yelps as he spins them over, giggling as she peers up into his eyes, as he presses his forehead against hers. "Because, you're more trouble then you're worth sometimes."

"You wouldn't want me any other way." She curls her arms around his neck. "You'd get bored."

"That's true." He brushes their noses together, pulling her up when he climbs to rest on his knees, curling his arms around her waist as he slowly climbs to his feet, she dangles in his hold, kicking her feet lightly. "It would get boring." He swings her back around and she shrieks softly. "You're going to help me pick up the herds you spilled."

"Aww, Zed, there's so many."

…

Akriel sighs at the sudden warm weight that settles over his shoulder, a pair of delicate hands dangle down his front, curls brush against his ear, and he turns to kiss her cheek when she settles down. "What are you doing, baby bee?" Reading through the files sitting on his desk.

"Raph and Oren are helping Josh." He hums and she turns slightly, and she turns to kiss his cheek in return. "And I don't want to look at their yucky faces."

"Do I have a yucky face?"

She giggles softly, and he smiles down at his file, as she rests her chin on his shoulder. "You have a pretty face."

"Aww." He turns to look up at her, kissing her cheek again, she giggles lightly down at him. "You have a pretty face too." The mental specialist lifts his arm slightly. "Come on, kiddo, take a seat." Eiael smiles as she crossed from behind him, and slides onto his lap, leaning back against his chest, his arm curls back down around her, and she looks down at the file he's reading. "I can hold it." Little fingers brush against hers as she takes the file from his hands, and he smiles, resting his chin on her shoulder as he reaches forward to turn the page he's finished reading through over, moving on to the next one. He curls his arms around her waist as she settles back against him completely, her legs folded over his knees, toes brushing against the tops of his boots.

Akriel heaves a deep sigh, dropping his forehead against her shoulder, and lifted the file from her hands, closing it, and threw it up onto his desk. "I hate paperwork."

"Paperwork hates you too."

"Hey." He pokes her belly lightly. "Not funny." He leans back in his wooden office chair. "Kick your feet up, missy."

The little gardener giggles as she kicks her feet up on the desk, and he chuckles lightly. "Where are your shoes, baby bee?"

"In the treehouse."

"What good do they do you there, baby girl?"

"Keep my room full."

"Ha. _'Keep my room full'._" He barks a laugh and digs his fingers into her belly lightly. "You're a cheeky little thing, aren't you?" Eiael shrieks brightly, jumping in his hold, curling her fingers around his wrists in a desperate attempts to get him to stop. "Ak! AK! Stohohohop!"

"I don't know, you were being awfully snarky, and I haven't even done anything to you."

"I'm sorry!"

"I still don't know," he leans forward. "I'll stop if you give me a kiss."

She turns quickly, nearly spinning off his lap, to kiss his cheek. He smiles at the feeling, rubbing his cheek against hers, and she wiggles down comfortably in his lap, he closes his eyes a moment as she lays against him silently, playing with her fingers.

He feels her yawn. "It's getting late."

"I'm not tired yet."

"You _just_ yawned."

"I'm still not tired."

Akriel turns in his chair, spinning around gently, Eiael drops her legs over his knees again as they move. Joshua smiles at them a few beds away, his back healed enough that he's able to lay back against his pillows, he waves at them languidly.

He watches her stare at the older Gardener with bright sleepy eyes. "You mean you _don't_ want to go cuddle up with Josh? We can push your beds together. I'll tuck you in nice and warm." He looks down at her again. "You don't want that?"

Eiael licks her lips lightly, and nods, looking up at him. "I'm sleepy."

He kisses her cheek. "I know you are." He guides her to her feet and stands himself. "Let's get you in bed."

The little gardener nods as he guides her across the Infirmary floor, around the beds, to hers, where it sits so close to her guardians. He squeezes her shoulder and kneels for a moment, pushing the beds together completely, and then he stands, guiding her to her bed. "You get comfy."

Joshua grimaces as he adjusts his position, laying himself down on his pillows, and raises his arm for the little one to climb under. She curls against his side, her head resting on his chest lightly, her eyes already drooping. Akriel winks at them and pulls the blankets up to her shoulders, tucking her in gently, and reaches out to stroke his fingers over his little brothers cheek as well, while he's there. "You guys get some sleep."

Their little flower child hums softly, already half asleep, Joshua just had that effect on the energetic little garden sprite. Joshua kisses her forehead lightly and nods up at him, Akriel smiles, pulling his hand back. "Sleep well, Josh."

"Thank you, Ak."

"Anything for my baby brother and baby sister."

He stands, nodding to the space beyond them, he's going to make his rounds but he'll come back around to check on them.

Zed stops him as he passes his workstation, looking to the two peaceful Gardeners. "What did she say?"

"Apparently, Oren and Raph have yucky faces."

They share a soft laugh.


	113. It's Only Medicine

He blinked for a moment, his stirring faltering for a moment as his vision clouded over, as it became fuzzy and unfocused, and shook his head to clear it once more, before returning to his stirring again. Chancing a glance to the window, he sighed tiredly at the sight of the sun beginning to peak out from the horizon, another sleepless night gone, and another day he locked himself in his room to catch up on it.

Once he was done.

He couldn't sleep on his own, his mind wouldn't calm down enough to allow him to, his memories flooding his mind every time he tried to close his eyes. He needed something to take the edge off, something to numb his mind, so when he closes his eyes he can actually fall back into the welcoming hands of restful darkness.

Finishing his stirring, he knew when his concoction was done, he moved the small cauldron to sit in a bowl of ice, to shock it and cool it, before divvying it up into the small bottles he had lined up on his work bench. Sighing, he turned to set the excess bottles in the cupboard above his work bench, and carefully lifted the single bottle left on the table top between two fingers, blowing on the opening softly, it was still steaming, and lifted the bottle up to his lips to down his drought, closing his eyes in preparation for the relief to his weary nerves and overactive mind—

"Hey, Yaza—" His door opens, both of them jumping in surprise. "What are you doing?"

"It's not what it looks like!"

His brother steps into the room, closing the door behind him, and comes to stand before his work bench as he eyes the dirty cauldron and ingredients littered around his work bench. "You didn't get that from Raph, did you?" He looks up to his brother with narrowed eyes. "Semyaza, what are you doing?"

"It's not what it looks like, Azazel, I just need some help."

"Then you should _get _help." Azazel eyes the bottle he has in his hand wearily. "_That _is not getting help."

"I don't want to bother him, he'd only give me this anyway, and I can make it myself."

"That's self-medicating, Yaza, it's still not getting help."

"There's nothing wrong. I'm not doing anything wrong."

Semyaza glares at him lightly, downing the vial, and closing his eyes as he feels it take hold. Azazel watches him with concern, shaking his head disapprovingly at him, especially when he opens his eyes once more. His Captain sets the bottle down and crosses his arms lightly. "You have to swear an oath not to tell anyone."

Azazel crosses his own arms. "If there's nothing wrong, then why keep it a secret?"

"I'm serious."

"Being secretive indicates you know you're doing something wrong."

"Azazel!"

He holds his hands up placatingly. "Okay, okay, I swear I won't tell Raph." He crosses behind the work bench to catch his brother as his eyes begin to flutter, at least he knows what he'd made, and helps guide him back to his bed. "Let's get you laying down though, don't fall over, careful." Semyaza nods, letting himself be guided back to his bed, he falls forward on his bed, the mattress is soft, it's like being on a cloud, his pillow is fluffy, and his mind is slowly whirling to a quiet stop.

Azazel helps guide his feet up on the bed, tugging the blankets up around him carefully, as the sleeping drought made him something akin to an invalid.

He touches a hand to his brother's head as he stands again, frowning at the empty bottle and the dirty cauldron, and silently makes his leave.

As he closes the door behind him softly, he frowns to himself, rubbing his hands together lightly. "I promised not to tell _Raph_." He hums to himself and turns down the hall, at the end of the hall is an office, he saw his archangel enter it approximately thirty minutes ago, and he doesn't recall seeing him exit. "I never said I wouldn't tell Luci."

…

Semyaza stiffens at the knock on his door, the little bottle pressed against his lips, and stares at it for one breatless moment.

_"Yaza?" _He breaths a sigh of relief, it's just Luci, Luci wouldn't be bothered to check for anything suspicious. _"Can I come in?"_

"Umm…." His lack of sleep makes his mind groggy, he can't think of a hiding place appropriate enough to place his secret elixir, and so he goes with the best course of action he can think of at the moment and hides it behind his back. "Sure."

The door opens, Lucifer smiles at him gently, stepping into his room, and his eyes widen slightly, when the Healer steps in behind him. Both Archangels come to stand side by side, the Healers arms crossed over his chest loosely, and the Morningstar's crossed behind his back. Semyaza eyes them both cautiously for a moment, offering a smile that he hopes does not portray his nerves, and he didn't quite care for the glance that was shared between.

"Semyaza, I'm not going to lie to you, you know I don't do that." Lucifer crosses his arms over his chest. "I'm concerned. I was told some very concerning things. I would appreciate it if you would explain it to me."

"E—Explain what?"

"What have you got there?" He nods slightly. "Behind your back?"

"Uumm." He looks down nervously. "Nothing."

"Let me see your hands."

The Grigori nods, moving the bottle to his right hand, he brings his left to the front of him. "Nothing, see."

"Right, now, keep that one where I can see it, and let's see the other."

"No, that's okay."

He narrows his eyes slightly. "I wasn't asking."

Semyaza averts his eyes, looking down to his feet, and then he closes them as he slowly pulls his other arm out from behind his back, the one with the little bottle of heavy sleeping drought. Both archangels sighed, he couldn't tell what emotion was in those sighs, and he didn't dare look up to them, he didn't want to see their disappointment in him and his decisions.

A cool hand brushed against his as the little bottle was slipped from his grasp.

Lucifer frowned as he took the bottle from his Captain, passing it over to his brother, Raphael frowns with him, holding the little bottle up under his nose for him to sniff the contents and his frown deepens, as he turns back to his brother to answer his questioning expression. "It's a sleeping drought." He sniffs it again. "A rather strong one."

The older archangel frowns lightly, humming under his breath, as he turns to return his gaze to the Grigori before them. "Yaza, are you having trouble sleeping?"

Semyaza sighs softly, nodding his head in affirmation, reaching up to rub at his arm lightly.

"What is the cause of this trouble?"

"Nightmares." He rubs his hand over his throat, feeling the phantom pain of the spiked collar curled around his neck. "I can't sleep."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because…" He chances a glance up at them, flinching at the concern that shines in their eyes, he doesn't deserve their concern. He knows he's done wrong, that's why he told Azazel not to tell on him, he should have made sure he was clear, he wouldn't be in this position if he had been. "I can handle it."

"This is not handling it, Semyaza." Raphael sets the small bottle down on the edge of the work bench. "_This_ is self-medicating." He steps forward, leaving the older archangel's side, and tilts his head up with a knuckle under his chin, and he feels bad for causing them such concern. He doesn't deserve it. "How long have you been treating yourself?" He frowns as he turns his head from side to side gently, taking in his complexion, the deep purple bags under his eyes.

"Almost two months."

"I see," he hums softly, rubbing his cheek lightly, he offers him a comforting smile. "You're coming with me."

"Yessir."

"Now, you know there's no need to call me that." He leans around him for the blanket laying on the unmade bed. "You know you can call me anything, but that, there's no need to be so formal."

Semyaza nods, sighing softly when the blanket from his bed is curled securely around his shoulders, leaning into the Healer's side languidly when he curls his arm around his lower back and pulls him close to his side. Lucifer rubs at his curls lightly as they come to stand next to him, and he looks up to his archangel, the Morningstar offers him a gentle smile. "You rest and get well, Yaza."

The Grigori nods softly, smiling to him a small smile in return, as he's guided out of his room by the Healer.

He must have known before he thought he knew, when they arrive to the Infirmary, there's a bed made up for him, and he's guided to sit on the edge, then around to lay against the pillows. Raphael sits on the edge of the bed at his side, brushing curls from his eyes, and offers another kind smile. "You are not to take anything unless it's given to you, do you understand?"

He nods lightly.

"I am going to give you something to help you sleep for the night," he reaches for a vial sitting on the table at his bedside. "And we will talk when you wake in the morning."

"The dreams..."

"You sleep a dreamless sleep." He reaches out for him. "Come on, sit up." Cradling the back of his head, holding him up, the Healer presses the vial to his lips. "Drink it all." He downs it in one gulp, feeling the affects take ahold immediately, his eyelids growing heavy, his mind growing fuzzy.

His eyes flutter as he looks up, feeling the warm hand brushing his curls back gently, the blanket tugged up to his chin. "Sleep well, Yaza."


	114. Fix Me

_'I have tried to be better inside_

_We both know how it kills_

_I've tried to heal myself so many times,_

_But we both know that I'm still ill'_

_-Icon For Hire_

There was silence as they watched the Mindbreaker being dragged to the edge, her screaming and struggling against the hold of the guards, searching out for anyone to come to her salvation.

No one moved.

The Powers lined up at the end of the stairs that lead to the Gates, the Principalities and Grigori behind them, the two guards stationed at the Gates crossed their spears, in the case that she managed to break free from her captivity and tried to run back within the confines of their home. The others crowded in behind them, watching with wide eyes, silent as they gathered close to bare witness.

The Archangels lined up at the Gates, Michael nodding to the guards holding on to her, and they pushed her forward, to the edge. She shook as she stared down at it, the colors of the barrier between the plane they lived on and the plane the rest of the Universe did. Her chains were undone, the manacles removed from her wrists and ankles, and two guards grabbed her by the shoulders.

They all watched on baited breath as they pushed her forward, standing just before the edge, and waited for the command to push her forward, over the edge.

Michael turned to look at his brother, Raphael stared straight ahead, not bothering to return his gaze, and nodded stiffly. He turned back, voicing his command, and she screamed as she was shoved over the edge of their realm.

A hushed murmur spread over the crowd, and they watched as the guards at the edge turned, walking silently back to the Gates, the two at the Gates uncrossed their spears, stepping back, allowing them entrance. The Archangels turned as one, stepping down the marble stairs, Michael nods to his Captain, and he claps a fist across his chest, and they fall out, breaking their stance, and behind them, the Grigori and Principalities break apart.

The crowd disperses, turning back to return to their duties, the Legions and guards trailing behind them as the crowd moves languidly back to their doings.

Orion held onto her sleeve as they made their way up the stone stairs to the Infirmary above them, the Virtues were far behind the crowd, having been standing behind the Grigori, and healers slowly climbed the stairs around them, returning to their patients.

Her sister tugged at her sleeve, frowning at the tension in her sister's shoulders, not understanding what the matter was but wanting to help all the same.

"Gzel," Orion tugs on her sister's sleeve. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Her tone is clipped and she tugs her arm free from the other girls grasp. "I'm going upstairs."

"Gzel-"

"I said I'm fine, Rio." Orion comes to a stop, her sister continues forward, and she sighs deeply. "I'll be upstairs."

She watches her sister disappear in a sea of healers returning to their patients, and she deflates softly, turning to return to her work, tending to the patients under Akriel's care. Something's wrong with her sister, she knows there is, but she wouldn't talk to her about it. The only one she talked to was Akriel. The only one she'd ever talked to when she was having a problem was Akriel. He'd make things better when he got back. He always made things better.

…

Gzel stepped into the Lounge of the Loft silently, her fists curled tight, her mind whirling with unbridled rage.

She'd ruined everything, the mindbreaker had broken everything, she'd torn so many people apart. She'd made her into the mess she was, she'd broken her, she'd torn something that was beautiful and innocent apart and put it back together all wrong.

Her knuckles cracked as her fists curled tighter, as she made her way down the hall towards their room, the anger in her bubbling over the closer she got to their room. She turned the corner to stand in the doorway, hunching forward tensely, and she slammed the door behind her.

A raw scream of emotion tore from her throat as she ran forward, clearing the desk of its contents with one massive sweep of her arms, kicking the objects harshly across the room.

Everything that was wrong with her was because of the mindbreaker.

The mindbreaker had ruined her life.

She ran to the bookshelf, pulling volumes out one by one, and threw them over her shoulders.

Gzel screamed again, her fingers curling into her hair, tugging desperately.

She ran to the glasses and ceramic bowl on the side table between their beds, throwing them all at the stone wall, watching in sick satisfaction as they shattered to pieces.

Her knuckles split when she punched her fist into the stone wall, again and again, another scream tearing from her.

The broken angel fell to her knees, curling her arms around herself tightly, screaming an agonized scream as she curled in on herself, folding herself forward, her scream fading into sobs, harsh and overwhelming, shoulder quaking and chest heaving sobs.

"Gzel?"

She hadn't heard the door open.

She sobbed harder at the sound of his voice.

Frowning in concern, he set his sword to lean against the doorframe, and stepped into his room. Taking in the destruction around them, the broken shards of glass and ceramic, the books strewn all over the place, the contents of his desk spilled on the floor, he crossed into his room and knelt in front of her.

"Gzel," he sat on his knees before her, reaching out carefully for her, curling his hands around her cheeks to lift her head up. "Hey," he strokes her cheeks with his thumbs. "What happened?"

Another sob tore from her chest, the force of it bending her forward, and he follows her. "Hey," he lifts her back up again. "It's okay, you're okay, everything's okay." He pulls her forward, crawling forward on his knees for her, and carefully curls his arms around her.

She tenses at first, her muscles constricting under his touch, and then she melts, folding against him as another sob is ripped from her chest, her hands sneak up, bloody knuckles and all, to clutch at the front of his tunic, and he whispers soft words of reassurance and comfort down to her.

It's been some time since Gzel has had one of her episodes, and he knows what brought this one on, he had told her not to come to the trial.

Naomi was a trigger for her.

Naomi was a trigger for many people.

This was why he had told her not to come.

But he held her close anyway, cradling the back of her head, holding her close to him, as she sobbed into his chest. "It's okay, Gzel, you're okay." Akriel kisses the top of her head tenderly, pulling her back slightly when she sobs another heaving sob, holding her face in his hands. "Gzel you need to calm down, you're going to make yourself sick, you need to control your breathing."

She nods, struggling to catch her breath, and he presses one of her hands to his chest. "Feel my breathing, do you feel it?" Gzel nods slightly. "Match it, follow my breathing, match it." She nods again, inhaling a deep breath, she holds it for a long moment, before slowly exhaling. She hiccups slightly, slowly steading her breathing to match his. "There we go, it's okay, take another deep breath." She inhales again and waits for him to instruct her to let it out.

"Good girl," he brushes her hair back behind her ear. "Let's move to the bed Gzellybean, okay?"

Gzel nods again, still clutching to the front of his tunic, as he stands and helps her to her feet. Akriel guides her back to his bed, sitting her on the edge, he sits next to her, reaching for her left hand gently, to examine her busted knuckles. "What happened here, Gzellybean?"

"I—I punched the wall."

He hums softly. "It looks like the wall won that fight."

"A—Ak it hurts."

The Virtue nods lightly. "I'd say so." He reaches out to stroke her cheek lightly. "Let me get some things and we'll get you patched up, alright?" He waits for her to nod before standing to leave her for the moment.

There's a cupboard on the wall that keeps the things he needs incase of injuries. He grabs a small bottle of disinfectant, some cloth, and a roll of bandages.

Gzel sniffles and rubs her nose with her good hand, watching as he crosses back over to sit at her side, holding his hand out for her busted one. She passes it over, watching silently as he uncaps the bottle and pours some onto the cloth. "It's going to burn a bit." She nods and he dabs at her busted knuckles as softly as he can manage, she hisses at the sting, resisting the urge to pull her hand back from it. He finishes quickly though, and wraps the bandages around her hand, and once he sets aside the rag and disinfectant, he guides her around and back against the pillows. "Lay on back, Gzellybean, lay down, now."

She sniffles again and reaches out. "Please don't leave, Ak."

"I'm not going anywhere, Gzellybean." He reaches down, untying his boots so he can kick them off, and crawls up to lay on her other side. He raises his arm slightly. "Come here, Gzellybean." She crawls over, curling under his arm, against his side, and he pulls her close as he curls his arm around her. Gzel sniffs softly as she cuddles against his chest. "Sorry about your room."

"It's okay, Gzellybean, we'll clean it up later." He kisses the side of her head and strokes his fingers through her hair lightly. "Close your eyes, Gzellybean, close those eyes." She sniffles but her eyes flutter closed. "I'm right here, Gzellybean, you take a nice nap."

"You'll be here?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

Akriel watches her as her breathing evens out, and she settles down, the tension melting from her shoulders, stroking his fingers through her hair gently. Scratching at her scalp. Rubbing his fingers over her forehead, watching as the tension melted completely from the comforting grasp of sleep having come over her.

They'd talk come morning when she woke up.


	115. Just As Important

She was happy for him, happy that he had gotten back his younger sister, their relationship had obviously been a close one, and to see them back together was something that made her happy. She was happy if he was happy. That's all that mattered. And he was clearly happy, and that should be enough, so why was she unhappy.

He still spent time with her, still cuddled up with her at night, still talked to her just as much as he had before.

But she clearly wasn't Eiael, whom he clearly loved deeply, she was just some sort of replacement. There to fill in the void until the true keeper of his heart returned, and now she was here, so she had no place there anymore. Eiael knew more than she did in their craft, she helped Zed almost everyday, being a physical barrier between them, and Zed didn't tell her to move, didn't look around to check on her, didn't inquire with her wellbeing.

So, she couldn't help it if she began to withdraw again, Zed was the only one who could manage to pull her from her shell and keep her out in the open, and he was too busy with Eiael to notice that she was pulling away.

"Ara?" She ignored the voice, focusing on writing in her journal, leaning forward against the table that had been given to her. She was just a replacement, something there to fill in the empty spot at his side, this place wasn't meant for her. "Ara." Humming under her breath, she did her best to ignore the voice, it would go away once Eiael came around. "Hey," fingers curled around her upper arm, turning her away from her journal, around to face him. "Are you ignoring me?"

She huffed, trying to yank her arm free, but his grip was a tough one to break. "Let go."

"Ara, you've been ignoring me for nearly two days."

"I was just giving you space. You clearly wanted to spend time with Eiael." She yanked on her arm again. "Let me go!"

"What's gotten into you?"

"I'm just the replacement!" She finally manages to yank her arm free, startling him at the hostility, and she turns back to her journal. "I was just a place holder until she came back."

"Of course, your not. Why would you think that?"

Araton snorts softly, gripping her pencil harder, her knuckles losing their color. "I see the way you look at her. You adore her. She was here first. It's okay. I'm not anyone's number one, that's fine, I'm used to it."

"What are you talking about?"

She finally turns to look at him, her eyes burning with tears, and he frowns in concern at the sight of them. "It's okay! You don't have to humor me anymore! I get that she's more important. I was just there to keep you company until she came back, and now that she's back, I'm not needed anymore." She swipes at her face angrily when a tear manages to escape, throwing her pencil down angrily, wiping at her eyes again when more tears manage to get loose.

"Okay, I think we need to talk."

"What's there to talk about!"

She sniffles into her hands when fingers curl under her arms, and she's lifted from her feet, set to sit on the Apothecary's clean workbench. He leans forward, against the side of the table, between her legs, and pulls her hands away gently to wipe at her tears with his thumbs. "Now, tell me, what on earth are you talking about?"

The Apothecary's apprentice looks down to her lap, sniffling miserably, rubbing at her nose with the back of her hand.

He lifts her head back up with a finger under her chin. "Ara."

"I—I'm just the replacement, Zed, I get it. She was here first. I was just here to keep you company until she came back, and she's back now, I'm not needed anymore." She sniffles again and another tear falls down her cheek. "I'm going to have to go back to the dorms, aren't I?"

"What?" He cups both of her cheeks lightly, tilting her head back slightly to meet her eyes, he's frowning lightly. "Heaven's no. You are exactly where you belong." She opens her mouth and he shakes his head, he's not done just yet. "You are far from being a replacement, yes, she was here first, but that doesn't mean that I care for her any more then I care for you. I love you both the same. I love having you as my little apprentice, you are so knowledgeable and curious, I picked you because I knew you deserved it. You're just as important to me as she is."

"I'm just as important?" She looked him in the eyes, her eyes shining with unshed tears, and he smiles at her softly. "I'm not a replacement."

"You are not a replacement." The Virtue shakes his head lightly. "You're my little Ara. My little apprentice. And you mean the world to me." He leans back a bit, opening his arms, and she sniffles again. "Do you want a hug?"

Araton nods lightly, her face scrunching up as the tears break the dam she's built, and she buries her face into his chest as the tears come cascading over. His arms wrap around her tightly, pulling her close to him, holding her tight and protectively. She cries into his chest, clutching at his tunic tightly, as he strokes a hand down the back of her head and whispers soft words of reassurance and comfort down to her. "Come on, little Ara," he's lucky she's so small, as he pulls her forward, up into his arms. Her legs curl around his waist and her arms wrap around his neck, fingers curling into the shoulders of his tunic, and he turns them around, away from their work benches, and across the room to the stairs that lead up to the Loft above them. "Let's go spend some time together. Just you and me."

She cries into his shoulder, and he carries her up the stairs, whispering in her ear softly, words of comfort and reassurance.

The Lounge is empty when they enter it, he stops by the kitchen for a glass of sweet juice, she's going to need a drink when she's cried her last tear. Juice in hand, and Araton whimpering softly against his shoulder, he turns them down the hall for his room.

Closing the door just a crack, he steps over to his bed, leaving hers be for the time being, she needs to be kept close, and he's going to hold her for as long as she needs him to. He sets the glass of juice on the bedside table, and leans over to set her down on the bed, she lays against his pillows, red puffy eyes watching him and she curls her hands up against her chest. Zed smiles down at her, sitting on the edge of the bed, he reaches out for her left foot, unties the laces of her small boot, and pulls it off her foot, the comes her sock. Araton likes to sleep barefoot, and they're going to take a nice long nap together, so he wants to make sure she's comfortable. Then he reaches for the right and does the same.

He tugs at her toes softly and gains himself a small watery smile.

He moves up on the edge of the bed, and strokes her hair back from her eyes, and then his fingers over her cheek. He reaches for the cloth sitting on the bedside table, to clean her teary stained face up, rubbing it over her cheeks and under her eyes tenderly, and holding it to her nose, softly commanding her to blow.

She sits up when he gestures for her to do so and passes her the glass of juice. "Drink up." She nods, takes two large gulps of the juice, and passes the glass back to him.

He sets it aside once more.

Kicking off his own boots, he pats her thigh softly, nodding for her to scoot over for him, and she does so silently. He crawls into his bed next to her, and tugs lightly on her sleeve, lifting his arm for her. "C'mere, baby girl."

Araton whines softly and crawls closer, curling under his arm, resting her head on his chest. He crosses his ankles as she curls around him, curling the fingers of her right hand into the front of his tunic lightly, just beside her face, and she exhales softly. He plays with her hair tenderly, stroking his fingers through it, scratching at her head lightly. She breaths softly, listening to him hum under his breath, feeling comforted by the feeling of the scratching at the back of her head.

"I love you, so, so much, Ara." He leans down, kissing her head softly. "With all my heart."

She sniffs softly. "I love you too, Z."

"I'm sorry if I made you feel like you had only been a replacement." He kisses her head again. "That's the farthest thing from the truth."

"You promise?"

"Cross my heart, baby girl." He tugs on her ear lightly. "You mean the world to me."

She smiles slightly, nuzzling her cheek against his chest lightly, and closes her eyes as she listens to the thumping of his heart and the soft humming rumbling in his chest. He curls his hand over her ear, rubbing his thumb over her cheek tenderly, before moving back to stroking his fingers through her hair. "Take a nap, baby girl, go to sleep."

Araton scoots closer, until she's pressed against her side, and nuzzles her cheek against his chest again as she settles down. Rubbing his nose with her thumb, she still clings to the front of his tunic. She feels herself falling into the welcome arms of gentle darkness of slumber, its warm and comforting, and she sighs deeply as she allows the blanket of comfort to fall over her.

"M'sleepy."

"You're sleepy?"

She nods lightly, licking her lips, and he scratches at her head lightly. "Then go to sleep, little one, I'll be here when you wake up."

"P'omise?"

"Cross my heart."


	116. Overworked

It was not an unusual sight to find his Apothecary folded over his workbench, fast asleep, Zed was what was commonly known as a '_workaholic'_, he worked long days and well into the night, despite the protests from himself and his brothers.

He smiled slightly as he approached his work area, bending slightly to blow out the flame under the warming cauldron, he came to stand beside the sleeping Virtue. His shoulders rose and fell softly with every inhale and exhale, his head resting on his curled arms, snoring softly in his slumber.

Shaking his head softly, he touched a hand to the Virtue's back, chuckling softly when the younger angel snorted awake. Startled from his sleep, Zed was a light sleep, when he just dozed off, and when he really settled down, no amount of pestering or noise would wake him from his deep sleep.

Zed rubbed at his eyes, turning to peer at him from over his arm, and he smiled as he rubbed a soothing circle over his lower back. "You should be in bed."

"I'm fine," he rubs his eyes again and stretches, before returning to his hunched over position, looking down at his arms languidly. "I was just resting a bit."

"You were _asleep_, Zed, I've been around enough to know the difference between sleeping and resting."

He blinks slightly, as though trying to clear the fog from his brain, and nods again. "I'm okay. Sorry."

"Your hands must be sore," he reaches out to lift one in his grasp, rubbing his thumb over the back, he smiled down at him. "If you come with me, I'll rub your hands, ease the tension and stress away."

Zed seemed to consider it, he liked having his hands massaged, they often became sore from all the cutting and stirring he had to do throughout the majority of the day. He nods softly, standing from his stool, and let the Healer guide him around with the hand on the lower part of his back.

"Good decision," the Healer guides him forward, around his work bench, and down the cleared aisle towards the stairs that led up to the Loft above them. "I was not above drugging you."

His Virtue snorts softly. "I know you aren't." It wouldn't have been the first time he had done that to him, and they both knew it wouldn't be the last time, his Archangel was under the impression that he would do whatever it took to get him to rest up completely.

He guides him through the Lounge and over to the hall, down to his room, gesturing him forward, pushing lightly at his back, he urges him forward. "Get yourself changed for bed. I'm going to fetch some oil for your hands." Zed nods silently, stepping forward for the long tunic and knee high trousers laying haphazardly on the edge of his bed.

Raphael left him for a moment, to get his aforementioned oil, and he slowly, languidly slipping his tunic over his head and his trousers over his legs, he sits on the edge of his bed. His Archangel returns just minutes later, a vial of oil in his hand, and he sets it down on the bedside table as he guides the Virtue around, laying him down against his pillows, and sits on the edge of the bed.

"Now you just relax," he rubs his cheek lightly and reaches for the vial of oil. "Let me take care of you."

Zed nods, sighing deeply, and closes his eyes lightly. He's far from being asleep, but he's on the edge, and the Healer has grown quite accustomed to sending his beloved Virtues to sleep.

Reaching for the vial of oil, he pours a bit in his palm, and rubs his hands together to warm the oil and reaches for his right hand. Turning the hand over against his palm, he uses smooth gentle strokes to rub the oil into his palm, rubbing his fingers over the bottoms of his, turning his hand over, he uses the tips of his fingers to rub the oil into his palm and down his fingers, starting at the wrist and working his way down.

Humming softly all the while.

He flips the hand over, resting their palms together, and starting with the pinky, he squeezes the tip firmly for a moment. Then, using firm, short strokes with his thumb, he massages up the finger towards the knuckle, squeezing back down and rubbing back up again, over and over a couple more times, before moving on to the next finger.

Zed sighs softly, exhaling comfortably, and his hand slowly relaxes in his grasp, the tension fading away with the ache at the gentle rubbing and squeezing. His breathing slows, but he's still not asleep, and he wants to put his Apothecary to sleep.

Grasping his hand gentle between both of his, he presses his thumbs over the top of his hand, placing the pad of his thumb between the pinky and ring finger, and uses medium pressure, sliding his thumb along the finger bone, up towards his wrist. He works his way through the fingers, once, and then twice, and when he gets to the thumb he focuses his rubbing there for a bit longer, using small circular motions to massage the webbing between the thumb and index fingers.

Zed sighs again, his hand falling limp within his grasp, his breathing evening out even more. Just about there, just a bit longer, and he had all the time in the world.

Using his thumbs, he massages the wrist, small circular motions, starting from the center of his wrist to the outer parts, in and out, in and out.

Using his thumbs once more, he turns the hand around, cradling it between both of his, and massages the palm with small circular movements, beginning in the middle of the palm, and working his way out to the sides, and then up around to the wrist, repeating over once and then twice.

He intertwines his fingers with the Apothecary's, stretching the fingers apart, and grasps his entire hand within his own, gently pushing back to stretch the wrist a bit. Then slowly and carefully, he turns the wrist from right to left, left to right, over and over again.

Zed inhales softly and releases it slowly, melting back against his pillow, and he watches as his breathing begins to even out even more.

Turning his hand back over, he strokes his fingers from his wrist down to the tips of his fingers, a few times, and sets the hand down in favor of picking up the other one, repeating the process over again, with gentle soothing movements.

And then, his work reaping the rewards, his breathing evens out into a soft snore.

Still, he works the hand just as he had the other, he may be a sleep, but only just, running the possibility of waking if he stopped to soon, and he knows this, he knows full well how to put all of his Virtues to bed. He's had time and practice to perfect his methods.

He smiles to himself when a deeper snore reverberates around them, Zed is asleep, fast asleep, with no chance of possibly waking when he sets his hand back down and covers him with a blanket. Zed curled his hands in the blanket and curls it up under his chin, curling over on his side as he usually does, and he sits back on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, smiling in fond amusement as he snores again, a deep snore, coming from well within his chest.

"You sleep well, my little one." He leans over to press his lips to his forehead. "You've more then earned it."


	117. Sharing The Secret

It had been a rough day.

No matter how hard he tried to keep it from happening, there was days that _his _words managed to get under his skin, this time he had reacted, reacted in anger, throwing the tray of food at the prisoner as he lunged forward, he managed one solid strike before he was yanked back. Arms wrapped around his waist, lifting him cleanly from his feet, tugging him backwards, he grabbed onto the sides of the cell door, trying to pull himself free of his captivity. More hands appeared, prying his fingers from around the cell bars, as he's carried backwards out of the exscribes cell. Someone slams the cell door shut, ordering the exiled angel within to shut the hell up and eat his supper, there was a complaint about it being on the floor, and the voice from his other side replied with the notion that it was a clean floor.

He's spun around, away from the cell, and his hands are released as he's carried forward, away from the cells, down to the break room at the end of the hall. He screams in anger when he's finally released, spinning on the one who had pulled him out, a red haze fallen over his vision, he swings at them. Warm fingers curl around his fist before it can make impact and spins him around, pinning him back against someone's chest, fingers curl around his other fist and his arms are curled tightly around his chest.

"You need to take a deep breath." A warm voice sounds in his right ear, and he growls, tugging against his confines. "Take a deep breath, Sorath." He grinds his teeth, but inhales deeply, just as he was ordered. He holds it until he's told to let it go, and when he does, he deflates against the taller angel behind him, falling back against his chest. "Better?" He nods silently and the arms around him loosen, but they don't release their grip on his fists, he huffs softly. "I'm good."

"You sure?" A bearded chin rubs against his right ear. "We can take a few more moments."

"I'm sure. I'm okay now. You can let go."

"Okay, if you're sure."

Sorath nods, turning when the arms uncurl from around him, Sabaoth smiles down at him when he turns to face him. "Better, little brother?"

"I'm better."

"Good," he nods lightly, curling his arm around his back, rubbing a soothing circle over his lower back. "Let's head back in then."

Sorath nods, letting his older brother guide him forward, out of the break room and back to their post outside of Metatron's cell. Osmadiel looks up at their approach, standing from Sorath's stool, stepping back to his own side of the hall. "Everything okay."

The older guard nods silently, rubbing another circle against his lower back, and then his hand moves, to rub over the back of his head. "We're good."

He guides the younger guard to sit on his stool, resting his hand on top of his head lightly, he turns to the scribe. "You keep your mouth shut for the rest of the evening." He holds up a finger when he opens his mouth. "If I hear another word, _I'll _come in there, and we both know you don't want that." Metatron frowns, but nods, the older guard has a temper that can rival them all. It was not a fate that should be tempted.

Despite the fact that he remained quiet for the rest of the evening, his night had already been ruined, not even the thought of playing with his toy cars, as he was planning to do tonight, made him feel better. He was angry, beyond angry, and part of him weighed the pros and cons of trying to get passed his older brother again to get back into that cell.

He held off though.

He didn't want to make Sabaoth mad.

And, he didn't want his toys taken away.

He went to find Titus when they got off, only to be told that he was out on a mission, and he wouldn't be back for another three days. Nisroc had asked if there was anything he could do to help, but he shook his head, he didn't feel comfortable telling the Power Captain about that just yet. It was a personal secret, one that he kept close to his heart, there were few who knew about it, very, very few. Really, it was only two, him and Tus. Not even his old guardian knew.

And he really wanted it.

But Tus wasn't there to help him.

He thanks Nisroc for his time and his kindness, and the stuffed tiger he'd gotten him, and turned back for the stairs behind him. Taking them slowly, he sighed sadly as he turned down the hall that contained their bedrooms, he'd just return to his and crawl under the blankets, he didn't even feel like playing, that's how _bad _he felt.

A noise caught his attention, the soft sound of someone humming to themselves, and he paused in the hallway before he could get to his own room. He turned to the source of the humming, spying between a cracked door, watching Sabaoth gather his long hair up into a bun on top of his head, pulling his rings off his fingers and set them on the top of shelf under the small mirror hanging on his wall.

He turns to the door more directly, raising his fist slightly, as though to knock on the door. But he pauses, hesitating, considering the odds on telling him his secret, when the doors pulled open in front of him.

"Sora?" He blinks at the call of his name, looking up to his older brother with wide eyes, he smiles down at him, tilting his head to the side. "What's wrong?"

"How did you know I was here?"

"I could see you from the corner of my eye." He smiles at him softly, he likes Sabaoth, he's so nice to him, like Tus is. "What can I do for you?"

Sorath takes a deep breath, holds it for a moment, and then exhales. He's nervous, what if Sabaoth thinks differently of him, what if he makes fun of him for it, what if he stops wanting to spend time with him, what if he thinks it's wrong—

"Sora?" He blinks out of his stupor, looking up into the concerned eyes of his new big brother, Sabaoth smiles at him softly. "Everything okay?"

He shuffles slightly. "Can I come in?"

The older guard nods without hesitation, opening his door wider, he gestures for him to enter at his own will. Sorath wrings his hands together as he enters, nodding to himself when he hears the click of the door closing behind him, feeling the warmth of his older brother as he comes to stand behind him. "Sora, what's on your mind?"

He inhales deeply, turning to face him, and he feels his cheeks heat up. "Promise you won't stop talking to me?"

"There is nothing you could do that would make me stop talking to you."

"Promise you won't think I'm bad?"

"Well, that depends on what it is." He rests his hands on his hips lightly. "What is it?"

Sorath looks down, staring at his feet, as he takes another deep breath. He holds it for a moment, and lets it go. He closes his eyes. "Ilikebeingtickled."

His older brother chuckles warmly. "One more time, I didn't quite catch that."

Sorath clutches his fingers into fists. "I..I like being tickled."

He waits.

"Okay."

"Okay?" He looks up to his older brother, Sabaoth nods, smiling at him gently. "Okay." Sorath smiles at him, his face heated, and looks back down to his feet, shuffling his boot against the stone floor under them. "Do you want me to tickle you?" He bites his lip and nods.

There's a bout of silence, and he closes his eyes, waiting for the dismissal.

He shrieks in surprise, eyes flying open, as he's lifted off his feet. His older brother smiles up at him, pressing his chin to his belly, holding him up. "I'd be glad to, baby brother." He giggles despite himself, the anticipation beginning to build within his belly, as his older brothers steps forward. Sabaoth chuckles at his giggling warmly, bending forward once they reach his bed, letting the younger guard fall backwards onto the mattress. Sorath shrieks as he falls backwards, winding his arms as he falls, bouncing on the mattress underneath him.

His older brother kneels at the end of the bed, trapping his feet as he undoes the laces of his boots, tugging them off his feet. "You are not getting your boots on my bed."

Sorath crawls backwards into the pillows as his older brother stalks forward, crawling over his legs, laying over them to keep him in place. "I don't even know where to start, and I should, I'm your big brother." He tilts his head slightly. "Where do you want tickles first?"

Sabaoth smiles at the adorable little giggles that spill from him, as he points to his belly, and he pokes a finger into the belly surface. "You want belly tickles?"

"Yes, please, Sabaoth."

"Call me Saba." He pokes his fingers into his belly. "Everyone else does."

"I want belly tickles, Saba."

"Okay, baby brother." He wiggles his fingers into his lower belly. "I can give you belly tickles."

Eventually he ends up with his tunic pulled up, his older brother's face buried in his belly, and he's squealing like a happy little fledgling.

Then they start wrestling, both trying to gain the upper hand, Saba wins.

And he ends up laying on top of his older brother, arms curled around his middle, fingers digging into his sides, and he shrieks with laughter, kicking and wiggling in his grasp.

Finally coming to rest against him, after another bout of wrestling, he lays between his older brothers legs, one of them bent upwards against his side. Fingers stroke through his hair lightly, stroking his hair back, rubbing at his head gently. His head resting on his stomach, rising and falling softly with every breath, comfortable where he lays.

"Feel better, baby brother?"

He nods against his brother stomach, humming softly, he closes his eyes for a moment. "Thanks, Saba…..." He turns into his stomach slightly, hiding his face. "Big brother."

Fingers scratch at the back of his head. "Anything for you baby brother." The fingers return to stroking through his hair. "Do you want to sleep in here tonight?"

"Can I get my dolphin first?"

"Of course you can, baby brother." He strokes his hand down the back of his head. "Let's go get your dolphin."


	118. The Tickle Monsters

Hasmal giggled endlessly as he watched the wiggling fingers circle over top of him slowly with wide attentive eyes, one brother straddling his waist to keep him from sitting up, and another brother holding his arms above his head to keep his attacker free from obstructions.

"I'm gonna get you, Maly." His older brother teased him as his hands slowly started lowering towards his bare quivering belly. "I'm gonna get you."

He shakes his head frantically, his giggles picking up in quantity as the fingers draw closer and closer, his older brothers chuckling fondly at his reaction. Hasmal throws his head back, pressing his head back into the pillow, arching his back, when the fingers finally make contact. Wiggling and spidering all around his belly, his older brothers laughing softly with him, enjoying the shine that came to his eyes and the laughter that flowed from him like water down a stream.

Nisroc bends over him, poking his fingers into the sides of his belly, smiling at his bright bubbly laughter. "Tickle, tickle, tickle, baby Maly." He shares a chuckle with his other capturer when he manages to make him squeal, clawing a hand over the middle of his belly, wiggling his fingers in, and vibrating his hand, it drives the younger Power up the wall. "Coochie, coochie coo, baby Maly."

"It's no fun just holding him down," Titus adjusts his grip on his arms above his head, gripping both of his wrists with one hand, he reaches down to wiggle a finger into one underarm, smiling at the shriek that it pulls from the younger angel, and then jumps to the other. Hasmal shakes his head frantically from side to side, shrieking with laughter, his legs kicking behind his oldest brother.

…

Haniel squealed, before anything even happened, when he heard his older brother take a dramatically deep breath, bracing himself for what's about to come. He's captive between his older brothers legs, his arms curled around his midsection, under his arms, keeping him trapped back against the edge of the bed. He shrieks when his brother adjusts his position, rubbing his beard into his neck, and squeals again when he finally blows that vicious raspberry that he's been holding onto. He grips his brothers knees, arms outstretched, and his fingers curl in deeply when he nuzzles into his neck again.

Titus chuckles at him, kneeling in front of him, poking him in the belly repetitively, keeping an ever flowing bout of giggles erupting from him at all times.

He hadn't even done anything to them, this time, they'd just come in, smiling in that manner that he knew to send chills down his spine, and wrestled him down in this position.

…

Puriel screams with laughter, pounding his fists against the mattress of his bed, as his two older brothers dig relentlessly into the meat of his thighs, spidering their fingers over the underside of his thighs, before returning to the inner portion, digging, and squeezing, and spidering fingers all over. His older brothers sitting on the edge of his beds, one leg curled in front of them, one of his legs curled under one arm in restraint, as they tormented his sensitive thighs.

"MEHEHEAHAHAHHAERCY! MEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHEAHHEAERCY!"

"No mercy for you, little brother."

"Indeed, our dear little brother needs reminded on who the _real _tickle monsters here are."

…

"N-Now guys..." He waves his hands at them placatingly as he backs away from them slowly. "L-Let's talk about this..."

"Oh, Abey, there's nothing to talk about."

"We just want to hear some of your sweet laughter."

The quiet Power backs up another step as his older brothers slowly gain on him, yelping when his back hits the wall behind him, they've cornered him in the hall. Nisroc and Titus smile at him, he doesn't think he likes that smile, it's a conniving smile, and it sends chills down his spine to see it on both of their faces.

"No where else to go now, little Abe."

"I guess you could say you're stuck between a rock and a hard place now."

Abraxos looks caught between succumbing to his fate and whether or not he could break through between them and make a run for it. He tries for the latter, trying to jump forward, between the two older Powers, they laugh at his attempt, catching him by the wrists, the shove him back against the wall with a hand on each shoulder. His arms braced above his head, he looks between his older brothers with wide eyes, smiling at them in anticipation. They smile back at him, both leaning forward to kiss his cheeks, and he snorts as he shakes his head.

His older brothers chuckle lightly in amusement.

"Aww, does baby Abe still get all flustered when you kiss his cheeks." Nisroc chuckles, turning to look at his brother next to him, Titus rubs his nose against the younger Power's cheek and turns to meet his older brothers gaze. "Should we do it again?" He nods lightly. "I think we should."

Abraxas shakes his head again, smiling despite himself, whining softly. "Guuuuys!

"What?" Nisroc smiles at him lightly. "You don't want us to kiss your cheeks?"

Titus chuckles as he leans back. "How about this then?" He digs the fingers of his free hand into his side, Abraxos shrieks in surprise, jumping away from his fingers. Their older brother hums next to him. "I think I like that." He digs his fingers into his other side and Abraxos shrieks with bright laughter.

…

They sit on either side of her, smiling as she giggles, poking her in the belly repeatedly. Abraxas curls her arms around herself as much as she can, but they manage to find cracks in her defensive measures, and continue to poke her in the belly.

"Hey, baby girl."

She smiles up at him, her eyes shining with happiness and giggles. "Hi, Grizzly Bear."

"Hey, cutie."

She turns to her other big brother. "Hi, Tus."

Nisroc smiles down at her when she manages to curl her fingers around his wrist. "We love you so much." Titus shares his smile, lifting her arm up and away, when she manages to curl her fingers around his wrist as well. "We adore you, baby girl." He wiggles the fingers of his free hand in the side of her belly, and she shrieks, jumping away from him as bubbly laughter fills the room. Their oldest brother smiles, humming under his breath. "Good idea." And wiggles the fingers of his free hand into the other side of her belly. "Nohohohoho!"

"Coochie coochie coo, baby bear."

…

Sablo squirms from side to side, shrieking with laughter, tugging desperately at the captivity of his arms curled behind his back, as fingers race over his sides playfully. Nisroc always takes his opportunities to torture him, whenever they arise, and he presses back against his other big brother in an attempt to escape the fingers. He hasn't met this one yet, this is their first meeting, but he likes him.

Titus is nice, playful, like Nis is, and really quiet.

"It's nice to meet you, little Sablo." He whispers into his ear, and then he feels him bend slightly, his breath against his neck softly, and shrieks brightly when he buries his face in.

…

Titus backs away from what had once been his partner in crime, hands held out defensively, shaking his head slowly. "Nis, no, we were in this together!"

The older Power advances slowly. "I apologize for deceiving you. Your turn was always coming. I just waited until I had no need of you anymore."

"So, I'm worthless now!"

"Oh, baby brother, you are far from worthless."

He backs into the side of a desk and holds his hands up higher.

"Your time has come." Nisroc smiles at him, evading his attempts at blocking him, and lifts him slightly by the waist, pushing him over the edge of the desk until he was laid on his back. Titus stared up at him with wide eyes as he stepped up between his legs, shaking his head slowly when he felt fingers curl into his inner thighs, and inhaled at the smile that crossed his brother's features. "I will miss you dearly."

He unashamedly squeals when the fingers dig in.

…

He was not one to take betrayal sitting down.

Though perhaps bringing _him _into their schemes was cheating.

But as he walked into the Lounge, spotting his older brother sitting between the archangel's legs, howling with laughter as fingers assaulted his ribs, he only smirked smugly and kept walking.

Nis could talk as much as he wanted, but they all knew who the real tickle monster was in this family of theirs, and he was digging his claws into their Captain with the skill that came with experience.


	119. The Wiggly Bed

He walks into his room, rubbing the towel over his head, drying his hair, smiling at the sight that awaits him.

She's sprawled over his bed, laying on her back, arms and legs spread out around her. She's claimed his bed as her own, humming under her breath, completely relaxed against the soft mattress and stitched quilt.

"Comfortable, Rio?"

She nods lightly, eyes closed, enjoying her position on his bed. "Very."

He finishes drying his hair and sets the towel to hang over the back of the chair at his desk, for it to dry overnight, and returns to stand at the end of his bed, crossing his arms lightly. "Rio, I wouldn't mind you laying on my bed, except for the fact that you're taking up the _entire _bed."

"First come, first serve."

"Scoot over, you little rugrat."

"I was here first."

Akriel rolls his eyes fondly. "Fine. You brought this on yourself." He turns, sitting at the bottom of his bed, scooting back between her legs, and lays himself down overtop of her. Orion shrieks softly, squirming underneath him, and he smirks as he braces his arms around her legs.

"Ak! Get off!" The laughter overpowers the bite in the demand. "You're _heavy_!"

"I'm don't _want _to." He squirms around over top her. "I'm comfortable."

"You're squishing me!"

"I told you to scoot over."

Orion laughs brightly, pushing at his shoulders, she just barely manages to lift his shoulders up when he falls back over top of her, completely limp. "Ak!"

"Yes, Rio." He squeezes her thighs lightly. "How can I assist you?"

"Get off!"

"I could just fall asleep right here."

"Don't you dare!"

He reaches up, digging his fingers into her sides, and she shrieks with laughter. Kicking out, her feet press into the mattress and she tries to scoot herself out from under him, he chuckles deeply and moves his hands, curling his fingers into the underside of her thighs, and wiggles in deeply, she squeals brightly, throwing her feet out, her legs dropping to the mattress under them.

The Virtue stops his torment on her left thigh, focusing on her right, and she shrieks with laughter. He leg straightens, her toes spreading as she tries to kick her leg free, digging her heel into the mattress as she tries to throw him off balance, he only reaches over with his free hand and digs into the meat of her inner thigh, bringing forth another squeal as she throws her right leg out again.

"My bed needs to sit still, I can't sleep in these conditions." He moves to her other thigh, curling his fingers under the outside of her left thigh, and wiggles them in deeply. She squeals just as brightly as she had moments previous, that leg lifting in his grasp, trying to pull away from his torturous fingers, and he curls the fingers of his other hand into her inner thigh. "It's much too wiggly."

"AK!" She pushes at his shoulders again. "Ahahahahahak! Stop! Stohohohop!"

"What's the magic words?"

"Pleheheheehahahease!"

"No, those aren't the magic words, try again," he reaches down. "Let me see if I can reach those little feet."

"No! No! Give me ahahahhaanother chance!"

"One more."

"I lohohohove you!"

"Aww," he pulls his hands away from her thighs. "I love you too, Rio." Akriel looks up slightly, tilting his head back a bit. "Do you want to go get a snack?"

"Yes, please."

"Okay, baby girl." He curls his fingers under her thighs again. "Grab on." Her arms curl around his neck, and he grunts as he sits up, falling between her legs to the mattress under them, and her legs curl around his waist as he uses his hands to push himself up from the bottom of the bed. He lifts them both up, himself to his feet, and her on his back, like the little monkey she is.

He braces his arms under her thighs, his fingers curling around her knees, and he turns them towards the door. "What are you in the mood for, little monkey?"

"Fruit!"

The mental specialist chuckles softly. "What kind of fruit?"

"What have we got?"

"Hmm," he walks them down the hall, turning to their small kitchen area, and comes to stand before a table with fresh fruits and vegetables sitting on the table top. "We have lots of fruits." He leans forward slightly. "Anything catch your eye?"

Orion leans up, curling her fingers around his shoulders to pull herself up so she can see over, surveying the fruit on the table before them. Reaching over his shoulder, she points to the one she wants, and he follows her gesture. "The mango."

"Mango it is." He picks it up from the basket, passing it to her over his shoulder, and she curls her slim fingers around it, rubbing it on the back of his tunic, and takes a bite, humming in pleasure. He smiles to himself, reaching forward for an apple for himself, and rubs it on the front of his tunic, much like his little charge had, and takes a bite. "You good?"

She nods, curling her free arm over his shoulder, leaning forward against his shoulders, and takes another bite. "I'm good."

"Okie doke." He turns them back around, heading back down the hall for his room, and turns away from the end of the bed, as he sits back on the edge, laying back to set her on the pillow. She uncurls from around him and lays comfortably on the bed as she munches on her mango, and he sits back up, moving a bit over to the other end of the bed, and crawls back to fall into those pillows.

Taking another bite of his apple, the mental specialist lifts his arm slighty, and she crawls under it, settling in the crook of his shoulder, and takes another bite of her mango. He looks down at her as he takes another bite of his apple. "Are you sleeping with me tonight?"

She nods silently, munching on her mango, and he smiles, leaning over to kiss her forehead tenderly. "Okie doke."


	120. Under The Knife

After everything that had occurred, he knew to keep a sharp eye on him, someone who was known to have harmed themselves once was likely to do so again, so he kept a close eye on him, as much as he could with his busy filled days.

He noticed right away when he disappeared from the crowd of healers, and excused himself to go in search for him, it didn't take long to locate the missing angel, sitting all in his lonesome on a small wooden chair at the back of the Infirmary, pushed up against the wall behind him. He was bent over himself, his face buried in his hands, and his eyes were immediately drawn to the red dripping down his arm.

Sighing softly, Raphael made his way to his side, kneeling before him quietly. "Oren," he reached for his hands gently, curling his fingers around his wrists, he pulled them away slowly. Red eyes look up at him a moment, a pain so deep was hidden in them, and averted back to the floor. "Oren, let me see." The Virtue made no inhibition as he stretched his arms out slightly, and turned them over, in order for him to examine the wound on his arm.

A deep gash, straight down his inner arm, blood dripping from the edges. He pokes a finger to the edge lightly, looking up when his Captain hisses, and nods lightly to himself. It had been a stressful last few weeks, and in that, he had kept a close eye on the volatile Captain, the last time he had been put under such pressure had ended with the end of a life, and that was something he wanted to avoid as best as he could.

While this was to be desired, he could work with this, this could be handled with appropriate care.

"I'm sorry." His Captain mumbles under his breath, staring down at the droplets of red on the floor under him, not seemingly bothered by the gash torn into his arm. "I was weak."

"It's alright, Ori." He keeps his arm steady, as to not fling any more blood around, and guides him up from his chair. "You're alright." Oren climbs to his feet, his eyes still downcast, avoiding the inquiring glances from anyone around him. "Let's get you patched up."

The Healer guides the Virtue forward, to a spare bed nearest to them, sitting him on the edge of the bed. He himself pulls a small wooden wheeled chair over to sit in, and reaches to pull a small cart of necessary supplies to his side. "Talk to me Ori, what happened?"

"I got…It was….It was too much…." Oren rubs at his eyes with his free hand. "I couldn't….I'm not…..Overwhelming…Too much…."

"It was too much for you?"

He looks up to see his Captain nod lightly, looking down to his lap again, and he hums softly.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't….I should…..I'm a Virtue….A _Captain_…" Oren rubs at his face lightly. "I shouldn't be so easily overwhelmed."

"Oren, you went through something that not many can come throw whole." He looks up at him, rubbing at his cheek with his free hand, trying to be as assuring as he could be. "It is not weakness to become overwhelmed. I would come to expect nothing less."

Oren nods silently, looking back down, and he sighs, turning for the cart next to him. In the first drawer there is a stack of cloths, he used one to dab at the gash, cleaning up the wound, mopping up the excess blood, clearing away the mess. In the second drawer was a number of vials, he selected the disinfectant he needed, and wet a clean cloth with it. "It's going to sting just a bit." Oren nodded again, staring at his boots silently, ashamed that he had succumbed to his weakness. He should be stronger then that, better, not so easily defeated.

He just needed something to ground him.

Raphael curled the cloth over the wound, pressing it in firmly, and looked up briefly when the younger angel hissed in discomfort. He dabbed at the long gash firmly, ensuring that the disinfectant got into the wound itself, fighting any infection from the inside out.

Setting the wet bloody cloth aside, he opened the second drawer once more for a vial of antibacterial ointment, scooped a good amount out with two of his fingers, and rubbed it over the cleaned wound to keep it cleaned, and then opened the third drawer for a swath of bandages, carefully binding it around his forearm to cover the wound from any outside interference.

With the wound tended to, he leans forward, reaching down for his boots, and unties the laces. Holding the right down, he looks up at him. "Pull your foot out." Oren complies, and then they do the same with the left foot, and he sits up to guide his Virtue around, laying him down against the pillows. "I am pulling you from the floor for a bit."

"I—"

"That is final. Nonnegotiable."

The Captain nods lightly, folding his arms over his stomach carefully, minding the tenderness of his right arm.

He nods in return. "I am also keeping your boots." The Virtue looks up at him in confusion, so he elaborates for him. "The shoe strings." Oren nods again in understanding. Raphael nods again. "You are also not allowed to go to your room, you are to remain where I can see you, if you need to leave my line of sight, I will come with you."

Oren nods again, rubbing at his nose lightly with his good hand, not wanting to move his other arm and aggravate his wound. "I'm sorry for being such a burden." His voice is soft, hurting, and empty. "I'm not strong enough for my position."

"Nonsense." He reaches up to stroke his hair back. "You are one of the strongest ones I know." The Healer offers him a kind comforting smile, stroking his fingers down the side of his face, tucking strands of hair behind his ear. "You are the farthest thing from being a burden. Everyone has moments that they need help, you are no different, I am no different. It's the ones that allow themselves to be helped that are the strongest." He caresses his cheek tenderly. "So, you are _strong. _There is no one else I would want as the Captain of my Virtues. You will get better and I will be there every step of the way."

"You won't let me fall."

The Archangel shakes his head. "Never. I'll always be there to catch you." Oren smiles at him, and he curls his fingers over his forehead. "I love you, RaRa."

"I love you too, little Ori." He leans forward, pressing his lips to his temple, a tender kiss to the forehead. "You get some sleep. I'll take care of everything. I'll come check on you in a bit. You sleep."

Oren nods, cuddling down under his blanket, curling his arm up against his chest, and yawns.

If Raphael pushed a bit of his grace through that contact to put him to sleep, well, that was his business.


	121. Say Something

They all smiled to the young elect as he joined them in the Lounge, claiming the spot next to their Captain, curling up on the cushioned seat next to him, smiling to himself when the older Power lifts his hand from his thigh so he may lay his head there, fingers threading into his curls when he lays down. Nisroc doesn't so much as pause his response to the guards captain when he lifts his hand for the young elect to lay his head on his thigh, threading his fingers through his curls once he sets it back down, and scratching softly at his head. Sablo sighs comfortably and lifts the book he'd brother with im to his face, opening to the page that had been previously marked, reading silently to himself as to not disturb the conversation he had no part in joining.

"I had to take Aba's knives again." Abraxos rubs a hand over his face, sighing deeply, tiredly, they had hit another rough patch with her, and he was struggling to understand, he understood, but at the same time he didn't. It was something he wouldn't truly ever understand because it wasn't something that had happened to him, it was her past to live through. "I walked in on her."

"It's the best thing you could do, Abe." Nisroc looks up from the youngest Power's head, running his fingers through his dark soft curls. "Just keep your eyes on her until this episode passes."

"She won't talk to me about it anymore. She won't talk to Ak about it. I don't want to force her to talk to me, but I don't know what to do anymore."

"Well don't force her to talk." Sablo turns the page. "She'll only turn away more."

Nisroc looks down at him, smiling slightly at his input, and strokes the curls back from his forehead. "I agree, pushing her could only push her away, and that's the last thing we need."

"I know that, of course." Abraxos looks over to them from under his fingers. "But what other choice is there."

"We'll find something, Abe, don't worry. Just continue to keep an eye on her until we do."

Puriel had been watching him for the better half of fifteen minutes when he finally spoke up. "Sab, I don't think I've ever seen you with your sleeves rolled up."

He seemingly goes unheard, as the young elect turns the page in his book, his eyes skimming over the page. The others hear him though, and each turn to look at their youngest member curiously, they too hadn't seen him with his sleeves rolled up before.

Sablo doesn't notice. "There's no use trying to get her to talk about it." They looked down at him, Sablo didn't see their attention shift, and he flipped to the next page. "Personally, I never did. I mean, everyone's different I guess, but I never liked talking about it. Not that my guardian ever really noticed, there was so many of us, and I was the runt of the litter, they never really paid a whole lot of attention to me to notice anything. Paid off in my favor."

"What?"

"I preferred my inner arm, high enough that it's hidden under the sleeve, low enough that it doesn't burn when you bend your arm."

"Sablo, what are you talking about?"

"I mean, it only hurts for a minute, and then it goes away. They're just lines, or at least mine were only lines, nothing too big and bad. I don't know about her."

"Sablo," Nisroc's hand pauses, fingers spread in his curls, and they exchanged concerned looks over the unknowing elect. "Did you harm yourself?"

He shrugs, turning another page in his book. "I don't really anymore, I used to everyday though, but things have gotten better so I don't need to anymore." He turns another page. "No sweat though. It's not important."

Puriel frowns, leaning forward, he curls his fingers around the top of the book and lifts it from the young elects hands. "Sablo."

"Hey!" He pulls it back when the younger angel reaches out for it. "I was reading that!"

"Yes," Titus takes the book from the medic, keeping it far from his reach, when he nearly snatches it back. "And now, we're talking."

"There's nothing to talk about though!"

Nisroc frowns softly. "Sab, for as long as I've known you, I've never seen you wear your sleeves rolled up."

That seems to rock the young elect from his reverie, and he looks down to his arms in surprise, it had been a hot day, before the sun had begun to set and it had started to cool down, he'd just forgotten to roll his sleeves back down as the matter had slipped his mind.

"Yes, Sablo, I could say the same." Titus tilts his head as he leans forward. "Why would that be?"

"No reason." He reaches down to roll his sleeve back down, when fingers curl around his wrist, pulling his arm up and his hand away. "What are you—"

"Can I see?" Puriel pulls his hand closer, frowning as he turns his arm over, looking down at the underside. Just where he had said, his frown deepens as he rubs his fingers over the raised scars, Nisroc frowns with him, lifting his other arm with his free hand, for him to examine the inner arm there as well. Titus peers over the medic's shoulder for a look of his own and Abraxos peers over his Captain's.

"Sablo," they look down at him, his face red, eyes closed. "Why?"

He sighs in resignation, they've seen, there's no use avoiding it now. "It was lonely." They frown in concern down at him, he can feel it, even if he can't see it. "My guardian didn't really care about me, the others were so much better then I was, so I was left alone most of the time."

"Did they know?"

The youngest Power nods slightly. "They'd get mad and patch me up."

"They got _mad_." Puriel sounds miffed. "You were harming yourself, and they got _mad _at you for it, did they even try to figure out why?"

"No, not really, they'd act all concerned when others were around, but then I'd disappear from their minds when we were alone again."

"That's more then neglectful." Abraxos looks up to his older brother, Nisroc's frowning in disgust, he's rather fond of their young elect. "That's practically abuse."

Nisroc nods in agreement, and looks down to the young elect, brushing his curls back. "Sab, can you look at me?" He turns his head in his direction. "Open your eyes, Sab." His bright eyes blink open. "You don't have those feelings still, do you?"

He shakes his head. "No. I like it here. You guys are nice. And I'm more then just a passing thought."

"Damn right." Titus nods firmly, leaning over to press his lips to the scars littered on his forearm, he pulls away and Puriel rubs his arm, as though rubbing the affection in. "We take good care of our own."

"You'd tell us if you ever had the urge again, right?" Sablo averts his eyes, his Captain won't accept that as a response, and taps his nose to gain his attention back. "Sablo, please?"

"I guess, I mean, it's not really a problem."

"It is though, little brother, it's a big problem." He strokes his curls back. "I don't want to see you hurt, you mean a lot to me, please tell one of us if you ever feel like that again."

He smiles slightly, it feels good that someone cares about him like that. "Okay, Nis."


	122. Make You Feel My Love

**Warning: sexy times ahead.**

She stands next to her father, before his throne, watching at the other angel's twirl around to the music created by the Choirs instruments, her hands folded delicately down her front, the necklace that is her father's crest dangling down her front, her gold stitched gown drapes down around her snuggly, form fitting, the emerald circlet rested against her forehead lightly, long silky curls falling over her shoulders.

She smiles as he steps up the stairs towards them, hand held out to her. "May I have this dance?"

Nodding softly, she reaches out with her right hand, curling her fingers around his, he raises his arm as he guides her around, down the stairs from the Thrones of the Archangels, to the floor below. She turns, her fingers twirling around his, as she settles before him, the fingers of her right hand reaching up to curl around his shoulder, while the fingers of her left hand curls around his waist. His fingers, long and warm, curl around her waist, as he guides them around the floor, twirling in time to the tune circling around them like the wind circles around the tree tops.

"Thank you," she smiles up at him. "For asking me to dance."

"You're welcome, sorry I took so long." He smiles sheepishly, as he lifts her from around the waist, twirling her around in time with the crowd they dance with. "I was nervous."

"Why were you nervous?" She smiles up at him, and he returns the gesture, leaning forward, pressing their foreheads together. "Because I like you."

She smiles wider, leaning closer, helped by the hand curled around the small of her back and pressing her in closer. She presses against him, tucking her head against the curve of his neck, and his chuckles rumble against her ear. "Careful, others might get suspicious, what if your father sees?"

"Then take us somewhere farther so he doesn't."

He nods, leading her farther into the crowd, until they come out on the other side, sneaking behind a few pillars, until they're nearly on their own, the only company they have are the guards at the door.

She raises her arms, curling her fingers around his neck lightly, and he curls his around her waist. Well hidden in the shadows, there's no worry that others might see, the guards were silent sentries, they'd keep silent on anything they saw so long as it wasn't posed as a threat to them or their home.

He presses their foreheads together. "Is it okay if I kiss you?"

"So long as it's okay if I kiss you back." She nods, tilting her head upwards, and he tilts his down, until their lips meet, it starts out softly, until it changes into something a bit more passionate. His fingers glide up from her hips, over her slim frame, to curl around the back of her neck gently. He pulls back, so they can both take a breath, and brushes his nose against hers. "I love you."

She smiles, leaning up to nip at his lower lip. "I love you, too." He leans forward, kissing her nose softly. "The music's stopped."

_"Iaso?"_

"My dad's coming." She kisses him one last time. "You have to go."

"I know." He returns their parting kiss. "I'll see you soon."

They both hear the soft sound of boots heading their way, he smiles down at her one last time, and scurries off into the shadows, she turns, watching him despite the camouflage, as he appears back at his guardian's side. Titus smiles down at him, rubbing his head softly, as he turns back to the conversation he had been having.

"Iaso, there you are."

The Nephilim turns and smiles. "I'm here, dad."

…

It was not unbelievable to see a nephilim walking the Axis, after discovering their relationship and existence, the angels had been rather responsible in seeking out any children they may have, and with this reunification there was bound to be a number of Nephilim seen walking through the Holy City.

So no one thought anything of it as they watched a young Nephilim make the trek up the stone path to the Garden, it was a bit odd given the time of night, but they thought nothing of it, if their parent allowed them to be out this late then there was nothing to be said on the matter, and they went about their way.

She smiled to herself as she made her way down the dirt path towards the center of the Garden, where they met every time they got together, safely away from any prying eyes.

"Ia!" She yells in surprise when she's swept up off her feet, held above in the air, arms circling under her. She smiles down at him as he smiles up at her, holding her up above him, she caresses his cheeks and bends forward to press her lips to his. "I missed you."

He twirls her around under the stars before letting her down, curling his arms around her lower back instead, he leans down to press their foreheads together. "How are you?"

The Nephilim smiles up at him. "Better now."

"Better now that we're together?"

She nods, tilting her head upwards to press a kiss to his lower lip. "How about you?"

"My night has been made."

He leans forward, brushing his lips to hers softly, and she leans into him. "What are we going to do now?"

"We can do anything you want."

"I want to kiss you." He smiles down at her, her electric blue eyes peering into his, and he leans down again to press his lips to hers, it's a soft kiss, a gentle gesture, that slowly begins to build, the passion growing. His hands glide up around her frame to curl around the back of her neck, her hands gliding up to curl around his cheeks, as their kissing grows deeper. There's only one way this could go, and he pulls back slightly, taking in a breath. "Are you sure?" She nods and catches his lips again, and he leans into her, pulling her closer.

She leans forward, pressing against his front, raising onto her toes to get to him easier, he was just so tall. He smiles into their kiss, his hands gliding down from behind her neck, and hooked under her arms. She smiled, giggling softly, when he bent at the knee and lifted her up, she jumped up a bit and curled her legs around his waist, curling her fingers around the crook of his shoulders as she leaned down to kiss him anew. He holds her up, arms curled under her, as they lean into each other.

He turns them around, carrying her to where he'd sat waiting for her, and falls to his knees lightly, bending forward to set her on her back. Her hands are the ones to wander first, he doesn't want to make the first move in the even that she's changed her mind, fingers curling around the belt around his waist, tugging it undone. He curls his fingers around the hem of her t'shirt, breaking away from their kiss, to tug her shirt up and over her head, tossing it to the side as she pulls him back down, her fingers curled gently in his curls.

Her fingers glide over his shoulders, curling into his tunic, and he pulls back again when she tugs on his tunic, giving her the access she needs to pull it over her head, tossing it in the same direction he'd thrown hers when he lowers himself again to catch her lips with his.

The young guard curls his fingers around her waist again, and she grips his shoulders, as he spins them around, with him lying on the soft grass and her laying over top of him. He kisses a trail down from her lips, down her neck and over her shoulder, she shivers against him, fingers curling in his curls, as his hands glide around her, fingers curling around the latch of her bra, undoing the little latches, she pushes herself up as he pulls her bra straps down from her shoulders gently, tossing it aside with their shirts, leaving them completely topless in the soft grass.

He curls his fingers around her cheeks, kissing her deeply for a moment more, and pulls away from her for a moment, both of their chests heaving for a breath. "Are you sure, Ia?"

"I'm sure, Andre."

He nods. "There's a hot spring around that tree."

"Carry me."

He nods again, and they pull apart slightly so they can clamber to their feet, he steps forward first, curling his fingers around her middle, and she jumps up as he lifts her, curling her legs around his waist, she kisses the side of his neck softly as he carries them forward, just beyond the tree, and he hums deeply when she bites in gently. True to his word, there's a hot spring beyond the far trees, it bubbles softly and steams around them, the stars illuminate the clearing in their glow and he sets her down as she unwinds her legs from around his waist.

Andre watches her reach inward for the button on her jeans. "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking my pants off."

He smiles, reaching for the button keeping his trousers in place, undoing them quickly, as she kicks her jeans off and waits impatiently for him to do the same. She slams into him when he stands back up, and their passion comes back full force, skin against skin, in the steam of the hot spring. He curls his fingers around the hem of her panties and kneels slowly, kissing down her neck, the middle of her breasts, and down her stomach to her waist, as he pulls them down, she steps out of them, groaning lightly when he bites her hip gently, kissing back up again, to meet her lips once more. He curls his fingers around her middle again, hopping her up to his waist, and she curls her legs around him again, hands curled around his cheeks as she kissed him deeply. He steps down into the hot spring carefully, the water gathers around his knees as he stands on the edge, then down into the spring itself, the water pulling around his lower chest, and he sits back on the smooth stone seat built into the side of the spring.

Iaso curls her legs up, resting on her knees, over his lap, his legs spread slightly, leaning against his bare chest as she leans into the kiss.

His hands glide down her form, down her neck, over her breasts, down to her hips, and he digs his thumbs into the hollow of her hips. She groans against him, pressing closer, and he kisses the side of her neck softly, biting into the smooth skin tenderly, she groans again when he digs his thumbs in again. She arches her back slightly, and he kisses down to her right breast, biting her nipple gently, her fingers curl into his curls lightly. He looks up at her, she's curled over him, fingers still curled in his curls, her breasts rubbing against his cheeks softly. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Andre nods, smiling softly up to her, and presses his lips to her chest as he grinds up against her. She groans deeply, when he sucks on one of her nipples lightly, kissing up her breast to bite into her neck, grinding up again. She grinds against him in the same moment that he grinds against her, and he feels himself enter. She arches her back again, and they both groan at the same time, rolling together in a tune all their own. The steam from the hot spring coats their skin, making the ends of their curls stick to their shoulders.

Iaso moans softly when he sucks on her left nipple, biting into the flesh of her breast lightly, and she lifts his head with her fingers as they dip in again. "I love you."

The young guard smiles up at her, grinding in deeper than the last one, and she groans deeply as she presses her lips to his. "I love you, too."

The love they make is sweet and tender, passionate and deep, and something they can never ever tell their respective guardians about. He explores her body, in a manner that would get him killed if her father ever found out, and she explores his in a manner her father would never approve of.

They end up curled together, two naked bodies in a spring of steaming water, he brushes her curls back tenderly, brushing his thumb over her cheek lightly, she sighs contentedly, tracing her finger over a scar on his chest. "I could lay here all night." He smiles, leaning down to kiss her forehead gently. "Does your dad know you're here?"

"No." She shakes her head. "I'm not supposed to see him until tomorrow."

"You came all this way just to see little ole me?"

"Always."

…

_"AVA!" _She sprints down the hall, from her room to her friends, hands shaking frantically, as she slams her best friend's door open. Ava jumps from her bed at the sudden appearance of her life long best friend, as Iaso runs through her door, slamming it shut behind her, eyes wide as she rests back on the wooden door behind her. "Ava!"

"What!" She jumps, ready for anything. "What!"

"Ava, this is _sooo_ bad!"

"What is it! What!" She hops slightly. "Don't leave me hanging!"

"I'm late! Oh, Grandfather, I'm _late_!" Iaso buries her fingers in her curls and tugs on them firmly. "My dad is going to _kill _me!"

"Late?" She tilts her head slightly. "What exactly do you mean that you're late?"

The dark toned Nephilim grabs her shoulders and shakes, Ava yelps, reaching out to grasp her friend's shoulders in turn to stabilize them both. "Ava, I'm _late_. Three weeks _late_."

Her friends eyes widen as it finally dawns on her. "_Oh. My. God."_


	123. Sleeping Soundly

Sabaoth watched him with the eye of a careful older brother, as his shoulders hunched up, seemingly sinking in on himself, Sorath had been rather quiet since the start of their shift earlier that morning. He elbows his brother in the side gently, Osmadiel turns to him inquisitively, and he nods at the younger guard sitting on his stool before him. The other guard leans forward, nodding in understanding, to spy on the youngest guard with care.

He sits back with a smile, leaning over to the oldest guard carefully, speaking softly as to not disturb the younger one. "He's sleeping."

The oldest guard shakes his head slightly, a fond and amused smile overcoming his features. "Someone stayed up later then they should have playing last night." He reaches forward, curling his fingers around the youngest guards shoulders, cooing softly when he pulls him back, and the young angel starts to wake, urging him back to sleep as he settles back against him, tucked into the crook of his shoulder, Sabaoth curls his arms around the younger angels waist and pulls him closer.

Sorath yawns softly, and nods against his shoulder, his fluffy hair rubbing against the side of his chin.

Their prisoner snorts condescendingly, and he turns a quick glare into his cell, taking favor in the chill that crawls down the scribe's spine and the way he shivers as it does. "You wake him up, and I'll _beat_ you."

Their youngest friend sleep for most of the day, leaning back against the one he considered a close older brother, tucked into his shoulder. He comes to consciousness to the sound of soft rumbling words coming from the chest he was laying back against, he yawns again, rubbing his eyes slightly, and looks around.

Rahab waves at him with a bright smile.

Osmadiel smiles at him softly, nodding his head slightly.

The chest rumbles under him again and a bristly bearded chin rubs against the side of his forehead. "Good morning, sleepyhead."

"Hmmm…" He rubs at his eyes again. "How long was I asleep?"

"For a fair portion of the day. You stayed up late playing, didn't you?"

He nods sheepishly and sighs, leaning back against his older brother again, Sabaoth doesn't seem to mind, resting his chin on top of his head and turning back to the conversation he had been having with Osmadiel next to him. Sorath inevitably falls back to sleep once more, tucked back against his older brother.

Sabaoth smiles when he feels his breathing even out. "Is he asleep?"

Osmadiel leans forward, smiling slightly, and looks back with a nod. "Fast asleep."

…

"Tus!" The Power turns at the sound of his name being called, grunting as he's forced a step back when a body slams into his, laughing softly as he curls his arms around the smaller angel in turn. "You're back!"

"Well, hello, little angel." Large warm fingers rub through the hair on the back of his head. "I didn't think I'd be missed this much."

"I missed you a lot!"

Nisroc chuckles next to them, and he turns to look up at him, smiling lightly as he stroked his fingers through the dark light locks of the young prison guard. "He's asked about your return for nearly the entire duration of your absence."

Titus smiles at the admission, looking down to his youngest guard, brushing his lips over the top of his forehead. "I missed you too, Sora."

"You did?" The young guard pulls back slightly, looking up at him with wide piercing eyes, smiling brightly at his captain's return. "You really missed me?"

"Of course, I missed you, you're my little angel, how could I not?"

"I'm so happy you're back!" The young guard curls around him again. "I missed you so much!"

"I'm glad, little angel." He pets the back of his guard's head lightly. "Did you behave yourself?"

Sorath nods quickly. "I was really good! I didn't get into any fights or anything! Metatron made me mad, I'm sorry, I hit him, but Saba made it all better again! He helped me with my Legos and read to me! You have to see, Tus, we finished the big one! It's so cool! It's a dragon!"

"I see, you'll have to show me."

"Can I show you now?" The young guard pulls back slightly, tugging at his arm. "Can I?"

Nisroc chuckles at him, waving them along. "Don't keep your boy waiting."

Titus chuckles softly, nodding to his young guard, letting him tug him forward for the stairs down from the Pavilion. He nodded along to his words as he chattered, walking at his side, fingers curled into the sleeve of his tunic, leading him forward to his room to show him this magnificent dragon.

"Tus!" A small flash of red appears from a doorway and he grunted again as another small body rammed into his side, he smiled though, curling his arm down around her, and kissed the top of her head fondly. "You're back! Did'cha miss us?"

"Of course, I missed you, Ra." He squeezes her closer for a moment. "Did you miss me?"

"More than anything!"

"Awww, thanks, baby girl."

Rahab smiles up at him, then to the younger guard hanging on to his sleeve. "Is Sora going to show you his dragon?" She giggles when he nods excitedly. "It's really cool Tus! Sora and Saba worked on it so hard!"

"Did they?"

"They did!"

He chuckles softly. "I'll have to see this dragon for myself then, I don't want to miss out on anything."

Rahab bounces lightly, pulling herself out from under his arm, and nods excitedly. "Show him, Sora, he's gonna love it!"

"I will! I will!"

She smiles brightly and retreats back into her room. Sorath takes that as his opportunity to tug him forward again, chattering on excitedly about everything him and Saba had done while he was gone, tugging him into his room to see his treasured dragon.

"See!" He's tugged over to stand before the shelf that contains his Lego creation. "It's it cool!"

"It's mighty interesting, Sora." He tugs the little guard into his side. "Did you do this all by yourself?"

"No, Saba helped!"

"He did?"

"I did." They both turn to the doorway, Sabaoth smiles at them, leaning against the doorframe. "Welcome back."

Titus smiles at him, scratching at the young guards arm lightly from where he's positioned against his side. "You kept an eye on him?"

The older guard nods, pushing away from the doorframe, and enters the room. "I did, we had one incident, but otherwise he was on his best behavior."

He looks down at the younger guard against his side. "That's what I like to hear, little angel, perhaps another trip to a toy store is in order."

Sorath bounces slightly in excitement. "Really? Really, Tus?"

"Sure, good little angels get new toys, and you've been a good little angel."

He pumps his fist, bouncing again in excitement, and they both chuckle at the young guard in their midst.

Sabaoth crosses behind them, coming to stand behind the young guard, and reaches his arms around him. "We also made new discoveries."

Titus tilts his head, smiling slightly at the two of them, his mind whirling at the possibilities the new discovery could be. "New discoveries?"

The elder guard nods, wiggling his fingers into the younger guard's sides, Sorath shrieks, squirming against his older brothers grip. Titus chuckles, pulling away, watching fondly, as the older guard tugs him back into his chest, curling his arms around him, digging his fingers into the sides of his belly, Sorath shrieks, folding back against his older brother in a fit of laughter. "New discoveries, indeed."

"Oh, Sora, you found someone you trusted enough to tell them your secret?" Sorath squirms, laughing freely, trying to pull away from the fingers wiggling over his belly. "I'm happy for you, little angel."

Titus turns to face them, coming to stand in front of his two guards, he smiles down at the younger of the two. "I haven't gotten to give you tickles in the better part of two weeks." He wiggles his fingers down at him and the youngest guard shrinks back with wide shining eyes. "Let me catch up."

…

He was ready for bed, settling down under the covers, leaning back against his pillows, a book in hand, ready to just take in the feeling that was being back in his room, in his home, with his family. He had his fun with his little angel, made him nice and giggly, before tucking him into bed. He'd seen to his other guards, making sure that they knew he was back, and they'd been just as excited to see him as Rahab had been, though none so much as Sorath had been.

He's washed up, in their own wash room, changed into new clean clothes, and prepared himself for a quiet night in his own bed, in his own room, surrounded by the ones he loved.

Taking a sip from the glass of juice on his bedside table, he settled back in his pillows, and opened the book in his lap, and it was over the edge of the book that he noticed his door open slightly. Lowering the book, frowning slightly in confusion and wonder, he gazed imploringly at the door to see who had come for him.

Sighing softly, he lowered his book completely, when he finally took in the sight that awaited him.

Sorath stood there, hugging his stuffed dolphin to his chest, looking very much like a fledgling that had been caught out of bed after bedtime.

"Sora?" He sets his book in his lap. "Is everything okay?"

He nods softly, shrinking into his dolphin, mumbling softly.

"If everything's okay, then you should be in bed." Titus crosses his arms loosely. "I already tucked you in, Sora, I'm not coming down to do it a second time."

"No, no, I just…" The young guard tugs at the dorsal fin of his dolphin friend. "I just really missed you, Tus."

"Ah, I see," the Power nods softly, scooting over to the other side of the bed, pulling the corner of the blankets down. "Do you want to sleep here tonight?"

Sorath nods shyly. "Yes, please."

"Then, come here, little angel." He pats the free side of the bed. "Climb in."

The youngest guard smiles, scurrying from the door to the bed, climbing under the blankets, he lays next to his captain stiffly. He's having none of that.

Titus brushes his hair back. "Loosen up, baby angel, come'ere." He tugs on the guards sleeve gently. "Come on, get comfortable." Sorath smiles shyly and ducks under his arm, the one that was raised for him to do just that, and settles against his side, stuffed dolphin tucked under his arm, head resting on the side of his chest, he nuzzles closer comfortably.

The Power smiles softly, scratching his fingers over the young guards shoulder, and opens his book again. "I'll read to you, but you better be asleep by the end of the chapter, got it?"

Sorath nods, yawning softly. "Okay, Tus."

"Good angel."

He's asleep by the third page, his dolphin curled in his arm, the fingers of his free hand curled lightly in the Power's tunic, Titus looks down at him, smiling softly. He reaches up, scratching lightly at his head, Sorath mumbles and nuzzles closer. "Sleep well, baby angel." He reads on a bit longer, his head resting against the young guards, before he sets his book aside, turns down the oil lamp, and settles down with his young guard for a good night's rest.


	124. Confrontations In The Garden

They're found in the Garden, laying out in a patch of sun, the Gardener spread out on his back, limbs spread out, and laying over top of him is his little gardening charge. Her curls braided back into two twin braids, pulled over her shoulders, as they laid together, basking in the warm sunlight together. He sighs deeply, turning his arms over, curling his fingers down around the smaller ones resting over top of his palms. It had been nearly three weeks since he was given clearance from the Healer to return to his Garden, and he was basking in it, he missed his plants and fauna, his little flower child was taking her opportunity to spend every waking moment she could with him.

He didn't mind, he liked spending time with her, she was his little flower child.

"Josh, it's hot."

"You're hot?" He wiggles his fingers up her side gently and she giggles. "_I'm _the one being laid on in this summer heat."

"But, I'm still hot."

He chuckles softly. "We could go cool down in the pond."

"Nah," she falls back dramatically, falling limp over him. "That would mean I have to move and I don't want to do that."

"Let's go cool down." He shifts out from under her, sitting up, sending her limp form tumbling over into the grass beside him. Chuckling softly, once more, he climbs to his feet, kneeling down, he tugs the limp form of the younger gardener up, pulling her up over his shoulder. She yelps as she's tugged forward, her fingers curling into the back of his tunic, he pats her thigh lightly as he carries her forward. He toes his boots off at the edge of a small wooden dock that struts out into the pond.

Their pond is large, it's deep, it's more of a lake really, but they refer to it as a pond.

He tugs her boots off and tosses them down next to his, as he walks his way onto the small wooden dock, coming to stand at the edge, he bends forward, pulling her from over his shoulder, and she yells as she falls backwards, winding her arms out, and creates a rather decent sized splash as she finally hits the water. She disappears for a few moments, and he crosses his arms as he waits for her to surface, smiling in amusement when she does, and spits out a stream of water from her mouth, glaring up at him from her place floating in the large deep pond. "Feel better?"

"I hate you."

"No, you don't." He steps forward, off the wooden dock, and falls forward into the cool water. Eiael waits for him to resurface before latching onto him, the pond is too deep for her to reach the bottom, but Joshua can, he feels his toes squish into the soft bottom of the pond as the little gardener curls around him, her legs curling around his waist, her arms around his shoulders. He smiles at her, leaning forward to peck her nose. "You love me."

She tries to keep a straight face, tries to keep up a guise, but she can't manage it when he leans forward again. She giggles, despite her attempt to remain stoic, a smile spreads over her features as she tries to lean away from him, but he follows, managing to keep up with her, and she smiles and giggles as he pecks her on the nose again. "You know you love me."

She nods, giggling lightly. "I love you, Josh."

He chuckles. "I knew it." And tightens his grip around her. "You ready?"

Eiael's eyes widen and she shakes her head. "Josh, don't."

"We're going down."

"Don't you dare."

"Take a deep breath."

He kicks his feet up, her eyes widen for a moment before they squeeze shut, taking a deep breath, as the water rushes up to cover them. The water of their pond is crystal clear, water in its purest form, and doesn't burn his eyes too much when he opens them under water to watch his little butterfly. Eiael blinks her eyes once, as if to acclimate them to the water they're in, and then stares back at him. He smiles at her, looking up as he gains his footing again, standing back up, they rise through the surface of the water.

The older Gardener laughs softly at her expression, it feels wonderful to be able to play with her like this again, he was going stir crazy being confined to that bed in the Infirmary.

He leans his forehead against hers, spinning them softly in a circle in the water of their pond, and smiles when she puckers up her lips and presses a kiss to his nose. "What should we have for supper, baby bug?"

"I don't know…..." She shrugs her shoulders softly. "We never got to have that grilled salmon."

"We can have it tonight."

"And your pie?"

Joshua chuckles lightly. "Yes, I'll make pie. But you have to collect the vegetables."

She makes a face. "Do we need to have vegetables?" Shivering in mock disgust she makes another face. "They're yucky."

"Yes," He nods lightly. "We need to have vegetables."

"Can they be steamed vegetables?"

"Of course, they can be, baby bug."

She smiles in agreement and nods. "Okay, I'll collect the vegetables."

"Good bug." Joshua carries her from deep middle of the pond to the shallows , where he knows she can reach the bottom, and sets her down on her feet. Eiael curls around his arm as they walk out of the water together, dripping into the sandy shore, and then into the soft warm grass under them, the trees rustle in the slight breeze that dances around them. The heat is starting to taper off as the sun begins to set, a nice chill settles over the Garden as dusk takes it's turn. "You go get cleaned up and I'll get the fire going."

Eiael nods quickly, darting off for the trees, disappearing into the shadow that is slowly forming around them.

He gather's logs and kindling, to get the fire roaring for cooking and warmth, he kneels over their fire pit and sets the logs in the way he needs them to be, lighting them with a flick of his wrist, he tended to the fire gently.

Eiael hops back towards them, the basket of vegetable on her arm, and plops own next to him. He chuckles, reaching back to tap her cheek lightly. "Not too close to the fire, baby butterfly." She giggles and scoots back twice a pace. Shaking his head, he stands, ruffling her curls lightly. "I'm going to go clean the fish and wash up, you ready the vegetables."

"Okay, Josh."

She crosses her legs and sets the basket between them, peeling the potato silently, smiling to himself, he leaves her there, heading for the entrance of their tree house to do as he said he was.

Eia giggles when a cool snout brushes against her leg, and she looks over to greet her canine friend, Dahlia barks at her happily and licks her cheek. "Hi, Dali." She dangles a potato peel in front of her hound. "You want one?" She barks again, sitting down politely, watching the peel dangle precariously in front of her. "Shake." The little gardener holds her hand out and her faithful companion places her paw over her palm. "Good girl!" Eia tosses the peel up and Dahlia jumps up to grab it.

"What have I said about giving her potato peels?"

She smiles up at the elder Gardener when he comes to stand at her side. "That starch is bad."

"Right," he shakes his head fondly as he kneels to place the salmon on the rack above their fire. "So, don't give her any, how many times do I have to tell you that."

"At least a few more."

He sets the salmon to cook, and sits back at her side, lifting his arm for her to curl under. "You're a cheeky little mouse."

She sticks her tongue out up at him. "You love me this way."

He dances his fingers into her open side and she shrieks, squirming against his side, and he chuckles down at her fondly. "I do." Reaching for the basket in her lap, he sets the vegetables over the rack to steam, just as she likes them.

Eiael curls back against his side as he leans back, basking in the warmth of the fire in the cool Garden's night, watching the flames dance under their cooking rack. "You made the pie too, right?"

"It's inside."

The little gardener hugs against his side. "You're the best Josh." He smiles down at her, poking her nose with his free hand. "I'm happy you're better again."

"Me too, baby bug, I missed this."

…

They're tending to the new patch when he finds them, Joshua looks up at his approach, smiling slightly, it's a strained smile, he's forgiven them for what they'd done to his little bug, but she hadn't not all of them, especially _him_, and he turns to peer at her from over his shoulder, she hasn't noticed his being there yet.

"What brings you here, Oren?"

He steps away from the tree he was tending to, to greet the Virtue's Captain, they share a brief embrace, and he watches his eyes wander over to where the flower child is blooming a patch of new orchids at the base of one of the new trees.

"I wanted to come see how you were doing," he smiles at his younger brother. "It's only been a short amount of time since you've recovered, after all."

"I am well, me and Eia went swimming the other day, we finally had that salmon." He spies his flower child from over his shoulder, her shoulders are tense, she knows Oren's here. He feels the atmosphere in the Garden shift around them, and he knows his brother feels it with him, as he looks around in concern and confusion. Joshua turns slightly, facing her a bit more directly, watching with apt attention as the flowers under her fingers begin to wither and wilt. Oren smiles at him, shaking off the change in atmosphere, following his gaze to the little gardener with her back turned to them. "That's great to hear, Josh, just make sure you're not doing anything too strenuous." He smiles at the back of the flower child's head. "Hello Eiael."

Her fingers curl into fists. "You don't get to do that."

"Do what?"

She turns to glare at him from over her shoulder, and he blinks at the heat in that glare, it's smoldering. "You don't get to come in here and _pretend _that everything's _fine_."

"Eia, I know what I did was wrong, but, I hate to be so blunt, you just need to get over it." He raises a hand slightly. "It happened and nothing can change that."

She jumps up, around, her fists clenching at her sides. "Did you just tell me to _'get over it'_?"

"You need to."

Joshua backs up a step as she stalks forward, not wanting to get between them, this was something that they had to hash out together. It was between them. The two of them, him and Oren, had already settled their dispute.

"Like you got over Raph being killed!"

It's a low blow, he's not even sure how she knows about that, but she does, and she just threw it in his face.

"You didn't get over it! And you're _older_ them me!" She thrusts a finger out at him, and the trees rock as though swayed by an unseen wind, the grass waves underfoot. "At least I didn't _kill _myself like a coward!"

"That's too far, young lady!"

"No, _no, _you know what was too far?" She throws her hands out, and the leaves on the trees they just created begin to fall, as though autumn has come early, her temper flaring in the fauna around them. "Holding me over the edge! Saying that I deserved it when _he _exiled me from _his _flock! _Spitting in my face _when I begged you for help!" Joshua crosses his arms lightly, leaning back against one of the trees, it stands straighter, the limbs lift, and the leaves begin to form again. "You're a _healer_! Healers are supposed to _help _people! You _were _my older brother!"

Oren crosses his arms, anger burning in his eyes, at the treatment.

"It's like you don't even _care!" _She jumps forward, her hands outstretched, and shoves him harshly in the chest. "You still think it was right, don't you!" She shoves him again. "You'd do it again in a heartbeat, wouldn't you!" She shoves him again and this time he stumbles a bit. "You'd hold me over the edge without a second thought, if you had to again, wouldn't you!"

"I—"

"You would, wouldn't you! Do you remember, remember me hanging onto you, crying and begging to know what I had done wrong! Begging you to hold on!" She shoves him again, and he trips over a tree root, it wasn't there before. "You remember what you said to me? Remember what my _biggest brother _said?" She kneels before him, flicking her fingers around the tree root, and it disappears back into the soil. "You said that traitors deserve to be exiled."

Eiael stands again. "You left your family because you were weak, I left against my will, for something I hadn't even _done_, if anyone's the traitor, it's you. A traitor against your station, against yourself, and against your family." She spits down at him. "Don't you _ever _tell me to just '_get over it'_! You can't get over taking charge, those scars on your arms are proof enough, I may be in agonizing pain, but I would never mutilate myself."

"Eiael, that's too far." Joshua finally cuts in, his arms crossed loosely over his chest, she spins on him, green eyes blazing with fury, but his unphased, she knows better to come at him even in this state. "Why are you _defending _him!" He shakes his head. "I'm not, I think what he did was disgusting and horribly wrong, but going after his personal traumas is going too far. Stay away from it."

"Why should I!"

He narrows his eyes slightly. "Because I _said _to."

Taking a deep, angry breath, she jerks her head in a nod. She's not dumb enough to stand against Josh, he could take her even in his weakest state, he has before, and he would again.

"You have no idea what I went through."

She turns back to the Virtue, he's standing again, dusting the dirt off his trousers. She pulls her fist up, pulls it back, and throws it around. His head whips to the side, a crack echoing around the garden, she snarls at him, Joshua sighs from behind her, and Oren turns back around as he feels at his jaw.

Tears are gathering in her eyes.

"You have no idea what _I _went through." She rubs at her knuckles roughly, they sting now, his face is hard. "Do you know how _lonely _it was? Do you know how _scared _I was? I was on my own, in a world I didn't know, and had no one there to protect me. The last thing I remembered was seeing my _guardian _being held back by two guards, my _archangel _looking at me as though I was evil incarnate, and my _oldest brother _holding me over the edge." He pops his jaw back into place and pushes his grace into it to mend the bone. "You turned on me, and then you _replaced _me, like I meant nothing to you! Did you really _hate _me that much!"

He frowns lightly. "I don't hate you."

"Then, how could you let me _go_! How could you turn on me like that! I trusted you! I _trusted _you! And you took _everything _from me without so much as a second thought! Why wasn't I good enough!" She shoves him again, because punching him made her hand hurt, so they're back to shoving. "_Why wasn't I good enough!"_ She shoves him again. "And you don't even _care_! You just pretend that everything's fine, when it's not, because you _want _it to be!"

"I do care."

"No, you _don't_!" Eiael rubs at her face hotly, wiping away tears that fell without her permission, and reaches up to bury her fingers in her curls. "If you _cared _you wouldn't have done it! If you _cared _you wouldn't have pushed me over the edge! If you _cared_ you wouldn't have _replaced me _so easily! If you _cared _you wouldn't have ignored me since I got back!"

"Ignoring you, I'm not ignoring you." He catches her fist when it comes back around for a second swing. "I didn't replace you either." Oren catches her other fist mid swing. "You were right though, I was a coward, I was more afraid for my own safety then I was for my little bunny's."

"You don't get to call me that!"

"I haven't been ignoring you." He sighs and holds her fists above her head to keep them out of reach. "I just…I didn't know how to approach you, so you're right, again, I was trying to pretend nothing had happened. It was wrong of me. But I didn't know how else to approach you."

"So, you pretended you didn't c_are_!"

"I did, and I'm sorry, little bunny, I shouldn't have." He pulls her closer to him, trapping her against him when she tries to kick him, she screams angrily and thrashes but he holds her tightly. "I shouldn't have let you go, Eia, and nothing I say is going to make up for the fact that I did, that I _did_ let you go, that I _did_ turn my back on you. But, I promise you, I'm never letting you go again."

"Let me go!"

"I won't. Never again."

She breaths out a sob, tugging her fists free, first she throws them at him, banging them against his chest, but he curls his arms around her tightly, and after a minute of attacking, she clutches at his tunic, sobbing into his chest, deep heaving sobs that cause her shoulders to quake and her knees to give out.

Joshua sighs sadly from his place against the tree, but let's this go, Oren needs to do this.

Oren does handle it, he lifts her off her feet as he knees give out, pulling her up into his arms, and she curls around him, sobbing into his neck. He sways from side to side, rubbing at her back soothingly, and she sobs until she can't sob anymore, sniffling against his neck, her head resting on his shoulder. "I could never replace you, you're my baby bunny, I'm sorry if you thought I had." She nods quietly. "I love you so much, baby bunny, I'm so sorry for letting you go. I promise never to let you go again."

"You swear?" She mumbles against his neck, and he nods. "Cross my heart."

He hears a small sniffle. "I love you, Ori."

"I love you too, baby bunny."


	125. Making New Discoveries

"Okay, I'm back, I got it." Ava slipped into her room, carefully closing the door behind her, she holds the folded brown paper bag out to her friend. "No one followed me, I think Anubis saw me with the bag, but I don't think he wanted to know what was in it." It played in their favor that the young Nephilim had the habit of sneaking in live creatures in any sort of covering she could think of, to see her carrying a brown paper bag could mean any sort of possibilities, as long as it wasn't a Viper like it had been last time, the Egyptian didn't very much care what was brought into his Temple.

Iaso reaches for the paper bag being held out to her, and sets it down on her lap, staring at it for a long moment. "This is it. This is when we find out." She rubs her nose with her sleeve. "Grandfather, I'm so scared, Ava. I mean, I'm only sixteen, and there's no telling if he'll want to keep it either, and I don't believe in abortion and…...What if this messes everything up."

"Hey, hey," her friend sits next to her, curling an arm around her shoulders, they lean in against each other. "I'll always be here. If you are, _if_, you're going to be a great mom. And I, I will be a magnificent Aunt."

That brings a soft snort from her friend, and she smiles at the sound of it, Iaso rubs her nose again and nods, unfolding the top of the bag in for her order to reach in for its contents. She almost wishes it _was _a Viper again, she'd take that over this any day. She curls her fingers around the small rectangular box and pulls it from the bag, staring down at the big white letters that spelled out '_Pregnancy Test' _on the front.

Ava squeezes her shoulders. "You can do this."

Nodding to herself, at the assurance of her best friend in the whole wide world, Iaso stands from the edge of the bed and walks slowly across the spacious room for the adjoining bathroom on the other end, sparing her friend a small smile over her shoulder, she steps into the spacious bathroom and slides the door closed.

Pausing just inside the closed bathroom door, staring down at the purple and white box in her hands, she inhales deeply and turns the box over, untucking the flap on the side, she pulls the small white stick from within, staring down at it again, she sets the box to rest on the small table next to her, beside the cacti plant's pot, and crosses to the toilet. Setting the small white testing stick on the edge of the vanity, she undoes the button of her shorts, taking another deep breath as she tugs her shorts down to just below her knees. Sitting on the toilet, she grabs the small testing stick again, taking another deep breath, she reaches down between her legs and exhales as she pees on it. She reaches up to set the completed test on the edge of the vanity again to clean herself up, pulling up her shorts and buttoning them back up, she washes her hands in the sink, and grabs the test up carefully.

There's a line, and she inhales, the test is working.

She steps back against the wall, sliding down slowly to sit with her back resting against it, knees tucked up against her chest, she sets the small white stick on top of her knees, and stares down at it for the few minutes it takes for it to complete itself, waiting on baited breath for the results, part of her praying that it will read negative, and a small, miniscule part hoping for positive.

She waits five minutes, averting her eyes three minutes in, and looks back up three minutes later.

There's a line, and she inhales, her eyes stinging with unshed tears as they gather. She curls her left hand around her mouth, and breaths out a soft sob into her fingers, tilting the test up with the fingers of her other hand to see if she's read it correctly, and another sob falls through her fingers when the result she saw doesn't change.

There's a soft knock on the bathroom door. _"Ia? Are you okay? Can I come in?" _Her call for entrance is interrupted by a sob and the door opens, her friend stares at her for a moment before rushing forward, falling to her knees in front of her, her friends fingers are limp when she reaches for the test in her hand, pulling it over for her to see, and her eyes widen at the two lines.

It's confirmed. Their thoughts have been confirmed as true.

"Oh, Ia, it'll be okay." She sets the test aside, reaching forward, leaning on her knees, to curl her arms around her friend. Iaso drops her knees, legs straightening out, Ava curls her arms around her best friend to comfort her. "It'll be okay, Ia, you have a big family to help you out."

"But…But what if they don't?" Ava sits back, reaching over to the side to grab a hand towel for her friend to wipe her face on, Iaso nods in thanks. "What do you mean, Ia?"

Iaso sniffles pitifully and curls her arms around herself. "I never…I never told dad because I didn't want him to feel guilty…."

"Told him what?"

"Ava," her eyes lift to meet those of her partner. "I grew up in a patriarchal village in Africa, where woman were given to men to marry and have their children, when my mom….When my mom got pregnant…She was ostracized for it….Because she wasn't marriageable anymore….Everyone turned their backs on us…Even my mom's own family….They were so _horrible _to her because she was pregnant and wouldn't say who the father was...What if the same happens to me?" Her eyes water again. "What if my dad turns his back on me, my brothers, everyone turns their back on my like my mom's family did to her?"

"They would never do that." Ava takes the towel from her gently, rubbing at her friends cheeks softly, collecting the tears. "They don't have that thought process, the one that the elders in your village did, they love you no matter what."

"What if he turns away?" Iaso whispers softly, looking down to her lap. "I don't think he ever wanted to have a baby."

"Girl, he _adores _you, someone would have to kill him before he ever left your side. I mean, sure, no one really ever _plans _for a baby, but that wouldn't cause him to turn his back on you."

"You swear?"

"If he does, I'll kill him, with zero hesitation."

That caused her friend to smile, it was a small wet smile, but it was something. "You would?"

"Sure, I would. I'd kill your dad too, if he did, even if I died in the process, I go out trying."

Iaso laughs softly, a wet, choked sound, and she wipes at her face again with the towel. "You can't tell anyone, Ava, not your dad, not Anu, no one."

Ava frowns. "Why not?"

"Because they'll be _so _mad and I don't want that. No one can know."

"Andre deserves to know."

"No one can know other then you and Andre."

"I think it's a bad idea." She nods though. "But, okay." She pauses a moment. "Can I be the one to plan the shower?"

* * *

Andre looks up at the knock on his door, watching as the wooden door is opened quietly, she steps in, and closed behind her.

He stands from the bed to meet her.

"Ia, what are you doing here?" He curls his arms around her waist and she clutches to his front tightly. "Someone could have seen you."

"No one was there, and I had to tell you something, so I could wait."

"Tell me what?" He leans down to press his forehead to hers, and she stares up at him with wide, unsure eyes. "Is everything okay?"

She takes a deep breath. "Promise you would never turn your back on me?"

"Of course," he nods firmly. "I love you too much to do that to you."

Nodding, the Nephilim builds up her courage, and he waist patiently. "Andre, I missed my period."

He tilts his head. "What?"

"I'm late."

"I don't...I'm not quiet understanding."

"Oh, my god, I'm _pregnant."_

They stare at each other for a moment, one fearing the worst, and the other trying to wrap his mind around the new development. Andre stares off into space, mumbling to himself, trying to comprehend what he's just been told.

she pokes his cheek lightly. "Andre, say something."

It slowly comes to process, and he looks back down at her with awe, his eyes wide and mouth hanging ajar. A smile slowly crawls over his features, and she lets out a breath she hadn't known she was holding, there's no way for someone to smile like that if they're upset. "You're..." She nods slowly and his smile grows as he squats, curling his long fingers around her belly. "Hello, baby. It's papa."

The Nephilim smiles as he stands again, curling her in a tight embrace, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "You're not upset."

"Definitely not, I don't even care that your dad is going to kill me, I'm ecstatic!"

"You mean it?"

He pulls her back slightly, his fingers curled lightly at her cheeks. "I swear. I'm here with you every step. How can I not be happy, I'm going to be a papa and the one that I love most in the world is going to be the mama, I couldn't be happier."


	126. Almost Frost Bitten

"Where is your coat?"

Azazel rubs his arms as he hops into the Villa, the Healer closing the door behind, trapping the warmth within the room. Snow has stuck to his dark hair, his shivering is visible, having made the trek from the Pantheon to the Villa without a coat and his sleeves rolled up. The Archangel glares at him sternly, pulling him into the room, reaching for a blanket draped over the back of the chair next to them as they pass it, curling it over his shoulders.

"You'll catch something if you're going to be that way."

"I just really wanted to see you."

"You could have put your coat on first."

"I couldn't!"

The Healer plants his hands on his hips and looks down at him with narrowed eyes. Azazel smiles sheepishly, rubbing at his arm lightly, looking to his feet for a moment, before looking back up at the archangel. "I could have put on my coat."

"That's what I thought you said."

He guides the young Grigori forward, tugging the blanket around his shoulders more securely, his bare feet rubbing against the warm rugs under them. "Did you walk all the way here barefooted?"

"No?"

"Is that a question or a statement?"

He looks down again, sheepishly once more, watching as his toes wiggle over the rug under him. "Maybe."

"Mmhmmm." He knows the archangel rolls his eyes, even though he doesn't see it, and the younger angel looks up as he fills a small basin with warm water. "Here, you can carry this." Azazel curls his fingers around the bottom of the basin and watches silently as the Healer stirs up a mug of steaming tea leaves. He follows him dutifully from the kitchen area back down the hall to the side for his bedroom.

His room is warm, the fire in the fireplace along the far wall is blazing hotly, his bed is made, with extra blankets, the edge curled down welcoming someone to climb under them and get comfortable, the oil lamp on the bedside table casts a warm glow around the room. A book sits next to the lamp, thick and well used, the pages yellowing from age, it's been read more than a few times.

Raphael guides his young Grigori to the edge of the bed, takes the basin of warm water from his hands, and sets it at his feet. "Sit." He falls over the edge of the bed into a seated position as he's ordered. Warm fingers curl around his left ankle and lifts his foot from the smooth wooden floor under them. "You're lucky you didn't get frost bite." He tsk's under his breath and shakes his head as he sets the foot in his grasp into the warm water, reaching for the other to do the same. "You keep them there for a good few minutes to thaw them out." Azazel nods, slouching inwards, wiggling his toes under the water.

He watches the archangel shake his head again, standing from his crouched position, watching as he turns for the wardrobe across from them, opening the door as he mumbles to himself, reaching in for a dry warm tunic, closing the door behind him.

The Grigori lifts his arms when he's instructed to, and closes his eyes as his cold wet tunic is lifted over his head and the warm dry one is pulled down. "Okay, you can lift your feet out." Azazel pulls his feet out and the basin is pulled away, set aside, and a pair of socks his tossed to him. "Put these on." He nods, bending over to do as he's told, the Healer leaving him for a few moment to dump out.

When he returns, he gestures to the bed. "Under the blankets with you." Azazel smiles, crawling under the blankets, the one still wrapped around his shoulders, and cuddles down against the pillow. "What am I going to do with you, Azazel?" Raphael sits on the edge of his bed, reaching over to stroke the hair from the Grigori's eyes. Azazel smiles, leaning into the touch, and pus contentedly. "Tuck me in and cuddle with me and read to me."

"Oh, am I?"

He nods. "Please?"

The Healer chuckles fondling. "Oh, put that pouting lip away, you know I will."

Azazel cuddles against his side as he settles down next to him. "I love you, RaRa."

"I love you too, dragonfly."


	127. A Flock Of Sick Guards

They waited patiently at the door for her to slowly make her way up the stairs to the entrance with the key, it was an old key, ancient in its design, and was nearly as big as her entire hand as she handled it.

Temeluch yawned into his hand as he watched her make her way to them languidly, she had been the last one to rise that morning, and thus they were left waiting on her to open the door. He leaned against his spear, his eyes drooping, shivering slightly in the cool deep autumn wind.

Sorath yawned into his fist, leaning against the oldest guard comfortably, Sabaoth rubbed his eyes slightly and rubbed the younger guards arm softy, trying and failing to rouse him into a wakeful standing position.

Rahab had fallen to sit at their feet, her legs crossed, head held up in her palms, her eyes closed as she waited silently and patiently.

Osmadiel was the one to finally say something, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he threw his hands up. "Would you hurry up already, the sooner you unlock the door, the sooner I can sit and go back to sleep…I mean…Sit and watch."

Aeshma glared at him, there was no heat behind it, and stared at him with said glare as she walked passed him, slipping the key into the locks hole, turned it, the tumblers clinking, and pulled the door open. She gestured for them to enter with a gesture that was soaked in silent sarcasm, and reached for her belt to hook the key back to it, Temeluch rubbed her arm as he walked passed her, taking up his place at the inside of the door, the others filing in after him.

Their oldest brother rubbed their youngest brothers arm lightly. "Come on, Sora, we can sit down when we get to our post." Sorath nods lightly, pulling away from his side, rubbing his eyes softly as he lets himself be guided forward. Sabaoth leads him through the door, taking his spear and his younger brother's into hand, and nods for him to follow him down the hall to the other door. Osmadiel steps around him, his own spear in hand, and opens the door for them, propping it open with a ledge of wood, stepping in first. Their nightly replacements smile at their appearance, meaning that they were done with their round, and stood from their stools, exchanging soft farewells and greetings as they stepped passed them, trading places for the day.

They were there to keep watch over the day.

And the night guards were heading to bed.

Sabaoth sets the younger guards spear to rest against the far side of the cell door frame, and guides him to sit on his stool, Sorath nods in appreciation, waiting for the elder guard to cross behind him, setting his own spear to lean against the nearest side of the frame, and seats himself on his stole. He, himself, leans against the corner, and Sorath leans back against him, his eyes closing softly.

Rahab does much of the same, setting her spear to rest against the corner, folding over on herself. Osmadiel leans back against his corner, crossing his arms loosely, his eyes close softly too.

Their prisoners are still sleeping, for which they are grateful, that means it's going to be a quite morning.

"Well, aren't we a wakeful bunch this morning."

He's much to chipper for this time of the morning. Osmadiel opens his eyes to glare at him, the Power smiles back, the other coming up behind him, they both look much too happy to be awake at this hour. Titus waves a few fingers at him, and he sticks his tongue out him as the mature thing to do, and leans back against his corner again.

Their captain snorts in amusement.

"Still not a morning person, Os?"

The second oldest guard groans into his hands, peeking out between his fingers, glaring at the new voice.

"What are _you _doing here?"

"Well, I'm allowed to be in my own Prison, and perhaps I just wanted to see my dearest little Os, again."

Osmadiel groans again and flops forward, Sabaoth chuckles lightly at his misery, like the traitor he is. Nisroc smiles over at him, before returning his gaze to the younger of his two grown charges, Osmadiel refuses to look back up again.

Titus smiles at their exchange, kneeling before his folded up guard, stroking his hand down the back of her head. "Ra, can you sit up for me?" She huffs softly, but does as he asks, and he smiles at her as he presses the back of his hand to her forehead, frowning lightly as he feels, and then to her cheeks. "Right." He stands, turning to his youngest guard. "Sora," the young guard opens his eyes at the call of his name, but doesn't pull away from leaning against his older brother's chest. "What's the problem here?"

He rubs at his eyes lightly. "Don't feel good, Tus."

"You don't feel well, Sora?"

He shakes his head, and Titus smiles at him, holding a hand out to the youngest guard. "Come here, Sora." The youngest guard looks up at his older brother for a moment, as though asking permission to move, Sabaoth nods silently, and Sorath stands, tucking himself against the Power's side comfortably. Titus smiles down at him, rubbing his free hand over the top of his head, he presses the back of his hand over his forehead, nodding to himself, and then to his cheeks. "You're a bit warm, little angel."

"Sabaoth," his eyes flit up to his old guardian, pushing away from the corner he's leaning against when he beckons him forward with a wag of his finger, he reaches forward to feel his temple with the back of his hand. "What are you supposed to do if you aren't well?"

"Stay in bed."

"What did you not do?"

"Stay in bed."

"Right," Titus looks up from his little angel's flushed face. "I've arranged for others to cover for you all for the next couple of days. Let's go." He turns, guiding the young angel under his arm around with him, Nisroc curls his arm around Sabaoth's shoulders, catching Osmadiel as he passes him, as they all follow after the captain of the guards.

He leads them across the Training field, shooing any wandering eyes back to their training as they pass, and up the stairs to the Pavilion above. They stop in the Lounge, where a pile of blankets await them, Titus turns to face them when he comes to stand next to the pile. "Alright, each one of you take up at least one blanket."

They all reach over for a blanket, Rahab takes two, and they turn as he does, gesturing to the pillow filled lounge. "Find a spot and get comfortable." Rahab darts off, claiming a spot against two large pillows, curls up in her two blankets, turning into a small mound that rises and falls with every inhale and exhale. She doesn't take much convincing. Aeshma and Temeluch curl up together next to Rahab, leaning against each other as their eyes close once more. Osmadiel steps out from under Nisroc's arm, taking his blanket with him, he collapses on his belly, and pulls the blanket up over his head. Sabaoth steps forward, holding his hand out for the youngest guard tucked against his captain's side, and Titus urges him forward. "Go with your big brother, Sora."

Sorath nods. "Okay, Tus."

Sorath takes Sabaoth's hand, and the older guard leads him forward, to an empty spot, and settles them down. He leans back against the pillow, legs out stretched, crossed at the ankles, and lifts his right arm as Sorath curls underneath it, resting his head on his older brothers stomach, his eyes closing as the arm curls around him.

Titus and Nisroc busy themselves with tucking them in for a quiet moment, and then return to their positions, arms crossed loosely. "You all get some sleep, we'll wake you up in a bit for some broth and crackers."

Let it never be said that Titus doesn't take good care of his guards.


	128. A Violent Death

"I left with one request."

Castiel bows his head to the person in the circle of orange. The flames illuminate the harsh scowl aimed in his direction from someone of superior standing. Silver eyes bear into him, cutting into his very grace like the smooth blade of a knife.

"I had one request. What was it Castiel?"

The Seraph backs up a step, not so sure of himself in this moment, they'd had a long run of getting away with much, intimidating other angels into following their will, but not with this one. Never with him.

He itches for his blade though he knows it to be useless, he would never stand in a fight between him and the other, "You said to be left alone."

"And this Castiel?", he steps up to the edge of the holy fire, eyes almost as dangerous as the flames themselves, "Is _this _leaving me alone?"

Beside him, Dean Winchester butts in before he can stop him, "Okay okay, lets all back up. _You're _Azrael?"

Silver eyes glare at him, and for a moment the passing thought of _'If looks could kill' _comes to mind and makes itself at home there, but he stands his ground. Dean hasn't let an angel bend him and he isn't about to start with half pint here.

"That would be me."

He smirks, "Sorry, was expecting something...Bigger?"

Of all the warnings Castiel had given against summoning this wild card, of all the things he had done, he'd expected something more akin to _Death. _Tall, slender, pale, terrifying. But this angel before him, vessel of not, looked like he should still be in grade school.

"I guess we were both disappointed, weren't we, _Michael's Sword_?"

He sneers at the name. Azrael grins at him, white teeth flashing against the dark background, his eyes flash silver, pulsing, like a heartbeat, "All that commotion and for what? A broken little _man._"

Sam tugs his older brother backwards, breaking the little staring match before it can even get a hold on itself, he eyes the vessel and makes a face of disgust. He had never seen an angel take the vessel of a child before and seeing this one made his blood boil, the life they could have had taken before it even started, the _humane _part of him wanted to banish the angel from the kid.

Azrael sneered at him, "What would you know of _'humane',_ boy with the demon blood? My vessel is young, yes, but do not doubt that I have enough power in my _pinkie _to erase you both from existence should I want it to happen."

The younger hunter startles, still not used to having his mind read, "Why a kid? What did you promise him? What lies did you fill his head with?"

"I did not lie to him. I promised him _comfort_. That's what I do. I soothe the soul."

"You kill. Azrael. Archangel of Death."

"Well yes," he grins at him, "That too."

Instead of waiting for the hunter to ask more asinine questions, the angel turned to face the other, eyes hardening once more, tone becoming older than his face portrayed him to be. He was not happy to have been summoned, and he was going to make this very clear, he's told them to leave him _alone. _

"Why have you _summoned_ me here Castiel?"

"The souls…. they're causing havok…. they've become violent."

The other angel shrugs, clearly not as phased about this as they are, Dean grinds his teeth. This is _his _planet they're talking about, _his _home. Azrael shrugs again.

"I don't see why that should be my problem."

"Because there's _people _here!", he can't contain himself and the older hunter snarls, "Good people who are gonna die!"

Azrael shifts, looking him over, and gives Castiel a pointed look.

"Whose side are you egging for?"

A hand closes around his throat in the next second, not fazed by the holy fire, and he watches the flames dance off his skin flawlessly through wide eyes as he chokes for breath. Azrael is in front of him, eyes burning bright silver, and in the light of the fire he can see the glint of a ring.

Of course, Death would let Azrael carry his ring.

"Watch your tone human. I have not forgotten how you guilted my older brother to his death. You may be able to sway other angels but I am not so _weak_. I do _not _care one way or another. The ghosts can do what they want, I don't care what happens to you, or your kind. I wanted to be left alone."

He digs his fingers into Dean's throat and he whimpers between gags, "Castiel. _What _was my only _request_?"

"To...To be left alone."

Perhaps this time they had bitten off more than they could chew. Castiel had warned them. He'd told them not to go after Azrael and they had ignored him. Now they had Azrael here and the archangel was angry. He was one of the Archangels he would avoid angering at all costs.

...

Castiel can count on one hand the number of times he's met Azrael. The Archangel of Death is elusive, he does not like to be around large crowds, a free spirit that follows the path of the wind. The youngest of the archangels is always with an older brother.

Reading in the libraries with Raphael.

Training in the fields with Michael.

Gazing at the stars with Lucifer.

Or causing mayhem for the older archangels with Gabriel.

He talks to Father often, one of His favorites, one of the few who can get Him to smile.

Azrael is well tempered and soft spoken, he is the one who teaches the Rit Zien the art of peaceful death, but when angered he is as deadly as the plague.

He lives in harmony to his older brothers, under their eye and teachings, he plays and keeps to himself in their garden.

And then the harmony breaks, Lucifer betrays Father, Michael casts Lucifer out, Raphael turns inward for protection, and Gabriel barely holds them together. Azrael, seeing what his brothers had become, leaves them.

Azrael leaves Heaven with one final message.

He is not to be disturbed.

Not even Michael had disregarded his request.

But they had.

…

"Azrael please.", He is not used to begging other angels for mercy, he is not used to having to beg for anything from other angels, so many have bowed to his will as if it was on par with the word of their Father, "You wouldn't kill him."

And at the moment all he can see is Dean's slowly purpling face, eyes starting to bug from his head as he tries to catch his breath from under the archangels unrelenting grip.

"Why wouldn't I Castiel?", Azrael turns a sharp smile on him, eyes glinting dangerously, "He's only _human._"

His eyes flit downwards a fraction when Castiel's blade slips into his hand, and his smile fades, something akin to a sneer taking over its place. It only makes him look more fearsome then he had. Castiel grips his blade, steeling his nerves, and grits his teeth.

He won't allow him to harm the Winchesters.

"I won't allow you to harm him."

Azrael laughs at his attempt to appear intimidating, squeezing just that much more tighter around the humans neck, feeling things snap under his touch, "Are you kidding? What are you going to _do_? Are you going to _kill _me?"

Dean gasps as he's dropped to the floor, coughing and sputtering as air fights its way back into his lungs, face slowly returning to its natural color. Azrael leaves him, face darkening with every step he takes across the floor, eyes flashing once as he stalks closer to Castiel, a predator after its prey.

The seraph swipes at him, and he deflects it rather easily, a flick of his wrist and the blade is buried in the wall beyond them, and the archangel reaches for the other angel. Castiel huffs as he's tugged forward, downwards, and Azrael smiles as they meet gazes.

"You wanted my attention?", He's still smiling as he turns to face the two humans, "You _wanted _my attention."

Azrael laughs bitterly, it's a nasty sound, something that chills the blood and haunts the dreams of man.

"You have it."

...

"Personally," Azrael is reclining over a chair, legs hooked over the side, "I don't really care about what happens to this world. It's not the only one ever created. And even if most of you die, I stand by what I said, you all breed like rabbits. You'll fill that void in population soon enough."

Looking up from examining his fingers nails, he flicks his other hand lazily, Castiel bends forward as his insides turn and twist. Groaning in a pain that isn't really there. Dean tugs at his bonds, snarling silent threats, Azrael had taken his voice from him after the first one.

Sam wasn't so dimwitted, "Why? Why let so many perish? Just for some tantrum?"

The archangel froze, his fingers clenching into a fist as he dropped his hand, turning to look at the hunter bound before him. Azrael was silent for a long moment.

"Because I don't like you. _Humans_. I don't particularly care for any of you."

He throws his legs over the arm of his chair, feet planting firmly on the ground, and he stands. Sam falls silent as he approaches, thinking perhaps he had gone too far this time, Castiel watches the archangel closely unsure as to what he had in mind. One could never be too sure when it came to this one.

Azrael takes hold of the hunter's chin, fingers digging into the flesh, blood drips down his arm.

"You tore my family apart."

He dragged the hunter forward and Sam screamed as the gashes in his face got deeper, "We were _happy_! I had my older brothers! My Father! And then _you _call came along."

Despite his small form, the archangel was just as strong as any archangel, he dragged Sam across the floor and held him out to his hounds. They growled and snarled jumping at the offered treat, but not sinking in until given permission to do so, though their impatience was obvious.

"What would Michael say?", Castiel spoke up, struggling against his bonds, his need to protect his charge more potent than ever, "If he knew you were doing this, what would he say?"

At one time, the mere mention of Michael's name would have been enough to make the youngest archangel quench his anger, but now he merely laughed.

"I'm not especially interested in what _he _would have to say. He can go screw himself. Him and Lucifer both."

But he did let the hunter go, Sam wrapped a hand around his chin as he tried to staunch the bleeding, his eyes wide as the hounds before him laid back down, upset that they were left without their snack but never daring to go against their masters command.

"But lets not talk about that, this is about you, we're going to play a game Castiel. Do you want to know what it's called?"

He didn't make a sound.

Azrael grinned at him, blade dancing in the candle light, and Castiel screamed as it was jammed into his shoulder.

"I know you do, so I'll tell you,", he pulled the blade out and licked at the red, "It's called, _'Who can scream the loudest?_'."

The Seraph huffed in agony, feeling the wound leak blood and grace, his wing immobilized. He curls his fingers into fists, biting through the pain, he looks up to the Archangel of Death.

"What would Raphael say?" He bites back a groan. "Seeing you like this?"

That causes a mild reaction, the younger archangel inhales at his name, his eyes widening for a moment. There's a flicker of emotion in his void eyes, that of a fledgling looking for their guardian, Azrael liked his solitude, but even he liked the feeling of having someone to return to.

"What would he think, knowing you've acted this way?"

Azrael's face twists into something ugly, and he snarls, curling his fingers around the hilt of his blade. "I don't care what he'd think." He twists his blade between his fingers. "But, I'll humor you," he raises it again and Castiel prepares for another strike. "Let's see if you can scream loud enough to get his attention."


	129. Breath Taken

On the good days, Temeluch and Aeshma were the first ones to arrive at the Prison, to unlock the doors, prepare the light breakfast for the Prisoners, get the water boiling for the coffee, making sure their spears were sharp and ready for use if use was needed. There were several things they did before the others arrived, to ensure their day went by smoothly, the others slowly trickled in after them. Most times they arrived in pairs, talking between each other companionably, or basking in each other's presence in silence.

So, it was no odd for him to show up shortly after them. He smiled to them in greeting, bidding them a soft good morning in greeting, and took his spear up in hand, as he made his way down the hall towards their Prisoners. He stopped midway to collect the Scribes breakfast from the breakroom halfway down the hall, and continued his journey in, racking his spear against the iron bars of the cell, he roused the Scribe from his slumber, if they had to wake up at this hour then their prisoner would too.

Metatron grumbled as he slid off his cot, mumbling about how uncomfortable it was and how thin the blanket was and how bad the pillow was and how disgusting the breakfast was. He remained just as silent as he had been when he arrived, as he pulled the key to the cell off his belt and slid it into the hold, twisting it, the tumblers clicking, and he replaced his key on his belt.

Stepping into the cell, the scribe held his hands out for the tray, watching with wide eyes as the tray of food was dropped to the stone floor, looking up to snap at the guard for dropping his breakfast on the dirty ground, he gagged as fingers curled around his throat, squeezing firmly. He is forced backwards, the guard stepping forward, trapping him against the stone wall behind him. He curls his fingers around the guard's wrists, tugging desperately, trying in vain to get the fingers off from around his neck. The thin metal tray bend as he steps over it, the dry toast crackling under his boots, the eggs smooshing into the stone floor, he gags and chokes for a breath.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, the small part, that's often times ignored by the greater portion, realizes in horror that he's finally pushed the quiet docile guard too far, his words have caused more damage then can be contained, he's finally lit the fuse of his temper, and evidently this one had a violent temper.

Surprising considering his normal demeanor.

"I. Told. You. To. Shut. Up." The guard grinds out as he tightens his fingers, the Scribes eyes start to bug out, his lips changing in hue. "I'll. Shut. You. Up. Myself."

The other prisoners woken in the scrabble and struggling, yelling down the hall for help, yelling for the sake of the one who cannot. Boots pound against the stone flooring, from down the hall, starting out faint but growing quickly in pitch.

"Yehudiah!" Hands come from around him, prying desperately at his fingers, trying to pry them away, to stop him from crushing the prisoner's windpipe. "Let go! You are better than this, Yehudiah! Let go!"

"Why!" Yehudiah grinds out, tightening his grip, the Scribes struggles are starting to slow. "No one would miss him. I would be doing the Host a favor. I'm just doing what they're all too weak to do."

"Not like this, Yehudiah! You are a good angel, don't tarnish yourself so, let him go! You're going to kill him!"

"_I'm trying to!" _The fingers prying at his slowly begin to pull his grasp apart, but only just. "I told him to shut the fuck up! I warned him! I gave him fair warning! But he kept going! He kept prying! He kept _picking_!" He snarls and tries to shake the fingers away from his. "My _guardian _may have been an _asshole_, but he taught me _well_."

"Yehudiah, let _go_!"

"_Never!"_

"Aeshma!" It's Temeluch curled around him trying to pry his fingers away, he calls to his sister, she must be standing behind them. "Get Sabaoth! I cannot get him! His grip is too firm!"

Boots pound down the hall, and disappear from ears range, they aren't away for long, the sun's beginning to rise, Sabaoth would be nearly there at this time. He squeezes harder and the Scribe's eyes start to roll, more boots pound against the stone floor, more then two people, perhaps they've walked here in a group, they do that sometimes.

"Yehudiah!" His tone is frantic, but firm, as the oldest guard runs into the Scribes cell, Temeluch's arms disappear as his older brother's appear in their place, larger fingers curl around his, strong enough to meet his resistance, and slowly pull them apart. "Let him go, little brother, let go."

"No! _You _let go!"

The scribe falls limp when he manages to finally pry his fingers away. "Os!" Another rushes into the cell, when the younger guard begins to struggle against his binds, reaching desperately for the scribe crumbled on the floor. Arms curl around his waist, different hands curl around his wrists, and they struggle to carry him out from the cell, he struggles, pulling at his arms desperately, kicking wildly, snarling like a feral animal, as he's dragged from the cell and down the hall.

Rahab rushes into the cell, pressing two fingers against the scribes neck, feeling for a pulse, sighing in relief when she feels one thump under her fingers, it's weaker then it should be, but its there.

Yehudiah screams and snarls as he's carried down the hall, arms wound around his waist firmly, keeping him from making purchase with the ground under him, fingers curled tightly around his wrists, trapping his arms before him. "Let go! I'd be doing everyone a _favor_! Let _go!_"

"That's wrong, Yehu, you know that." He's tossed around, into the break room, and the older guards barricade the door. "You need to calm down."

"I am calm! This _is _calm!"

"This is _not _calm."

"Saba," great, as if it wasn't bad enough that his older brother had found him, now he really was through with his captain being there. "What's going on?"

"He's finally snapped."

Osmadiel nodded from next to his older brother. "It's been week after week of abuse though, I'm surprised he's lasted as long as he has."

"Titus, he's unconscious, the bruising is going to be rather deep." He sneers when the other Power peers over his brother's shoulder. Of course he would be here, the prisoners and Prison were ultimately under his protection now, anything that happened in the Prison had to be brought to his attention, of course he would be made aware of this incident. His captain touches a hand to the guard's shoulder before him, and Osmadiel steps aside, allowing him entrance into the room, and then falls back into his place blocking the doorway. Yeduhiah backs away from him as he approaches, he knows his captain, as soon as he gets his hands on him his anger's going to fade, and he needs it so he can fight passed them to get back to his self-assigned duty.

"Yehu, come here." His captain holds a hand out for him, and he huffs, shaking his head, backing away a step as he approaches him slowly. "You stay away from me! I'm gonna kill him! I'm gonna _kill _him! I'm gonna _shut him up_!"

"No, you're not, you're going to be moved, you're not going to be anywhere near him anymore." Yehudiah growls when he manages to curl his fingers around his upper arm, tugging him forward, growls when another arm curls around his waist, as the fingers from his upper arm disappear and another arm curls around his shoulders. "He's never going to hurt you again." Fingers rub at the back of his neck and he sighs softly, his anger fading, no one can stay angry while wrapped in his arms.

He slowly melts into the embrace, curling his arms around his captain in turn, curling his fingers into his tunic tightly. "I'm sorry, Tus."

"I know, Yehu, you're not in trouble."

"I'm not?"

"No," fingers curl around the back of his head and presses him closer. "You're not. I should have seen what this was doing to you, and for that, I am sorry. I'm moving you, you'll join the guards of the Throne Room, immediately."

He nods against the Power's shoulder, ducking to hide himself away from them, tucking himself in deeper. "You'll come stay with me for today though, where I can keep an eye on you, and you're going to start speaking with Pronoa again, alright?" He nods again, curling around his captain tighter, and the fingers cradling the back of his head scratch his scalp lightly. "Let's go, Yehu, you're coming with me, we're going to spend the day together, and then you'll go to your new assignment tomorrow."

"Okay, Tus."


	130. For Little Angels

Sorath was at an impasse, Tus was away again, Saba was busy, and once again, after the week he'd had, he wanted some tickles. Tickles always made him feel better, it made the ache from the Scribes mean words fade away, made him forget them in his bubbly laughter, he liked the playfulness it brought with it.

But there was no one for him to go to for tickles, once again, Tus was away, Sabaoth was busy leading the new guards through training, so he went to bed earlier then he usually did, leaving him alone to fend for himself.

He hummed slightly, racing his cars across the track he'd gotten last week, making little car noises under his breath. There was someone else he could go to, someone who was like Tus, nice and playful and always giving him new stuffed animals, maybe he'd be willing to give him tickles. He hummed to himself, bringing his car to a stop on the track. He could ask, the worst that could happen was he said no, actually the worst that could happen is he could say he was a bad angel and shun him from his newfound family.

Would Tus let him, would he fight to protect him, what would he say?

Pushing himself to his feet, he steeled his resolve, and sat up, placing his cars back on the shelf above his bed. He curls his fingers into fists and turns, pulling his door open to allow him exit from his room, making his way silently passed Saba's door, he didn't want to wake him, he needed his sleep, he crept around to the stairs that led up to the Pavilion above, it was silent above him, maybe he was already asleep, he didn't want to disturb him if he was already asleep, he was a busy angel.

But what if he wasn't asleep yet. What if he was still awake and he missed out on his tickles.

He took the first step. Paused. And then took the second. The third. Forth. Until he was at the landing above, standing in the empty Lounge. The dishes were still glistening with water, having just been washed and set to dry, and there was commotion coming from the hall across from him, so he knew that they were still awake. Twiddling his fingers softly, he stepped forward, folding in on himself slightly as he entered the hall, peeking into each room in search of the one he sought after. He was in the final door, in the middle of pulling his tunic over his head, turning when he knocks on the door, calling for him to enter.

Sorath looks to the floor as he pushes the door open, stepping into the room quietly, not wanting to look him in the eyes lest he see the distaste and disgust.

"What can I do for you, young Sora?"

He peers up at the sound of his name, looking into the Captain's shining eyes, he's always so happy, there's not a pinch of distaste in them. He hasn't put his clean tunic on yet, his arms crossed lightly over his bare chest, there's a few scars, but mostly muscle. "Uummm…"

"Take your time."

The young guard nods, swallowing thickly, and looks back down to his fingers again. "Uummm, Nisros…..Nis….Willyoutickleme?"

"I'm sorry?" He sounds amused, not upset, curious even. "I didn't catch that."

"I said…Ummmm….Will you tickle me?"

"You want me to tickle you?" His arms uncross, fingers curling around his hips gently, tilting his head curiously. "Why?"

"Because….." He looks down again. "I like…I like being tickled."

He closes his eyes, waiting for the dismissal, the words of distaste, the disgust for him and his secrets. He can't help what he likes. And he happens to like tickles.

"You want tickles?" Sorath nods softly, yelping as he's scooped up off his feet, up into the oldest Power's arms. He looks down at him with wide eyes, into his shining eyes and smiling face, he's so nice to him, even after all he's done. "Oh, I'll give you tickles, little guy." A smile slowly crawls over his features and he nods. "All you ever have to do is ask."

"Okay, Nis."

"Let's get you those tickles."

He giggles softly as the Power turns towards his bed, curling his fingers around the older angel's bare shoulders, Nisroc looks around him for direction, coming to stand at the edge of his bed. He bends forward, the guard falling backwards, dropping the younger angel over onto the bed behind him. Sorath giggles where he lies, looking up at the mighty Power Captain with shining eyes, giggling in anticipation. Nisroc winks at him, reaching out to poke him in the belly lightly, and he giggles harder.

"You stay right there, let me get a tunic on real quick, then we'll give you those tickles."

He nods, pushing himself upwards to lay against the soft fluffy pillows, watching as the Power leaves him for a moment, reaching into his wardrobe for a clean tunic, pulling it over his head, he turns to smile at the young guard. Rushing forward, he drops over the bottom of his bed, trapping his legs under his body, resting on his elbows around his hips.

"You ready for some tickles, little guy?" He giggles and nods. Nisroc smiles at him, reaching down for the edge of his tunic, gently pulling it up over his belly, revealing the pale skin underneath. "I love giving tickles to little angels." He wiggles his two forefingers into his lower belly, and the young angel giggles harder, squirming under him slightly. "And you're definitely a little angel."

Sorath giggles softly. "You're a big angel."

He chuckles softly. "I'm a very big angel."

He wiggles his fingers into his lower belly again and the young angel shrieks softly, squirming under him gently, curling his fingers into the quilt underneath him. "I think your belly is a wee bit ticklish." He wiggles a finger under his belly button and the young guard shrieks again, sucking in his belly, and the Power chuckles softly. "You think sucking in your belly will get you away from me?" He digs all five fingers into either side of his belly, and the young angel throws his head back, pressing back into his pillow, laughing brightly and freely. "I've become very adept in giving little angel bellies tickles, you can't escape me."

Sorath shrieks in laughter, the teasing making it all that much worse, and lets go of his breath as his laughter explodes from him. Shimmying from side to side, giggling when he slows his wiggling fingers, poking and prodding gently. The way he smiles at the Captain is adorable, he has dimples, something Nisroc's never noticed before, the way his eyes light up, beaming with excitement. "How about this?" He curls his fingers around his sides, preparing them both for what's about to come, and winks at the young angel. "This always drove your older brother crazy, still does, I'm just that good." He winks at him playfully and looks down at his belly, searching for the perfect spot for him to do what he must do, and nods when he seemingly finds it.

Sorath's eyes widen as he takes a deep breath, his head shooting down, his beard rubs against his belly as he presses his lips to the smooth surface and lets go a massive rumbly raspberry against his belly. The young guard screams with laughter, his fingers uncurling from the quilt under him to curl into the Power's long hair, holding on for dear life. "And how about one here, too?" He moves to the other side of his belly, takes another breath, and blows out another monstrous raspberry. Sorath squeals brightly, like a fledgling, bracing his heels against the edge of the bed, pushing up for all he's worth, arching his back at the extreme sensation.

Nisroc chuckles against his belly, his legs trapped by his arms, and reaches back to dig his fingers into the meat of his thighs. "You put those legs back down, mister." The younger angel squeals brightly and throws his legs down again, anything to get those wiggling fingers off his thighs, they move back up to wiggle in his belly. Sorath squeals again and archs his back, pushing against his shoulders, Saba and him always played when he went to him for tickles, he wondered if Nis would do the same. He curled his legs around the Captain's waist and forced them over, until he was sitting on the Power's stomach, and the Captain only chuckled again. "Oh, you want to play?" He curls his fingers around the bottom of the younger angel's thighs. "You want to wrestle?" He smiles when the young guard nods his head softly, smiling happily, and the Power whistles lowly. "You think you'll win?" Again, the young guard nods, giggling softly, and he smiled again. "We'll see, won't we?"

He pulls on the young angel's legs, sending him falling over backwards, falling into his lap as he sits up, guiding his legs around his sides, he reaches forward to run his fingers up the younger angel's sides, smiling at the shrieking mess he makes of him. Sorath curls his arms tight around himself, trying to block his sides, but he manages to make his grasp and wiggling his fingers up and down the sensitive skin. He sucks in a breath, holding onto his laughter, and shots up, thanking Tus internally for making them do all those sit ups during training, and digs his fingers in the Power's ribs. He laughs brightly when he makes the mighty Power shriek in surprise, his arms clamping down to protect his rib cage, and he pushes with his feet to send them back over, pushing the Power back onto his back, digging into his ribs viciously. He manages to find that spot that, thus far, their Commander has only managed to get to, and the Power throws his head back with laughter.

The younger angel laughs in triumph, a bit too soon, as fingers curl around his waist, throwing him forward, and he goes tumbling into the pillows above them. He's braced back against the pillows underneath him, his left arms braced above his head, and a finger wiggles deeply into his underarm. He shrieks in laughter, tugging desperately on his arm, as more fingers join in on the tickly torment. Nisroc smiles down at him, long hair falling gracefully over his shoulders, and he squeals brightly when he finds a particularly sensitive spot. "You thought you could get _me_?"

Sorath shrieks and shakes his head frantically.

The Power winks at him again, he's starting to learn just what those winks mean, and he braces his arm tightly, holding his chest down as he lowers himself towards his captive underarm, taking a deep breath, he burrows into his armpit and blows a vicious raspberry. Sorath squeals with laughter, arching his back, tugging feverishly at his wrist above his head. "I'm going to get _you_." He takes another deep breath and blows another raspberry, just as vicious as the last one, and he squeals again.

Throwing himself to the side, he curls his leg around the Power's waist, and uses the momentum to throw them over, the Power yelps as he tumbles over, stumbling to catch himself before he fell over the side of the bed, Sorath rolls with him, coming to sit between his legs as the Captain hangs precariously over the edge of the bed, and reaches down to wiggle his fingers against his bare soles. He shrieks, his toes curling at the feeling, and the young angel giggles softly, reaching forward to pull the toes of his right foot back so he can wiggle his fingers under them, Nisroc yelps a high pitched yelp and laughs these big deep belly laughs, yanking on his foot, enough that the younger angel curls around his ankle.

The Captain sits up easily, with his internal well trained muscles, having done many more sit ups in his lifetime then the young guard has, and curls his arms around the younger angel's midsection, pulling him back as he flops back down, tugging him up to lay over his chest, and digs his fingers into either side of his rib cage. His young charge squeals brightly, kicking his legs out as he assaulted his ribs, sliding fingers under his arms and wiggling in there, and he threw his head back, smacking it lightly against the Power's shoulder, and a bearded face burrowed into the side of his neck, he screams brightly, trying to lean to the side, he doesn't get very far.

"Tap out," he blows a deep raspberry into his neck. "Tap out, Sora."

Sorath squeals, reaching over to tap the side of the Captain's head, and Nisroc laughs softly against his neck, pulling one of his hands out from under his arm to catch his hand before he can pull it away, and stops his playful attack, pressing his lips to the palm of his small hand, his own dwarf the young guards. He falls limp overtop of him, limbs sprawling in all directions as he lays over the Power's Captain, breathing deeply after such an occasion, trying to catch his breath. Arms curl around his waist and a bearded chin rubs against the undercurve of his jaw bone as lips press just under his ear.

"Have fun?"

He nods breathlessly.

"Did you want tickles because it was a rough week?"

He nods again.

"Do you want me to put the fear of Father into Metatron come morning?"

Sorath nods again, curling his fingers through the ones curls over his lower belly, twining their fingers together.

"Do you want to sleep with me tonight?"

Again, he nods.

"Should we go get your dolphin then?"

Sorath nods silently, and the Power sits up, the young angel sliding down to sit between his legs. Fingers curl around his hips lightly. "Up you get." Boosting him up to his feet. He feels the warmth of the Power come up behind him soon enough, as Nisroc pulls himself to his feet in turn, and a warm hand presses to the small of his back. "Let's go get your dolphin."


	131. A Negative Into A Positive

"You wanted something?", Gadreel asked. He was shirtless and sitting on his bed. He hadn't expected anybody to enter at that moment and hid his surprise well behind a mask of stoic. The Power's eyes travelled over the beaten skin, the etchings and the raised lines of whip marks, the retired Sentry's back was littered with the scars.

Evidence of his living through actual hell.

The evidence of one of their greatest mistakes, one of many, a haunting reminder for all those who saw it.

He nods, leaning against the door frame lightly, nodding towards the tunic in his hands. "You've been trying to put that on for the better half of fifteen minutes."

"You've been standing there watching me trying to put on a tunic?"

"For longer then I should have," he shrugs lightly. "I didn't want to interrupt, I know how stubborn you can be, first hand knowledge."

Gadreel nods, looking down at the tunic in his hands, sighing deeply and looking back up. "Can you help me?"

He nods, pushing away from the doorframe, entering the room quietly, handheld out for the tunic. He shakes it out lightly and frowns, long sleeves, in this weather, this was going to be too much. He looks up to the Sentry, a light frown marring his features, lifting the tunic up slightly with raised eyebrows.

"Reel, it's almost too hot for short sleeved tunics, you are not wearing a long sleeved one."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you are not." He tosses the tunic on the bed and gestures for the wardrobe. "Get a short sleeved tunic."

"I can't."

He tilts his head in concern, resting his hands lightly on his hips, curious as to this sudden confession. "Why not?"

"Because then everyone will see them."

"See what?"

He gestures to himself in exasperation, throwing his hands about in an overexaggerated fashion, and Titus comes to the realization before he can express it with words. "My scars. Everyone sees them, and stares, I don't like it."

"I see, Reel, I'm sorry, but everyone's going to see them. You can't just wear long sleeves for the rest of your life, or that's going to be a rather warm life you're going to live."

"I'm prepared for the heat."

"Oh, really?" He crosses his arms lightly. "Do tell."

The Sentry reaches behind him, turning at the waist slightly, to pick something up from the bed. Titus raises an unimpressed eyebrow at the waterskin he holds up. "Really?"

"It's water. What combats heat better then water?"

He heaves an exasperated sigh, shaking his head fondly, as he turns to the wardrobe, pulling open the door, it's a rather large wardrobe, two sides for hanging and two shelves for trousers, he reaches into the right side for a hanger, places the long sleeved tunic over it, hangs it back in, and pulls out a short sleeved tunic. Turning back to the young retired Sentry, he holds the new tunic out to him, Gadreel eyes it with disdain, he has scars spidering all up his arms, old scars, sometimes they ached, but regularly the only problem was the sight of them.

"You're not leaving this room unless you put this _short-sleeved _tunic on."

Gadreel crosses his scarred arms lightly, shaking his head stubbornly, refusing to even consider the idea of putting that tunic on and leaving the room in it. "I'm not coming out wearing that. Everyone will see."

"There's nothing wrong with your scars, the represent triumph, a hardship you didn't let control who you were. Be proud of them."

"Everyone _stares _Tus."

"They're going to stare whether you wear this short sleeved tunic, or that long sleeved one, it'll fade with time. You can't hole yourself up for the rest of your life, it's not just unhealthy, I'm not going to allow it."

"It shows how broken I am. I've been ruined. I'm flawed now."

Titus crosses his own arms loosely. "Everyone has flaws."

"You don't."

He nods. "I do. I just don't let it define me. I own it."

"I'm ugly, Tus, I'm disfigured."

"You are _not_ disfigured. True beauty is what is underneath the skin, not outside, you're still as beautiful as they day you were created, and I would know, I was there."

Though he had been young then, he was indeed there the day the young Sentry had been 'born' to them, he'd gotten to hold him right after Michael had.

"You're only saying that to get what you want."

"Okay, I can see this is going to take more then words," he uncrosses his arms and steps forward. Marching across the room for the young Sentry. "You need to have some body positivity." Gadreel raises his arms to catch the Power's hands with his own, when he reaches out to grab him, and they grapple slightly for the upper hand. Titus pushes him backwards, towards the bed behind him, and Gadreel puts up quite a struggle, he's an honorable opponent. But he's no match for the older angel, not at the end of the day, and he yelps as his knees hit the edge of the bed and he tumbles backwards over the edge, collapsing over onto the mattress below him.

Titus crawls up over him, straddling his waist, he hooks his fingers under his arms to drag him up further onto the bed, before gently lowering himself over the young Sentry's legs. He looks down at the younger angel's bare belly and smiles, poking into the skin softly, smiling at the light soft giggle such an action elicited.

"You're belly still looks like it always has." He pokes a finger into the smooth, blemished skin, smiling when his fingers sinks in gently, the Sentry was still as fit as ever, but he'd put on a bit more weight, which suited him, he was as thin as a twig. "Still just as squishy as it was before." Wiggling his finger in a bit, he smiles when the belly squirms under him. "Still just as squirmy as I remember." He wiggles a finger in the other side of his belly and smiles again at the similar reaction he faces. "This side too?" He nods playfully. "Very good, very good."

Gadreel laughs softly, squirming from side to side, watching the finger wiggling into the left side of his belly with wide eyes.

Scars littered his belly, neither of them was blind to them, they spider'd around, overlapping and crossing, lines drawn into the skin permanently. But perhaps they could turn them into something better then just painful reminders of the past, it's best to not dwell on the past, it does no good.

"Oh, look, a line." He sticks his finger at the end. "I wonder where it leads." He traces his finger lightly around the squiggly line, light pitched giggles filling in the empty space around them, his belly wiggling under him from the light touch tracing up the fine scar under his belly button. "Oh, it stops here, I wonder what it is." Gadreel shrieks with laughter when he digs his fingers into his side, wiggling playfully, torturing the sensitive skin with tickles. "Oh, look at that, a spot for giggles."

He finds another long scar, tracing his finger over it slowly. "I wonder where this one leads." Gadreel tries to suck in his belly but his giggles make it rather difficult, he looses the breath as soon as he takes it, and his belly puffs back out again. "Right," the finger circles around his belly button. "About," it slows as it closes in. "Here", the finger dips into his belly button and the young Sentry squeals with laughter. "Oh, a spot of gold. Or, I should say, more like a happy button." He stills his finger and the Sentry stares down at him with wide eyes, giggling still under his breath. "On," he wiggles his finger and the young Sentry shrieks with laughter, shaking his hips from side to side, the Power chuckles softly under his breath. "Off." He stills and the younger angel's laughter tones down to soft giggles, waiting in anticipation for another attack, he doesn't wait long, Titus is impatient when it comes to tickles. "On, again." His finger wiggles in again and the younger angel squeals in laughter again, reaching down to bat at the Power's hand, Titus laughs softly and catches the offending appendage, pulling it away with his right hand, as he traces his the pointer finger of his left over another scar, it winds around the side of his belly, down to his left hip, and up over the curve of his left side. "Oh, what have we here, what treasure awaits us at the end of this path?"

Gadreel's giggles grow in volume as the Power smiles, the fingers of his left-hand curling over his right hip, his head slowly lowering. "I think I'm going to…" He squeals with laughter when the Power takes a deep breath and buries his face into his side, blowing out a loud vicious raspberry against the bump blemished skin. He laughs softly as he pulls away, looking up to meet his eyes, they sparkle with mirth. He winks, looking back down at his side, humming playfully. "Look, another treasure path." He follows it up, pulling his arm further away, following it upwards. "Oh, it leads up to some ribs." He licks his lips playfully, looking back up at him. "They look mighty tasty." He hums deeply. "I think I might have a taste." The Sentry shakes his head lightly, and he nods in turn, dipping down for his left ribs.

The young angel squeals when he begins to nibble, blowing a vicious raspberry over his highest rib, nibbling down the raised line that covers the left side of his rib cage, and he shrieks, curling around to try and pull away from the torturous Power, Tus's touches are light as a feather, it's the worst.

"Here's another one." Gadreel giggles wildly as he watches the Power trace another scar down to his belly, circling his belly button again. "It leads back to the happy button." He hums softly, tilting his head, as he taps his fingers against the side of his belly, both sides, and his giggles increase. "I wonder, we know pushing the happy button makes those cute little shrieks, I wonder what this will do." He takes a deep breath and rushes down, blowing a deep monstrous raspberry over his belly button, once, then twice.

The young angel screams with laughter, kicking his legs as best as he can under the heavy form of the Power, pushing desperately against his head as he blows another big raspberry over his belly.

Titus laughs softly as he looks up at him, the young angel's wide watering with mirth and laughter, and he smiles softly at the sight of them. "Do you feel better, or do I need to follow another treasure trail?"

"No! No, I feel better!" Gadreel giggles feverishly as ten fingers wiggling lightly over his waistline. "I feel much, much better!"

"Are you going to stop being so stubborn, put that tunic on, and come out with me?"

"But," he averts his eyes again, the scars are a big thing for him, Titus knows this. "What if they stare."

"Then, let them, let them see the evidence of your triumph."

"That's easy for you to say." Gadreel sighs sadly if a bit breathlessly. "You don't look like this."

"You know what, you're right." Titus pokes his belly one last time, and crawls off his legs, he tosses the younger angel's tunic on the desk top next to him, and tugs on the neck of his own tunic, tugging it up over his head, and tosses it over top of the smaller tunic on the desk top. Gadreel stares at him, eyes tracing over the thin web like scars that mar the Power's skin, they look a lot like his does, they crisscross and interweave each other, painting a pattern over the surface. "Not so different now, are we?" He turns, and Gadreel's eyes widen at all the scars that litter his frame, there's a rather large on, the shape of a star, over his left shoulder, some faint outlines of sigils mar the skin under his neck.

How had he never noticed these before.

"I prefer for people to know me for who _I _am." Titus looks at him from over his shoulder, as if reading his mind, and understanding his awestruck confusion. "So they see me for who I am. Not for what I look like." His rubs his fingers over the scarred sigils over the back of his neck, they wrap around, like a collar carved into his own flesh. "They used to stare at me too. You know I usually go shirtless when it's a rather hot day of training, especially if it's vigorous training, no use overheating in a tunic, no matter how light it might be." He turns back around to face him, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "They used to stare all the time, every time they saw me, and it made me feel just as self-conscious as you do. They'll get bored of it before you know it. The staring never stops. Someone will always stare. But this," he rubs his hands over his blemished skin. "This is all physical, superficial, they can mar your body, but they can never mar your spirit." He points at him playfully. "And that's all that really matters."

"H—How?" Gadreel climbs up from the bed, eyes wide as he takes in the blemishes, all of them, the bigger picture.

Titus looks down at his chest, his front, rubbing his fingertips over the raised skin, then up to his neck, the faded sigils etched in deeply, they'd never go away. "When I first became a Power, we went on a mission, my first as a new Elect, we were separated, and I was captured. I was kept their prison for a month, they were not nice, to say the least." He smiles down at the young Sentry, tilting his head back slightly as pale finger reach up to run over the runes carved into his flesh. "Dampening runes. A collar could be removed, so they carved them into the flesh, the only way to remove them would be to peal the flesh off." He ran his fingers over the runes himself. "They had to be carved again when I finally got back, so the rune could be broken, hurt just as bad the second time."

"Y-You look l-like me?"

"We're the same, Reel." The Power reaches out to cradle his cheeks, tilting his head up to meet his eyes, and he smiles down at him. "And, if I can do it, you can do it too. I _know_ you can." He rubs his thumbs over his cheek bones. "We'll go out like this together, so they can stare at me, just as much as they stare at you, you won't be alone. Not while I'm here. Not while Abner is here. Tragedy shapes us, but it doesn't define us."

Gadreel seems nervous, but a determined light comes to his eyes, and he nods. "Okay."

Titus smiles down at him again. "Ready?"

He nods firmly. "Ready." Still, despite his determination, he curls around the tall Power's arm loosely, as they turn out the door and make their way down the hall, coming to stand at the last step of the tunnel that led from the Training Field to the Pavilion above, their home, where they were okay to be themselves, in all their own ways. "Hey," he looks up to his guardian. "Stay with me and you'll be fine. You can do this. You're stronger then you even know."

Gadreel nods, looking back down to the Training Field before them, and the Power steps them down from the final stair. As was expected, others turned, staring at them with wide horrified eyes. Gadreel whimpered softly, ducking back into the Power's side, he curled his arm around him tightly and turned a firm glare on those who turned to stare at them, they turned back to their tasks at the harsh gaze.

"Come on, little bit." He guides them forward, towards his own squadron, training next to his Captains. Nisroc makes his way through the rows, his arms crossed lightly over his chest, watching them go through the motions with a critical eye, he smiles as he turns, spotting their approach, raising an eyebrow as he takes in their appearance. "Hello, Tus," he smiles down at the Sentry hiding in his brother's side. "Reel."

He eyes his brother critically. "It's been some time since I've last seen you like this, without it being through training, it's been some time indeed."

"I'm here for solidarity."

The Captain nods softly. "How'd you convince _him _to come down here like that?"

Titus looks down at the little Sentry and he giggles softly as he shrinks against his side.

Nisroc hums knowingly, smiling in amusement, as he looks back to his younger brother. "Did you trace the little _'treasure lines'_?" Titus chuckles and jerks a quick nod. "Remember when I used to do that to you?" He reaches up slightly, tracing a finger over the side of his neck, causing the younger Power to eep and jerk away. "As I recall, it was always your neck that got you the most."

"Don't you dare."

He hums softly, eyes shining mischievously. "We'll see."


	132. Free From Captivity

It had taken them a month to find the location they were keeping him, a month of grueling searches and reconnaissance, a month of worrying what might be happening to their young Elect while they searched him out.

And then they had found their stronghold.

…

He was there with his Commander because he was the Captain, their safety and wellbeing fell under his watch, and he had failed their little Elect, he had allowed him to be taken from them, allowed them to do what they pleased with him while they struggled to find him. There was no telling the damage that had been wrought to him in the time he had been here.

Nisroc dropped the body of the demon who had attempted to keep him from his little brother, tucking the key into his palm, he stepped over it's body, making his way down the hall of cells, he knew which one contained his younger brother, it was the only one that was closed shut.

Sticking the key into the lock hole, he turned it, the tumblers clinking, and he pulled the cast iron door open. Looking into the room, he couldn't see much, it was as dark as night. Reaching for a torch from the wall, he held it in front of him, as he stepped into the dark room. "Tus?" There was a faint whimper from the corner, and he turned in its direction, waving the torch in front of him. Honey colored eyes peered up at him and he smiled as comfortingly as he could, stepping closer to the cowering form, he kneels slightly, reaching a hand out towards him. "Tus, it's okay, you're safe now. I'm here to take you home."

A small shaking hand reached out tentatively, and he reached for the hand, curling his fingers around it delicately, the shaking hand curled around his weakly. "That's right, Tus, I'm here. Let's go home. We'll take good care of you." His younger brother whimpered again and tugged weakly on his hand. Nisroc moved closer, curling his arm around his little brother's lower back carefully, grimacing at the whimpers that followed. The younger angel leaned forward, curling his free arm around his neck, and he guided his legs around his waist, once he's sure he's as secure as he can be, he stands, the young Elect hanging weakly from his front. "Let's go home, baby bird, let's get you home."

"H…Home?" A weak shaky voice echoes him, and he nods lightly, brushing his lips over his slick cheek. "That's right, we're going home."

…

Michael had taken one look at the state his young Elect was in and disappeared for hours after, promising to be back to check on him, and ordering them to leave him undisturbed. They'd only seen him so anger once, and that had been during the war with the Leviathan, and didn't want to get in his way as he went on his warpath against those who had harmed his young one.

The screams that rang through the Infirmary as him and Abraxos held him down while the Healer carved the runes in the skin of his neck out once more so he could break them would haunt his dreams for some time to come, and then some. Bandages were wrapped around his neck now, around his torso, his stomach wrapped in bandages, his shoulder wrapped in a swath of bandages, drugged into sleeping through the night.

He'd move, but the small fingers had been curled into the front of his tunic when he'd first picked him up in his captivity hadn't let go, even in his sleep, and he hadn't the heart to pull it free, thus he laid back against the pillows, the young Elect resting lightly against his chest, sleeping soundly in his drugged state.

His brothers sat in two chairs positioned at the edge of the bed, watching him sleep peacefully, thanking the Healer for having the thought to drug him through the night, to stave off the pain and the nightmares that was sure to be in abundance.

Abraxos rubs his face with his hands, peering out from over his fingers at the sleeping figure curled around their Captain, reaching forward to smooth his soft damp curls back (he wouldn't change them until he was older), stroking his the backs of his fingers over his damp cheek lightly, the sobs had calmed one they had managed to get him to down the tonic, and it had knocked him out soon after. "He isn't even an _official_ Power yet and he's already faced the worst possible outcome any of us could face."

Puriel nods silently, watching their young Elect's peaceful face closely and carefully, his chilling screams still echoed in his mind, even hours after the fact. He was still so young, he'd just been chosen, it was his first mission as a Power elect, and this was what he had went through. "They tortured him. They tortured a _youngling_. He hasn't even had his first shave yet, if he wants to that is, that choice hasn't even come to pass yet." His eyes flit up to his brothers. "What became of them?" He's kill them himself if they continued to breath the air that their young Elect did.

Nisroc looks up from the Elect's peaceful expression, humming softly, smiling when he felt the gentle rub of a cheek against his chest, even through his tunic, and reached up with the hand curled around his waist to rub his thumb over the young angels cheek. "Michael took care of them."

"Did he return the _favor_ they bestowed so _graciously_?"

"I will not go into detail, not where young ears can listen in," he spares him a firm look and turns back down to the little angel resting so peacefully against him. "But yes, the favor was returned, tenfold. They don't breathe the same air we do any longer." He hums again, rubbing the young Elect's earlobe between his thumb and forefinger. "I will speak of them no more, and if you know what's good for you, you'll let it go."

The medic holds his hands up in pacification to the Captain's touchy temper, he took any harm against someone under his care personally, and for one so young, their young _Elect, _not even a true Power yet, and he'd already been through hell, it was a personal affront for their Captain. Nisroc was not one to cross when he lost his temper, and as he held onto their tortured Elect, his temper was close to snapping. Not at them, they knew that, but when his temper snapped, if it snapped, he'd be on a warpath. "It's dropped."

"Good."

"Do not loose your temper, Nisroc, you hold it back." They look up at the appearance of the Healer, his eyes portraying how serious he was in his statement, his gaze locking with the elder Power's until he averted his eyes from the Archangel's gaze, and nodded in acquiesce to him and his stern order. "It would cause more harm then good." He reaches forward, peeling back the bandages around his neck first, checking over the slowly scabbing runes carved into his neck, and kneels, tapping the elder Power's arm, for him to assist him in turning the Elect over, only slightly, for him to pull the bandages back from around his torso, checking over the wounds silently for any sign of early onset of infection. Nodding in approval when he spots none, and lays the bandages back down, standing back up, allowing the young angel to curl back around the Elder Power, sleeping blissfully unaware to his surroundings. They'd make sure he stayed that way for the next couple of days, those were the most important, these were the days that the first onset of healing would take place, and not just physical healing.

"What he needs most right now is unfiltered gentleness. Soft voices, gentle touches, and never, _never _left alone." He spares the Captain a glance. "You losing your temper would be the worst thing you could possibly do right now."

"I will ensure I keep it in check."

"See that you do." He nods once. "You can take him back tomorrow night, I want to keep an eye on the wounds for the rest of this one, being back in a familiar setting will bring healing easier." Raphael looks down the medic. "His bandages must be changed twice a day, once in the morning and once before bed, the wounds must be washed and disinfected twice a day, once in the morning and once before bed. I trust you can take care of them?" Puriel nods, certain of himself and his knowledge and ability. "Good. There will be much pain, especially around his neck, the runes are carved deep, deeper than everything else that was inflicted, we will supply you with enough pain relief until it becomes tolerable." They all share a nod. "Sleep will be hard to come by, not just from the pain, but the nightmares will be heinous, we will supply you with sleeping tonics for the first few weeks, then Puriel, you can make your own as needed." The medic nods firmly. "He was kept locked in a pitch-black cell, where he couldn't even see his shaking hand in front of his own face, he is not to be kept in a place with no light. Light a candle before bed, make a fire in the fireplace, I'm sure Michael would be willing to make you a small orb if you asked, he must be able to see where he is at all times, no exceptions." They nod again, taking it all to memory, wanting to remember every detail down to the finest point. "He will want to itch when everything begins to scab over, make sure he does not, I don't care how you do it, but distract him to keep him from scratching or he will rip them open again."

Raphael looks down at the sleeping little Elect and smiles softly. "But mostly, he needs gentleness, tenderness, peace. A slow-moving environment where he can be safe and cared for, I have no doubts you all will take great care of your little Elect, I know how fond of him you all are." He spares them all a small fond smile before look back down to the little angel curled around the Captain. "Nisroc, seeing as you were the one to take him from that place, he is likely to have imprinted on you, latched on if you will, meaning he is bound to hang onto you, quite physically, fingers curled into your tunic, tucking himself under your arm, fingers curled around your belt, he will hold on to you the most, you mean safety now, do not push him away."

The Powers' Captain looked as though he had been insulted, his eye brows coming together, a particular expression overcoming his features. "I would _never._"

He eyes their position with a smile. "I know you wouldn't." He raises a hand in complacency. "I wasn't trying to insinuate anything."

Sighing softly, and shares a look between the three of them, crossing his arms loosely. "Unfortunately, I hate to be that person, but visiting hours have come to pass. Only one of you can stay, the rest must leave for the night, you can return come morning if you wish."

There's no argument on who's the one that's going to be staying, there's only one of them that their little Elect has fallen asleep against, and they weren't so heartless as to wake him and seek him to choose, the Healer was right, he had latched onto his soon to be Captain.

Abraxos and Puriel share a smile with their Captain, then one with the Healer, and stand from their seats. They know they'll still be there when they come back come morning. They bid them both a soft good night and farewell as they turn together to make their way back the Pavilion for the night.

They'll be back first thing in the Morning.

Raphael smiles when their back's disappear, reaching down to pull the blankets up over the two of them, reaching for the pillow on the bed next to them, he gestures for the Power to sit forward slightly, and he does, mindful about the little angel curled up against his chest, and the Healer places another pillow behind him, he's recline back, when he lays back down again, but still elevated for the young Elect to sleep comfortably. "It'll save your back as you rest through the night." He smiles at the Power, reaching forward to brush his long bangs back, curling them back around his ear, smiling tenderly. "You get some sleep as well, it was an exhausting day for you too, don't think I above drugging you as well." The Power snorts softly as he settles back comfortably. "Because we both know I'm not."

"I'll sleep, I swear, there is no need to drug me."

"Good. You better. Because, I will."

He caresses his cheek lightly and stands back up. "I'll be around to check on you two in a bit. If you know what's good for you, you'll be asleep when I return."

"I'll be sleeping like a fledgling."

"I'm going to hold you to that."

…

Puriel and Abraxos returned the next morning, carrying a change of clothes for them both, a blanket draped over Abe's arm. They greeted them both softly, surprised to see the clouded honey colored eyes watching them silently, sleepy and slightly unaware.

Nisroc returns their greeting, brushing the young Elects curls back gently, those honey colored eyes slowly lift from them to look up in the direction of the large warm hand stroking his curls back, before they slide back down to settle back on them once more.

"Hello, brothers."

"Hello."

"Hello, Nis," Abraxos kneels before the edge of the bed, holding back the sad sigh when the young Elect, the one that he had chosen, flinches back slightly, it's a languid movement, easy to miss if you weren't paying attention, but he is, and he sees it, it breaks his heart at the sight of it. But he pretends he doesn't see it. "Hello, Tus. We missed you dearly. Do you need anything?"

Titus smiles slightly, it's a small smile, slightly pained, but a small smile that they can work with. He returns the smile wholeheartedly and reaches out slowly to brush his fingertips over his cheek lightly, Titus flinches softly again, but doesn't give an indication that he doesn't welcome the gentle touch, as he closes his eyes softly at the tender gesture.

Nisroc smiles down at them, the little angel had been awake since they had bathed him this morning and changed the bandages, his long curls had been pulled back in a small bun on the back of his head, keeping them from his eyes, and getting in the way when they cared for the wounds wrapped around his neck. "He's fine, sleepy, but fine. We ate breakfast, had some water, got a bath and new bandages, took a tonic for pain relief, and we've been laying here since." He scratched a finger under the younger angel's chin, and Titus tilts his head slightly, looking up at him with half lidded eyes. "Didn't we?" Titus smiles again, another small smile, and rubs his cheek lightly against the elder Power's chest, turning back down to look at his other older brother.

Abe smiles at him gently. "You had quite an active morning, little bird."

Puriel sets their clothes on the table next to their bedside and kneels next to his brother, smiling in similar greeting to their young Elect. "Good morning, baby boy."

He gets a small smile for himself and he absorbs it as much as he can. He reaches forward to rubs his cheek lightly with his knuckle. "We're going to take good care of you, okay?"

Titus nods slightly, curling his fingers loosely in the front of the Captain's tunic, nuzzling his cheek against his chest again.

He smiles down at him, stroking his thumb over his cheek lightly, watching as his eyes close gently. "He's a bit out of it. The tonic was rather strong."

"We can see that. He seems aware enough though. He recognizes us, at least."

"I wouldn't say he's _that_ out of it."

They talk quietly between themselves for the rest of the day, pausing only to eat the lunch their given, for the next tonic to be given to their young angel, and to eat supper when it's given. The Healer is busy with paperwork, so it's Oren that handles his nighttime bathing and changing of the bandages, discharging him from their care and into the care of his older brothers.

All three of them help him to his feet slowly, not wanting to overwhelm him as he rises and bring about any dizziness or nausea should he rise to fast, Abraxos curled the blanket around him like it's a cloak, covering his head with it and curling it around his shoulders. Titus is still small enough to be carried, and Nisroc squatted before him, guiding him forward, and the young Elect straddled his waist, curling his legs around his waist slightly, and the elder Power curled his arms around him as he stood up.

A warm nose rubs against the side of his neck as the young angel laid his head down on his older brother's shoulder, having been given his sleeping drought for the night, he'd be asleep before they returned to the Pavilion.

Puriel had a large satchel hanging over his shoulder, filled with all the droughts and tonic for the coming weeks, until his own creations would be suffice for him, and Abraxos held their soiled clothing, it would be laundered by the end of the week.

"Ready?" They nod to their Captain, and he nods in return, mindful of the young angel resting against his shoulder, tucked into the side of his neck. He thanks the Virtue softly, Oren smiles and bids him welcome, watching them as they turn, and only turns back to his own duties when they disappear from sight.

…

Bathing and Changing the bandages is an ordeal, as they soon learn, and the young Elect fights them on every turn. The soap and warm water irritate the raw skin, and the disinfectant burns when it's applied, and he wants no part of it, he's been through enough pain, he wants no more, and fights them the entire time.

It gets them to the point that their Captain holds him steady, pressed back against his chest, as they tend to his front, then as they tend to his back, and holds his head steady as they tend to the deep wounds on his neck. Despite how much he screamed and cried, pulling at the string in his heart that wanted to pull him close and comfort him away from his pain, despite how much he lashes out, hitting and kicking, anything to get them away from him.

He sobs, heaving gut wrenching sobs, his arms trapped and head held back, tilted up, as the disinfectant is rubbed into the broken runes, Puriel stands over his legs, held securely by Abraxos, to keep him from kicking out. Nisroc holds him by the waist, and one hand curled around his forehead, keeping his head pressed back against his shoulder, cooing and whispering words of comfort in his ear as they work quickly. Titus's chest heaves with sobs when they finally work their way around his neck, completing their task, and Puriel wraps the bandages around his neck, and then he steps away to wash his hands. Abe lets go of the young Elects feet and Nisroc turns him around in his lap, pressing him close to his chest, rubbing soothing circles against his lower back.

"Ssshhhh, sshhhh little guy, you're okay." He tucks him against the crook of his shoulder. "We're done," for tonight, "it's all done. It's alright, you're okay." Titus curls against him, fingers curling tightly into his tunic, and he sobs against his neck, gut wrenching, deep sobs. "You need to calm down, little angel, you're going to make yourself sick and you don't want that. Take a deep breath," he rubs his thumb over the young angel's cheek. "Hey, hey, I need you to take a deep breath for me." Titus stutters, choking back a sob, and inhales deeply. "Hold it, hold it in for a minute." He does as he's told, his sobs dying in his chest, fingers scratch at his lower back gently. "Now, let it go." Titus exhales, his sobs quenched, he sniffles and breaths frantically as his lungs try and refill with much needed oxygen, still curled against his savior, clutching at his tunic for dear life. He coos down at the young angel softly, stroking his cheek still, scratching at his back still, tucking him in close. "There you go, that's it, you're just fine, I'm here. I've got you. I'm right here."

"H—H—Hurts."

"I know it does, I know, I'm sorry. We don't mean it. We just want you to get better."

Abraxos sits on the edge of the bed next to him, and they turn to the side, Nisroc leaning back against the pillows, Titus against his chest, and Abraxos pulling legs up and around to rest on the Captain's bed. Puriel returns shortly after, vial uncorked, sitting on the edge next to them, he held it out. "Here, baby bird, this'll help you feel better."

Titus pulls away from his big brother to press his lips to the edge of the vial, so the contents can be poured into his mouth, and he closes his eyes as he swallows, the slight rise and fall of his neck as he does makes it ache. The affect takes hold within a couple of minutes, and his eyes cloud over, fluttering softly. "One, more baby bird, to help you sleep." Nisroc helps him sit up so he can down the second one, and after a few more moments, his eyes flutter again, slowly closing completely.

…

Fingers stroke his curls back gently. "Tus, do you still want to be a Power?"

"Mmhmm."

…

"I'm ugly." He stares at himself in the mirror, at the raised scars that cover his chest and stomach, turning to peer at the raised scars that that spider web across his back. "I'm…I'm disfigured." He tilts his head back and runs the tips of his fingers over the raised runes scared over the skin.

His older brother chuckles lightly, tying his long hair up in a braid, beads interwoven on the strands, and looks up at him as he pins his long braid up in a bun on the back of his head. "You are not."

"I am though." He runs his fingers over the running scars across his chest. "Just _look _at me."

"What I _see _is a little Elect not in their ceremonial robes."

He reaches into his wardrobe and pulls out long leather gauntlets and sets them on his desk, then reaches in for his gold lined tunic, tugging it over his head carefully, as to not mess up his hair, he's anal like that, if you ask his brothers. Reaching back into his wardrobe, he pulls out the leather belt, curling it around his waist, he buckles it, four holes in.

Looking back over to the young Elect staring at himself forlornly in the mirror, he sighs, bare feet padding against the warm stone floor as he crosses to stand behind him. Titus hasn't hit his growth spurt yet, he comes to stand at his lower chest, he smiles to him in the mirror and he sighs sadly, running his fingers back over his neck. "This ceremony, the one you _should _be dressing for, is for _you, _little Elect. No one will see them under your tunic, not that you should feel that you should hide them, you're just the same as you've always been."

"Easy for you to say." He glares at him in the mirror. "You don't look like this."

"Okay, I can see you need some help." He bends slightly, curling his fingers around the young Elect, soon to be Power's, middle and stands back up to his full height, lifting the young angel off his feet, Titus yelps, kicking out as he's lifted off his feet. "We're going to be a bit late, but seeing as it's for you, I don't think we can _actually _be late."

The elder Power turns towards his bed, coming to stand at the edge, he tosses the younger angel forward. Titus shrieks as he flies forward, kicking his legs and winding his arms, as he tumbles over on the bed below him. He turns over onto his back, crawling away from the larger angel, but fingers catch him around the ankles and tug him back down. "I'm only going to warn you once," he looms over him, eyes staring into his, a mischievous light shining in them. "You ruin my hair and I'll _end _you."

Titus giggles lightly, squirming under him, tugging on his legs when his older brother sits between them. One hand curls just above his left knee, pressing his leg down against the bed, and finger wiggle lightly against his thigh, shrieking softly, he kicks, his leg squirming and wiggling under his touch. "Hold still, you wiggle worm, I'm trying to _help _you." He digs his fingers into his inner thigh and the young angel squeals brightly, kicking harder, using the heel of his free foot to try and push himself away. Worst discovery that had ever been made by his soon to be Captain. "Don't think I've forgotten about this one." He lets go of his left leg and turns to the right, fingers curling around his ankle, he pulls his foot around, wiggling a finger over his sole. The young Elect, soon to be Power, shrieks, high pitched giggles flowing from his lips like water down a creek. "Oh, a sensitive little footsie, I know better though, don't I," he places his finger between his big toe and second toe, the younger angel cracking up already. "It's the little toes that get you, isn't it?" He wiggles his finger and the young Elect shrieks, arching his back as he tugs desperately at his captive foot, the Captain huffs when he kicks him between the shoulders. "You little stink." Five fingers dig under his toes and he squeals brightly, arching his back again, pressing his head back against the pillow under him. "Say you're sorry for kicking me or I'm pulling out the big guns."

He'd hoped the stubborn little angel would shake his head, giggles bursting from him at the brief pause in his torture, shaking his head when his older brother turns back to look at him. "Oh, I'll get you to apologize." He turns back to his captured foot, curling the fingers of both hands around his small foot, and lifts it from off his thigh. Titus screams with laughter, shouting apology after apology, as his older brother starts nibbling at his toes, tugging desperately when he rubs his chin under his toes, rubbing his beard into the sensitive skin. "Told you I'd get you to apologize."

Titus breaths feverishly when he sets his foot back down, turning around where he sits, laying over his waist, he wiggles his fingers lightly over his hips, he giggles lightly and squirms under him. "Let's play a game." He stills his fingers and looks up at the younger angel under him. "You want to play a game?"

Despite his best judgement, he nods, he knows it's a bad idea, but's been through a lot and he wants to play with his older brother. So, he nods, smiling brightly up at his older brother.

Nisroc smiles up at him. "You do?" He wiggles his forefingers into his sides lightly and he giggles, squirming from side to side. "Great. This game is called the Treasure Map game", he places a finger over one of the winding scars above his belly button. "We follow the trail and see if we can find treasure at the end. You ready to play?" Titus giggles softly and nods, sucking in his belly, it makes his older brother chuckle softly. He traces his finger around the winding scar, smiling at the steady stream of giggles that follows, running his fingers along the ridge of the scar slowly. "It's going round and around, I wonder what will be at the end." He traces the scar around his belly, and down to his left side, smiling lightly. "Oh, it ends here, I wonder what our treasure is." He wiggles his fingers into his side, the younger angel jolts lightly, exploding into a fit of laughter. "Oh, I've found some gold." Titus shrieks, leaning to the side, away from the wiggling fingers. "Where you going?" He switches side and the Elect jumps slightly, throwing his head back, howling with laughter. "I'm not done searching yet."

He finds another scar, tracing the winding path upwards, the little angel squirming under him with steady giggles. "Oh," he stops just beside his arm, it's clamped tightly down, he's not lifting it for the life of him. "It leads to a clam; I wonder what's under it." Titus giggles harder, shaking his head when his older brother turns to look at him, not lifting it for the life of him. "Raise your arm, little angel, lift it up." He shakes his head frantically side to side, biting his lower lip in an attempt to stave off his giggles. "Raise it, or I'll do it for you, you're not keeping me from my treasure." He shakes his head again, curling his arm around himself tighter, and his older brother chuckles lightly. "I'm warning you that you don't want me to. I'm going to get to my treasure."

"No!"

"Okay, but remember, I warned you." Titus giggles harder when fingers curl around his wrist, he tries as hard as he might, but he's no match for his older brother, and his arm's raised with little to no resistance. "I wonder what it could be." He scoots forward slightly, poking a finger into the hollow of his under arm, and he shrieks, tugging at his captive arm. "Oh, I almost had it, just a bit more, maybe a few more fingers will help me unbury it." He wiggles two fingers into his armpit and he shrieks again, laughing brightly, tugging at his arm again. "Oh, I found another batch of gold."

He smiles over at his younger brother. "Did you wash under here this morning?" The little angel nods, giggling softly, smiling brightly at his older brother. Nisroc smiles down at him. "Maybe I should check, we can't have our little Elect all stinky for his big day, now can we." Titus shakes his head, his giggles picking up in quantity again, tugging at his arm again. "I'm going to check." He buries his nose into his underarm and the little angel squeals, turning towards him, laughing hysterically as he inhales dramatically, shaking his head playfully. "Nihihihihis!"

"I'm just making sure it smells good." He shakes his head again and the young angel shrieks brightly, reaching up to smack his head, Nisroc pulls back and catches his hand. "You ruin the hair, I ruin you." He pulls his hand back. "That's what I thought."

He settles himself over his belly, resting on his elbows, and looks down into his younger brother's bright eyes. "What about those little treasure lines on your neck?" Titus's eyes widen and he shakes his head, giggles picking up into laughter, and he tries to scrunch his shoulders up. His soon to be Captain tilts his head to the side though, "oh, look, this one still has a scab over it. Let me kiss it better for you." Titus squeals when he presses little kisses over the side of his neck, scrunching his shoulder up as best as he can, he stops his kisses and reaches over to trace a finger over the other side of his neck, he shrieks and scrunches up on the other side. "Oh, this is the treasure chest." He blows a raspberry against the other side of his neck and Titus squeals again, howling with bright laughter, shaking his head frantically.

Nisroc pulls back, leaning down to kiss his nose. "Feeling better?"

Titus shrugs, giggling feverishly when he wiggles his fingers down at him, and nods quickly. "I feel better!"

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure!"

"Good," his brother kisses his cheek quickly and sets up, patting his cheek lightly. "Now, go get ready, or you'll be even more late to _your _ceremony." Titus giggles lightly and crawls off the Captain's large bed. "And, you better put those curls up, if I have to wear my hair up, you have to wear yours up too."

"Yes, big brother." He smiles cheekily to his older brother and Nisroc jumps forward as if to swat him forward and he jumps away. "Go get changed you cheeky little Elect."

"Not for very much longer!" He calls over his shoulder as he runs from his older brother's room. "I'm going to be a _Power _soon!"

"Right, then you'll be a cheeky little Power, nothing will change."


	133. Getting Even

Sorath giggles to himself as they crossed the training field, watching the other Powers address their newest new recruits with that unusually out of character sternness that wouldn't last for the duration of the week, explaining the rules and expectations of each and every one of them now that they had been accepted into the warriors flock. His eyes surfed over them all, taking in their similar posture, he hid his smile behind his hand as him and Sabaoth walked side by side across the field for the entrance, making their way to their post at the Prison. He spots a familiar back, arms crossed over his chest tightly, long hair in a bun a top his head, much like how Saba wore his, completely immersed in what he was doing.

He giggles again and pokes his elbow in his older brother's side, Sabaoth looks down at him curiously, and follows his line of sight, chuckling softly to himself. "Just don't let him catch you."

The young guard nods, darting off from his brother's side, crossing the field silently to stand behind the Captain, unknowing that someone was hiding behind him, his new recruits saw him though, and watched with wide curious eyes, waiting on baited breath to see what someone of his stature would do to someone of Nisroc's.

He giggles softly and reaches up, digging his fingers sharply into the Power Captain's ribs, laughing brightly when the Captain lets loose an undignified shriek, throwing his hands up in surprise, jumping forward involuntarily, and he darts off just as the Power spins around, laughing as the Power points at him threateningly. "Just you wait, little guy, you'll get what's coming to you."

Titus chuckles softly, waving to the young guard as him and his partner disappear down the stairs, standing with the group next to his brother. "I can't believe he actually managed to make you shriek like a fledgling."

"Keep it up and I'll make _you _shriek like a fledgling."

…

He waits for the right moment to strike, he knows the little guard knows it's coming, he wants him to stew in it for a while, and he bids his time waiting. He knows that his moment it coming, Tus has been away all week, and when he gets back, he always sleeps in the captain's room with him for the first night, and he waits in the shadows of his doorway for him to cross in front of his room.

And he snatches him up as soon as he's in range, Sorath shrieks in surprise at being tugged up off his feet, yanked over through the doorway of the Captain's room.

"You know what happens when you get me?" He smiles up at the young angel, he giggles down at him, shaking his head softly. "I get you back." The Power carries the young guard to his bed, tossing him down playfully over his bed, Sorath shrieks lightly as he falls forward, rolling over the Powers bed, fingers curl around his lower legs, tugging him back towards the other edge of the bed before he can roll over the far side. "I'm going to show you just what happens to those who think they can get me." He tugs the laces of his boots free, tugging his boots off, he's not getting dirt from the training field onto his clean bed. Sorath giggles harder, turning over in an attempt to crawl away from him, fingers curl around his ankles and pull him back though, tugging him under the looming Captain, huffing slightly at the sudden weight over top of him, and squealing with laughter when fingers dig into his sides harshly, wiggling up to his underarms, digging in there, and then race back down again, they curl under him to dig into the sides of his belly and he squeals again when they race back up to his underarms.

He screams with laughter when a beard brushes over the side of his neck, lips press to the smooth skin, and he blows a vicious raspberry against his neck, fingers wiggling under his arms still, and he starts to kick behind him, trying to pull himself out, desperate to get away from those torturous fingers.

He inhales deeply when the fingers finally pull away, arms curl under him, around his tummy, and fingers dig into his sides as he's turned over, laying over top of the mighty Power, kicking wildly and tugging at his hands feverishly. He burrows back into his neck, and he squeals, scrunching up on himself. "You see what happens to those who try and get me?" Fingers spider wildly over his belly and he shrieks with laughter, throwing his head back against the Power's shoulder, fingers dig into his lower belly and he shrieks with laughter again. "They get tickle tortured."

"If you really want to tickle torture my little angel, you have to know how, you have to know all those little special spots."

Sorath giggles breathlessly when the torment halts, as they both look up to the doorway, Titus smiles at them, waving a few fingers to the small guard his brother is punishing, Sorath smiles brightly and waves back, he's so happy Tus is back. He missed Tus greatly. He was gone for so long. Chuckling, the younger Power leans against the door frame, looking up from his little angel's eyes to those of his older brother. "Would you like me to show you?"

"Why, brother, I would be honored if you'd show me." Nisroc pokes him in the belly playfully and he giggles, squirming lightly, watching his captain with wide shining eyes. Titus bows slightly, pushing away from the doorframe. "It would be my pleasure, brother dearest, no one knows my little angel quite like I do."

The Guards captain sits on the edge of the bed, curling his fingers around the young angels knee, pulling his leg closer to him. "Spot number one; the inner thigh." Sorath's eyes widen in surprise, and squeals with laughter when he digs the fingers of his free hand into the meat of his inner thigh, wiggling his fingers in deeply, squeezing down to his knee and then back up again, holding tightly to the kicking leg he's torturing. "Hold him down." Nisroc laughs softly in his ear as he curls his arms around him tightly, keeping him from moving away, and he squirms and kicks with the might of a mad man, cackling with laughter, head pressed back against the Power's shoulder.

He breaths in deeply when the fingers finally pull away from his thigh.

"Spot number two, the belly, brother if you'd please." Nisroc nods firmly, digging his fingers into either side, wiggling in deeply, and he squeals again, kicking wildly against his hold, making him shriek was still worth it though, it was always worth it.

Sorath kicks his captain in the shoulder, catching him by surprise, and he tumbles over the edge of the bed in his surprise. He turns over in the Captain's hold, curling his arms down around him, pressing his cheek to his chest, he digs his fingers into his ribs. Nisroc shrieks brightly, laughter making his chest rumble under his ear, his arms curling tighter around the young guard in his shock. Titus sits up, rubbing at his shoulder lightly, and snorts at his older brother's high pitched laughter. "I forgot how amusing it was to watch someone get you."

"Yoohohohou trahahahhaaitor!"

Nisroc inhales deeply, digging his thumbs into the young guard's hips, he shrieks and curls, enabling him to curl his fingers around his waist and throw him to the side. Jumping from his bed, he curls his arms around the younger Power, digging his fingers into his sides. Titus shrieks in surprise, again, and curls up on himself. Sorath straightens, smiling at the sight the two Power's make, and decides to come to his captain's rescue. Standing on the edge of the bed, he launches himself forward, coming to land on the Captain's back.

He yelps in surprise, stumbling forward from the momentum, hands flying back to curl around the legs of the angel hanging from his back.

Turning to his brother, Nisroc tilts his head slightly. "Tus, why stand against each other when we can stand as one against our little guy."

"Good point."

Sorath knows when he's being turned against, his eyes widen as they both turn to look at him, from over the Captain's shoulder, and he shrieks lightly, sliding down from the oldest Power's back, kicks softly at his knees, laughing as he stumbles forward into the other Power, and takes that as his moment of escape.

He laughs as he runs down the hall, shrieking when he hears the sound of feet following him, and arms catch him around the waist. He slams back into someone's chest, they huff lightly at the impact, and he struggles against his confines as his captain steps out from behind him, the arms tighten around his waist. "Oh, little angel, good maneuver, bad idea."

"Indeed," The Captain's voice rumbles behind him, a beard rubs lightly against his ear, and he giggles at them both. "We were going to go easy on you, perhaps not now though, you deserve some torture after that."

Titus squats in front of him, looking up to the older Power above them. "Hold him still." Arms slide up to curl around his chest, trapping his arms against his sides, his captain smiles at him, staring into his wide eyes as he positions his fingers over his lower belly. "I'm going to torture this little belly." Sorath giggles, sucking in his belly as best as he can, it shakes with repressed giggles. He shrieks when those fingers wiggle in, squirming side to side, pressing his head back against the oldest Power's chest. "You can't get this belly away from me." He shrieks again when the fingers wiggle up to his belly more fully, fingers curl around his sides gently, and thumbs dig into either side of his belly button. "The best spot to get revenge though, out of all the spots, is the belly. Do you know why the belly is the best, Sora?" He shakes his head, squirming under him, shrieking when he claws his fingers over the middle of his belly. "Because this belly is the best spot for tickles, it can't handle the simplest flutter of fingers, especially when someone lifts your tunic up, and," he lifts the tunic up, takes a deep breath, and presses a raspberry over his belly button. The young angel squeals brightly, screaming with laughter when he buries his face into the side of his belly and blows another raspberry, then he jumps to the other side and does the same, the young guard cackling hysterically all the while, squirming and kicking out. "I told you this belly was going to be tickle tortured." He curls his fingers around his hips, takes another deep breath, and blows a vicious raspberry just under his belly button. Sorath howls with laughter, arching his back, pressing his head back into the oldest Power's chest. Titus pulls away, chuckling at his misery, and looks up at his older brother. "Nis, would you like a go at this belly?"

"I think I'll pass on the belly, I would like a chance at those thighs though, that was rather amusing to see."

"Of course, let's get him set down then."

Which is how he ends up howling with laughter, arms curled around his belly, twisting from side to side, as his legs sit in two laps, restrained above the knee, and fingers kneading into his inner thighs. He squeals and shrieks, arching his back when fingers crawl underneath, wiggling into his under thigh, his leg straightening stiffly as he lifts himself up, trying to pull away from the fingers digging into the sensitive skin underneath. His captain chuckles. "Good idea." And then another set of fingers are wiggling underneath his other thigh, he screams with laughter, shrieks high pitched, like a fledgling, as fingers wiggle and pinch at his under thighs. They carry on for a few minutes, switching between his inner thighs and his under thighs, jolting and jumping every time they the switch between the two spots.

Then they jump up to his belly, laying over the leg they had held captive, and lift his tunic up to reveal his belly, sharing a nod, they both take a deep breath, and press into either side of his belly blowing vicious raspberries at the same time. Sorath screams, cackling as they take another deep breath and blow more raspberries, one after another, he bucks his hips, curling his fingers into both of their hair, tugging desperately.

They pull away at the same time, wiggling fingers in his lower belly lightly, and he giggles breathlessly, squirming from side to side. Nisroc smiles up at him, as he shrieks, his captain digging his finger into a spot he knows to be rather sensitive. "Are you sorry you came to get me?"

Sorath nods frantically, stuttering apologies between breathless giggles, pleading for mercy.

Nisroc chuckles softly and nods, poking his younger brother in the side to gain his attention, turning back to smile up at the young guard. "I forgive you, but, if it happens again, I won't let you go so easily." They sit up from over his legs, chuckling fondly as he curls up on himself, giggling faintly even still.

The Captain turns to his younger brother, and his eyes widen at the familiar expression, and tries to stumble away when arms catch him around the waist and pull him back, between his older brothers legs, held securely, his brother's breath hits his neck softly. "Your turn." And buries his face against the side of his neck.

Titus shrieks just like his little angel does, they come to find out, Nisroc thinks the entire thing is hilarious.


	134. A Few Inches Taller

"I don't like standing here."

Both older guards share an amused glance and look down to the younger guard, Sabaoth tilts his head slightly in fond amusement, meeting the younger guards aggravated eyes. "Why not, Sora?"

"Because I'm so short!" He throws his hands up dramatically. "You guys are like mountains compared to me! I have to look up to talk to you! I'm a midget!"

"You're small, yes," he pats his head gently and the younger angel bats his hand away. "But it's cute."

"I can't even pat your head back when you pat mine!"

Osmadiel and Sabaoth exchange another amused glance before turning back to the shorter guard. "Do you want to be tall for a bit?"

"You can make me taller!"

"Well, no," Sabaoth squats slightly. "But you can ride on my shoulders for a bit, if you want."

"Yes!" Sorath hops forward, pumping his fist in the air, climbing over his older brother's shoulders to sit. The older angel curls his fingers around his ankles, Osmadiel crosses behind them, holding his lower back as the oldest guard stands, ensuring he doesn't fall off as Sabaoth rises to his feet. Sorath giggles excitedly, his fingers curling in his older brother's hair lightly, and he chuckles softly at his excitement. "Happy now?"

"You're so tall! I can see everything!"

Osmadiel smiles at them in amusement, his brother is so taken with the younger guard, its amusing to watch them together. "Aren't your shoulders going to get sore?"

"He's a lightweight. I can handle it for a short while."

"Saba?" Sorath tugs at his hair lightly and he tilts his head up in the sign that he has his attention. "Can we go see Tus?"

"Yes, we can go see Tus."

The stares they get as the walk down the Axis goes ignored, Sabaoth simply pays them no mind and Sorath is still too excited to notice, making their way down the street towards the Training Fields, Titus is training his new squadron and wouldn't mind a visit from his 'little angel'.

Stepping into the Training Field, they go noticed immediately, warriors turning and watching them as they cross the field for their captain. "Tus! Tus!" He turns at the call of his name, smiling at them as they approach, looking up to his young angel riding on his older brother's shoulders. "Hi, Tus!"

"Hello, Sora," he smiles at them both in fond amusement. "What are you doing up there?"

"I'm tall now!"

"You most certainly are."


	135. Saved By The Captain

"No one here to save you this time." He stretches over the captive Elect's legs, smiling at his anticipatory giggles, he knows what's about to happen. Sablo shakes his head frantically, a smile splitting across his face already, giggles pouring from him like water down a stream as the Power thoroughly traps him under his body, there's no chance of escaping what's about to happen. "It's just you, me, and my adorably ticklish little belly." Sablo's giggles increase when he tugs his tunic up, uncovering his giggly shaking belly, and he raises a wiggling finger, hovering just over his belly. "My ticklish little belly that I can play with for as long as I want, the others are away for the day, and you're at my complete mercy." The wiggling finger lowers slowly and his giggles grow harder, turning into soft laughter, watching the wiggling finger with wide attentive eyes. "I'm going to tickle torture this belly as much as I want to, it's going to get the tickle torture of it's life, are you ready for it?"

Sablo shakes his head frantically, laughing brightly as the finger grows closer and closer, he knows firsthand how torturous Puriel is. He remembers last time all to well, and the time after that, and after that, his belly gets tickled more then it doesn't. Puriel likes playing with his belly.

"It's coming to get you." He stops his finger just above his belly button, and the young Elect shrieks brightly, even though nothing happens yet, it causes the Power to chuckle at him. "It's going to tickle, isn't it?" He wiggles his finger again. "It's going to tickle your little ticklish belly, isn't it?" He finally pokes his finger into his belly button, and the young Elect shrieks again, brighter and louder then the first one, twitching his hips from side to side, laughing brightly as he twists his finger and wiggles it against his belly button, Sablo kicks his legs and shakes his head from side to side laughing like a madman. It's only one finger and it's driving him crazy. It only takes one finger to bring him down. Puriel is going to kill him. He's going to die from laughter today. His belly tingles just thinking about what's to come.

"Is this all it really takes?" He moves his wiggling finger from his belly button to the side of his belly, wiggling in there now, and the younger angel jolts at the sudden change, shrieking with mad laughter. "One finger and you're already a mess." He stops his wiggling finger and holds up his other hand, one finger raised. "But what about two?" He wiggles both fingers on either side of his belly button and the young angel shrieks brightly, cackling as he jolts and arches his back, batting at his hands as much as he can, it causes no deterrence. "I barely have to touch this little belly and you lose it." He brings his two wiggling fingers down to wiggle under his belly button and the Elect shrieks again, arching his back, squirming from side to side. "We're getting all warmed up for the real tummy tickle torture, aren't we?"

Sablo squeals when five fingers wiggle softly over the right side of his belly, laughing boisterously batting at the fingers digging in the side of his belly, drilling his heels against the mattress of the medic's bed. "Just a bit more and then we'll really begin." He wiggles five fingers in on the other side and he shrieks again, throwing his arms out in ticklish agony. Fingers wiggle under his arms, and he jumps in surprise, squealing brightly. "Oh, your little armpits want some attention too?" He shakes his head, kicking wildly, as much as he can with the Power trapping his legs. "Bahahaheheheahhahaha noohhohahoahaohaoooo!"

"Oh, you can talk, I thought I'd broken you already." The fingers return to his belly, tapping rhythmically against the sensitive giggly skin. "And we're barely just getting started. That was just a warm up, now we get to the nitty gritty, you're about to have the most tickly tickle torture of your life."

Sablo shrieks at the thought of it, shaking his head frantically, he knows what comes with that, he knows all too well. Puri's going to ruin him, he's going to die, this is the day he dies from laughter.

Puriel smiles down at him, poking around his belly playfully, he giggles brightly, high pitched, fledglinglike giggles, it's heartwarming. He jolts and jumps with every poke. "And, thus begins the tickle torture." Ten fingers dig into his lower belly, and he screams with laughter, throwing his head back with bright boisterous laughter. They spider all over, leaving no spot untouched, and he squirms from side to side frantically, trying to wiggle the fingers away, they only dig in harder and he snorts, shrieking brightly. "Hahahahahahaaeahahaeahaha! Stototoohohohahahahiaaop! Nohohoaoahahahoahoaoo!" He laughs at the expense of the young angel's, pulling his fingers back, wiggling them up above him playfully.

Sablo catches his breath, or struggles to, what with the ceaseless giggles pouring from his lips, watching the wiggling fingers with wide bright eyes. "Dohohon't!"

"Don't what?"

"Tihihickle mehehe!"

"Tickle you?" The fingers drop into his belly, wiggling in again, spidering over the smooth sensitive skin. "If you want me to."

Sablo shrieks with laughter, shaking his head again. "NOhohohohosoaoaoaoahaho! NO! Tihihiiichles! TICKLES!"

"It tickles?" Ten fingers spider over to his left side, wiggling up and down, and he twists, managing to only twist up onto his right side, leaving the left open for tickles, his plan backfired on him. Ten fingers wiggle in, one at the top and one at the side, a finger manages to worm its way under his arm and he arches his back, even up on his side, squealing again, kicking his legs under them. "Does it tickle here too?"

Puriel chuckles softly, pulling the young Elects arm back slightly, and digs more fingers under his arm. "I personally prefer my belly, but these little armpits need attention too, we can't leave them untouched." He curls his fingers around his left side and turns him back over onto his back. "There's my belly." Clawing his right hand over his belly, the young Elect shrieks once more, pressing his head back into the pillow under him. "But we got the left, we can't forget the right." Ten fingers move over to his right side, spidering up and down in a tickly dance, Sablo twists back up, up onto his left side, he hates how his plans always backfire on him. They preform a tickly dance up and down his side, fingers curl around his wrist and pull his arm aside, allowing him to wiggle some fingers under his right arm, digging into his armpit mercilessly. He tugs desperately at his arm, he figures he can't fight him off, the least he can do is try and protect himself as much as he can. He tugs him back around and crosses his hands over his belly, wiggling a finger into his lower belly lightly. "I need my belly back now." He smiles down at him. "Do you want some berries?"

His eyes widen, not those, those are horrible, he's had a number of raspberries since he'd first moved up here and thus far, _his _are the worst. "No! NO! I don't! I don't want any berries! No, thank you! Pass!"

"Oh, I want to give you some berries, they're on me."

"NO! No! Nohoho! Get away!" His laughter picks up as the Power takes a deep breath, puffing his cheeks up, and looms over his belly, he presses his hands to the Power's face and tries to push him away, laughing harder as his head slowly lowers. "Nohohot thooahahahahose! NOT THOSE! Get away! Gehehehehahaheheet awahahahaway!" He squeals brightly when his face presses against his belly, laughing like a madman even as he just sits there, he knows he's just letting him stew in it, building up the anticipation for a moment.

And then he blows his monstrous raspberry, shaking his head, blowing it over his belly button. And he squeals again, brighter than the first time, louder. "IEIEIEIIAHHAHAHAHAHEHAHAEHEHEHAHA!" He shakes his head frantically from side to side, arching his back, shrieking as arms wind under him, curling around his waist, fingers poking into his sides on both sides. Puri sits up, taking another deep breath, tilting his head to the side slightly, over the side of his belly, and Sablo shrieks. "Not again! Nohohoahahahaot agahahahaiaahahain! Stay away! STAY AWAYIEIEEIEEEHAHAHAHHEHAHEHEHAHA!" His protest is cut off with another monstrous raspberry blown against the side of his belly. "BAHAHAHEHEHAHAHA! NO MORE! NOOO MOOORE!"

"Oh, we've got more coming." He takes another deep breath and leans over to the other side of his belly, Sablo laughs feverishly, pushing against his head desperately. "Stay away! NO! No, no, no! Not another! Stahahahahaay awahahahaay!" His attempts are in vain, as his lips press against the other side of his belly, and blow their vicious raspberry again. Sablo squeals loudly, kicking his legs wildly, arching his back again. "IEIEIEIEEHAHAHAHAHEHEHHEHEAHAA! NOOOO! STOOOP! IEEIEIAHHAHAHA!" He blows a raspberry again, softer than the first one, and then he pulls back again, there's a pattern that never changes, it's worse if he sees him take his breath. "PURI NO! BAD! No! Nononono! STAY AWAY! Not again! Nohohot agahahahaiihihiain!" Lips press against his lower belly and rest there, he rubs his nose in and it causes him to shriek brightly, then he presses in deep and lets his raspberry go. Sablo squeals wildly, squirming like a worm on a hook as those fingers dig back into his sides, drilling his heels into the bed. "IEIEIEEHEHAHAHAHAHAHA! NO! NOEEEIEIEIEHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHHAHAHA! STOP! STOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAAOAOAOP! IEEEEHHAHAHEHEHAHA! PUHUHHAHAHAHURIIEIEEEEAHAHAHAEHA!" Sablo squeals with every little raspberry that's blown over the surface of his belly. Every one sends tickly vibrations echoing through his belly, bouncing off of every nerve, as his cackles fall silent.

Puriel pulls back after that, if only for a minute, letting him catch his breath. He unwinds his arms from under him and rests on his elbows, as Sablo's chest heaves for air, giggling breathlessly up at him. "This would typically be the time Nis would come in to rescue his _favorite _little elect, but he's not here, is he, it's just you and me, isn't it?"

"I wouldn't be so quick to make assumptions, _little _brother."

Sablo breaths a deep, giggly sigh of relief, looking over the medics shoulder to his savior. Long warm fingers curl around the medics middle and pull him around, tugging him over onto his back, next to the tortured little Elect, and Puriel smiles up at his older brother. "Hey, Nis, uummm, what are you doing here?"

"Well, my lessons ended early today and I thought to myself, let me go check on my little Elect, and imagine my surprise when I come to stand in the Lounge and hear those bright squeals echoing down the hall, so I thought I'd come to check things out." He smiles down at the medic. "Have you been abusing my favorite little Elect again?

"No. Not at all."

"My little Sab," he turns to the winded youngster curled up next to them. "Did he tickle torture you again?"

Sablo giggles tiredly, nodding languidly, and Nisroc turns back to the medic under him. Puriel smiles up at him. "Maybe?"

"Right, let me remind you what happens when you torture my favorite little Elect." He curls his fingers around the medic's wrists, pulling them up over his head, using one of his hands to keep them there, he holds a finger up over his left underarm. "Are you ready for a taste of your own medicine?"

"Nihihis! I'm sohohorry!"

"Not yet, your not, but you will be."

By the time he lets the medic go, his laughter has fallen silent, and tears sparkle in his eyes. Somehow, unbeknownst to his older brothers, Sablo had managed to fall asleep next to them on the bed. Nisroc smiles at him as he stands from over his younger brother's waist, stepping around the bed, he twists the young elect around, pulling him softly into his arms and lifts him from the medic's bed.

He winks down at his younger brother. "You take a nap, Puri."

The medic nods slightly crawling under his blankets and curling up on his side, nodding off silently.

Shaking his head fondly, he turns out the door, carrying the young Elect with him. Abraxos comes up behind them, Abraxas riding on his back, her chin resting on his shoulder. The Power takes one look at their sleeping little Elect and then peeks in on their sleeping medic. "Puri get too big for his britches again."

"He's lucky I'm fond of him." They share an amused smile and turn down the hall. Nisroc smiles over his shoulder to their baby girl, she returns his smile, resting her chin back on her older brother's shoulder. "What are you two up to?"

"We're going to go take a nap."

"But I don't want to nap!" Abraxos turns his head slightly, kissing their baby sister on the cheek lightly, she huffs but leans her head against his neck. "Like I said, we're going to take a nap."

"But, Abe-"

"We're going to cuddle together and take a nap, Aba."

"Okay, Abe."

Nisroc chuckles softly, stopping at the younger Power's room momentarily, leaning over to press a kiss to their baby sister's cheek. "Have a nice nap, baby bear."

"You too, Grizzly."

They turn away from each other, the Power Captain continuing down the hall, Abraxos and Abraxas turning into his room, the door cracks closed behind them.

He could drop his little Elect off in his room, but he himself is feeling up for a nap, after a hard day of lessons, and he knows for a fact that Sablo likes to cuddle when he's sleepy like this.

They'll nap together.


	136. Trouble In The Garden

"Eiael, what you did is unacceptable." Joshua stands before her, arms crossed tightly over his chest, glaring down at her with a stern glare. "I've told you, more then once, to stop referring to her as _'replacement'_."

"It's not my fault she can't take the heat!"

"You made her _cry_."

"She's weak!"

"You _threw _her basket in her face."

"She should have ducked!" Eiael, her arms crossed just as tightly as her guardians, she reaches up to poke him in the chest harshly. "It's none of _your _business anyway!"

He points a finger down at her. "Watch your tone, young lady, you don't speak to me that way."

"What are you going to do!" She recrosses her arms tightly. "You don't scare me!"

His eyes narrow slightly as he looks down at her and her defiance to his will, sighing deeply, he nods, his arms uncrossing, his hand snapping out to curl around her upper arm. "Let me show you." He marches her forward, she yelps softly as she stumbles slightly, rushing to keep up with his long strides. Maybe she had pushed him too far, maybe sassing him when he was already mad was a bad idea, she never wanted to make Josh angry at her. He wasn't fun when he was angry. They passed her canine friend, Dahlia whined softly, lowering to her belly, hiding her snout under her paws. She knew Josh was upset too. The older Gardener leads her over to an overturned tree trunk, where he sits, and yanks her over his lap, Eiael yelps as her world turns suddenly, and then she's staring at Josh's boots. Fingers curl around the waist of her knee-high trousers and tug them down slightly, until the cool air is blowing over her bare pale bottom. "I haven't had to do this in a while. I don't think I've haven't grown rusty."

She stiffens when he presses his hand to her bottom. "Josh, wait!" He lifts his hand and she tenses, listening to it come back down, yelping when it stings against her bare bottom. Joshua's hand is big and warm, it's rough from all the hard days he spends tending to the Garden. It stings with every swat, and she squirms, whining after the sixth smack, kicking out when it doesn't appear to be stopping. "Johooosh! I'm sooorrryyyy!"

"What have I told you about calling Araton _'Replacement'_, it's wrong and hurtful, she's done nothing to you." He begins his lecture, focusing his next set of swats to her left cheek. "I've told you countless times, Eiael, not to call her that." Then the next to her right cheek. "I understand you're still mad, but you aren't going to take it out on someone who hasn't done anything, that's not allowed." He lifts his leg slightly, she slips forward, and he aims the next few swats at her sit spots. "You are not going to continue to abuse her for something she had no control over, or so help me, we will do this every night."

"Joooosh!" Her whines turn into soft cries, her bottom is starting to burn, his hand stings every time it smacks her bottom firmly. "I—I'm so—sorry! P—Please st—stop! H—Hurts!"

"_And, _you're not going to disrespect me like that, ever, again. I've never stood for you disrespecting me, and I don't care how long you've been away from my side, I won't stand for it now either." He swats firmly at her thighs, making sure to leave a red hand print on the pale skin, he wants to make sure this lesson is remembered, he doesn't like having to teach it. "You will never challenge my authority again, do you understand me, you're lucky I don't take a switch to you for such blatant disrespect, you most certainly earned it, young lady."

"B—Big brother! P-Please st-stop! I'm so-sorry! I-I won't d-do i-it ev-ever ag-again!" She curls her fingers around his thigh tightly, limp over his lap, tears dripping from her eyes. "I—I'm so—sorry! N—No mo—more!"

"You're sorry for what, young lady?"

"F—For tal—talking b—back t—to yo—you."

"And?"

"Fo—For call—calling A—Araton _'Re—Replacement' _e—even tho—though yo—you t—told me n—not t—to."

Joshua nods firmly, peppering swats over both of her cheeks, her bottom turning a nice shade of crimson. "So, what are you going to do now?"

"N—Never ta—talk b—back again."

"And?"

"A—Apolo—Apologize t—to Ara—Araton."

He nods again, ending this lesson with a few harsher smacks to her reddened bottom, she squirms and cries harder, kicking her legs softly. "And, what will happen if you ever disrespect me again?"

"Y—Y—You'll t—ta—take m—me ov—over y—your kn—knee." She sobs into the side of his thigh, her fingers clutching to the leg of his trousers tightly, her bottom stinging like nothing else, she just wants it to stop.

"And, what'll happen if I ever hear you call Araton that word again?"

"Yo—You'll ta—take m—me ov—over y—your kn—knee."

Joshua lands two final smacks and stops, pulling her trousers back up, he stands her back to her feet. She sniffles into her hands, crying softly, like a well chastised fledgling. Sniffling miserably, she reaches for him, and he sighs fondly, he can't stay mad at his little bug for too long. Curling his fingers around her waist, he pulls her down, situating her on his lap, right side up this time. She settles on his lap, her legs dangling over his, curling into his shoulder lightly, crying softly at the sting in her bottom. The older Gardener rubs at her back softly, whispering words of comfort down at her, and she sniffles against his neck.

"I'm sorry Josh, I really am."

"I know you are, baby bug, I know." She nuzzles closer and he curls his arms around her, pulling her closer, kissing the side of her head. "You also have an early bedtime tonight, alright?" Eia nods softly, comfortable leaning against her guardian, sitting in his lap. Joshua spots a sun patch a few paces away and smiles, curling an arm under her knees, he huffs as he stands up. "Let's go lay down in a patch of sun and take a nap."

"Okay, Josh." The little Gardener rests her head on his shoulder. "I'd like a nap."

"Me too."


	137. Tolerated and Not Tolerated

It was not often that he, the Healer, was called to his Father's Throne room, it was not in his typical day to be summoned. So when word had come to his ears that he was wanted in the Throne Room, he was concerned, wracking his brain for anything he could have done wrong that would warrant Father's intervention, but nothing came to the forefront of his mind, he was respectful, he followed the rules laid down for them, he treated everyone in the same manner he desired to be treated, the same respect he in turn expected, even when his rules were broken or one had done a wrong doing. He was still just as gentle as was expected to come from him, still just as kind, just as respectful.

He curled his fingers together as he nods to the guards posted at the entrance of the Throne Room, Titus has ingrained the same expectation of respect for ones elders in his guards that he instills in his healers, and enters slowly, but at a quick step, not wanting to keep his Father waiting too long, and not wanting to portray his nervousness.

Father smiles at him as he approaches, though he can see the anger burning in His eyes as he does, the irritated spark that becomes more pronounced as he approaches more and more.

He bows slightly. "Father, I heard you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, yes I did," his Father smiles down at him despite His anger. "Thank you for coming, you know of my human friends and their guardian, I am sure, you've expressed some rather extreme opinions on their being." He blushes softly and nods, not understanding what they had to do with the request of his appearance, his mind automatically curling around the thought that they had managed to find themselves into trouble again, which also arose the question as to why it was _him _that was requested. It was normally Michael or Lucifer that were requested to go and aid them out of their troubles, not him, he was a Healer first and foremost, not a warrior, though he could hold his own against any opponent. "I thought you were the best one to aid them at the moment."

"What trouble have they gotten into now?"

"It amuses me that you automatically think they've gotten into trouble." He gives his Father a blank look, it causes Him to chuckle lightly. "You are correct though, they have managed to find themselves quite a predicament this time, tell me, when did you last see your younger brother?"

Raphael tilts his head slightly, he has many younger brothers. "Which one, I have many?"

"One of the ones your raised, Azrael, when did you last see Azrael?"

He hums, rubbing at his chin lightly, wracking his mind for that answer. "It's been some time, he ran away at the onset of the war, I found him shortly after, he was unhappy but behaved. He'd asked to be left alone and I respected that request, I wasn't going to drag him back to a home he clearly didn't want to be in. I kept an eye on him for a few years following that, but then he disappeared, I lost track of him and hadn't seen him since." He shrugs his shoulders lightly. "If he decides he doesn't want to be found, then he won't be, he'll disappear with the wind. He's done it before."

"Understandable, it was a touchy situation, I don't blame you for leaving him be." He nods lightly, rubbing at His own chin in turn, thinking ahead of the conversation, as He always does. "I know all too well how talented he is in disappearing, he somehow manages to hide himself from Myself as well, though I don't know how he manages to do so." He nods lightly and looks down to His archangel. "He was behaved so long as he was left alone, they have bothered him, I need you to retrieve him before the damage he brings upon them is irreparable."

"Father, if I may, why not just let them deal with the consequences of their actions?" Raphael feels a small wave of irritation bleed into him at the thought of having to aid those he would rather see on the other side of a sword. "Don't we help them enough as it is?"

"Normally, I would agree with you, My Healer, it is true that they must learn we cannot get them out of all the trouble they can cause." He leans forward slightly. "However, I fear that should we leave them this time, your brother will torture them to death."

Raphael's eyes widen slightly. "He would not, I raised him better then that, we are not barbarians."

"You did raised him better than that, I would not try and claim otherwise, but you know how his judgement turns when he is blinded by his temper." He crosses His hands over His lap. "I fear bothering him, when it was known that he wanted to be left alone, has tipped his boiling temper into the fire."

"I will retrieve him at once, tantrum or not, I will not stand for his disrespect to how I raised him to behave."

"I knew you would, I trust you still have that guardian bond with him and you can track his whereabouts through it?"

"I do, he disappeared before we could release it."

"Very good, very good, indeed."

…

Castiel screamed in agony as another hand full of flight feathers were yanked free, savagely, the action was soaked in the desire to cause as much pain as it could, and it was agonizing. He could feel the blood dripping down the bare skin of his balding wing, it stung the raw flesh as it dripped down.

He prayed desperately to their Father for help, an intervention in this cruel torture, before another handful of feathers could be torn free. He tensed at the tension growing on the next handful, preparing himself for the blinding pain, gasping in relief when he heard the ruffle of feathers of the din of tense silence.

"_Azrael!" _He thanked Father for his intervention, as the fingers were forcibly pulled from his feathers, breathing deeply at the soothing tingling sensation flowing over his wounded wing, he couldn't regrow feather, that would take time, but he could heal the wounds, stave off the pain. There was the sound of a sharp smack, undoubtedly to one's rear end, and Azrael yelps loudly, whining at the second sharp swap, jumping forward at the smarting sting. "How _dare _you bring harm to another's wings!" There's another sharp smack and he turns in time to see the youngest Archangel jump forward again, held in place though by the fingers curled around his bicep tightly, harming another's wings is a grave offence, often handled by the Commander, and no one was immune to the repercussions, including the Archangels.

Azrael tries to come to his own defense, stuttering slightly, and yelps again at another sharp smack to his rear. "Ow! Stop!"

"Oh, you'd better prepare yourself, this is just a precursor for what is to come." The young Archangel's eyes widen slightly at the implications of that statement. "I didn't do anything wrong! We were just trying to see if we could get your attention, it was his idea!"

"I'm sure he asked you to yank his feathers out of his wings, you sought my attention," Azrael yelps again at another sharp swat. "You gained my attention. You think you are upset, _I_ am _livid_, and you will feel that well in the next coming moments. Be silent." The younger Archangel's mouth snaps shut, though he glares down at the younger angel, he shouldn't have screamed so much. There's nothing that can be done to keep him from glaring. "I cannot regrow feathers, Castiel, I cannot say I'm sorry because I am not. I did, however, heal your wings, a one-time occasion, let's not make a habit of it."

Azrael flinches when he's tugged closer to his older brother's side, he can feel the anger rolling off him, and looks up at him when he calls for his attention. "Let's go."

…

"Go find a switch."

He turns to the older Archangel, his mouth hanging ajar, eyes wide in shock. "What? You can't be ser—"

"_Go_ find a _switch_."

Azrael blinks at the tone, and darts off, doing as he's told without hesitation. He searches quickly, finding a thin branch hanging from a low branch of a tree, he snaps it off, running back to the older Archangel with it. Raphael takes it from him, eyeing it closely, checking it's flexibility, and nods in approval as he passes it back. "Clean it up."

"Do I—"

_"Now."_

The Archangel of Death nods quickly, falling silent, reaching for the small blade in his boot to begin cleaning up the long stick that's going to be used as a switch. Part of him wants to protest it, but his brother is furious, he's livid, he doesn't want to make him anymore angry then he already is. So he clears the switch quickly, tearing off the little lead off twigs, cleaning it of its bark, once it's cleaned and smooth, he holds it back out to his older brother. The Healer takes it again, running his fingers over it, nodding at the slim smoothness.

"This'll do, come," he leads him over to a slim tree, the trunk skinny enough for him to wrap his arms around, and he swallows thickly as he stares at it. "Trousers down." He turns to look at him with wide eyes, the Healer nods firmly. "Down. _Now_." He fumbles for the belt around his waist, undoing the buckles and tugging his trousers down, flushing in embarrassment as he spots the two Gardeners leave them in their solitude, not wanting to interceded on this private moment, he looks back up to his guardian, Raphael nods towards the tree. "Stand against the tree."

"Are you—"

"_Now, _Azrael."

He inhales deeply, turning to the tree, hugging his arms around the trunk, he knows what's about to happen. There's only one reason that he'd have asked him to make him a switch.

"Now, Azrael, tell me what happens when we _torture _people."

He hears the switch pull back in the air, tenses as he waits for it, and howls when it lands, painting a thin red stripe over his pale bottom.


	138. Attack Of The Tickle Beast

"Now, where did we leave off, after so rudely being interrupted," Sablo shakes his head, already smiling that wide smile, eyes wide as he stares up at the Power that takes enjoyment in torturing him. "Oh, I remember, berries, we were having some berries."

He takes a deep breath, puffing his cheeks up once more, and Sablo shrieks at what's about to come, shaking his head, bracing his hands against the Power's head, trying to hold him off as much as he can. "No! No, no, no! No berries! Not those! Stay away!" He sucks in his belly, hard to do with the giggles collecting there, as it shakes as the giggles start to break free. He shrieks, jumping lightly when the Power overwhelms his attempts to keep him away from his belly, his head slowly lowers, and his giggling picks up in quantity. "No! NO! Not those! Not those! Stay away! Stay away! Not berries! No berries!"

The Power wiggles his fingers into the sides of his belly and his hands shoot down to them, leaving him open to surge down and bury his face into his belly, over his belly button, Sablo shrieks as he sits there, tensing in anticipation, he knows what's about to come, he knows how bad its going to be, berries are the worst. He blows softly against his belly button and he squeals softly. "Ahababaahahahabahaa!" Then he pauses, the laughter dying into rapid giggles, a small precursor for what's about to come, and then he lets the berry go, full force, a vicious raspberry against his belly button, and this time he squeals loudly. "IEIEIEEHAHAHAHAHEHHAHAHAA!" Pushing as much as he can against the medic's head, trying as hard as he might to push him off, especially when he takes another big breath, berries over his belly button are the worst, they tickle like nothing else. "NOOOEIIIEEIEEEEIEIEIEIEIAHAHAHAHA! NOT THE BUTTON! NOT THERE! PLEHEHEHEAHAHAHAEASE!"

"Oh, this cute little button is going to get a few berries, it's so cute, I can't not give it berries." Puri takes another big breath and presses his lips over his belly button, blowing out slowly, it drives the young Elect crazy. He drills his heels into the bed under them, shaking his head frantically, pushing against the Power's head before he can really give him the berry. "Aahahahaha no! NO! Not the button! NOT THE BUTTON! Get away from there! Get away! Aahahahabaahahahaha! Get away! No! NO! Not there! ANYWHERE BUT THERE!" Then he blows harder, blowing the vicious berry in, and he squeals, curling his fingers in the Power's hair, still pushing at his head desperately. "IIEIEEIEIEIEHEHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA! PLEASE! PLEHEHEHAHAHAHAEASE!"

"This is my little giggle button, on my little belly, I'm going to give it as many berries as I want." He looks up to the little Elect, giggling down at him, fingers still buried in his hair. "I'm going to tickle torture you until your just a pile of goo, and then we'll cuddle up together and take a nap, because I know you'll be sleepy. But first, first you get the tickly torture, the most tickly torture you've ever had. Nis is away on a mission, so it's just you and me, and all the tickles and berries I can give to this little belly right here." He looks back down at his belly. "Don't worry, I'll give you little breaks, I'm not a cruel tickle monster." Chuckling lightly, he pokes a finger into his little giggle button, the little Elect laughs brightly, squirming side to side as the finger wiggles in his belly button, also known as his giggle button. "Let's give this little giggle button a few more berries." He pulls his finger back and takes another deep breath.

Sablo curls his fingers in his hair even more, laughing like crazy, shaking his head frantically. "Not there! NOT THERE! NO! No, no, no! Not the button, not there, please!" His head slowly starts to lower and he shrieks, desperately trying to push the head away, drilling his heels in the bed under him in anticipation. "PLEASE! Please! Puri! Mercy! Not there! It tickles! It tickles so bad! Please!" He hovers over his belly button, blowing his mouthful of air out over the belly button, it's not a berry, he's just blowing some air over his belly button, but he still squeals, kicking his feet against the bed, arching his back. Fingers curls around his sides, keeping him from squirming too much, and he takes another deep breath as he rushes down, burying his face into his belly, right over his belly button, and blows a monstrous berry over it. "EIEIHAHAHAHAHEHEHAHA! NOT THEEHEHEHAHAHAERE! P—PLEHEHEHAHHAHAHHEASE!" He takes another breath and blows another berry, without pulling away, and the young angel squeals again, shaking his head from side to side, pushing with all his might against his head. "HAHAHEHEHEEIEIEIEIEHAIIIAHAHA!" The Power tilts his head slightly, rubbing his nose over the Elect's belly button, and he shrieks with laughter, sucking in his belly as best as he can, and the Power chuckles at it. "Let's make this interesting, every time you suck in your belly, you get a berry over your giggle button." He peers up at him over his belly at him. "Do you need me to show you what will happen?"

"No! No! I understand! I get it! You don't need to show me!"

"I feel like I should."

"No! NO! GET AWAY! NOHOHO! EEIAIIAHAHAHAHEHEHAHAHA!"

"Do I need to show you again?"

Sablo shakes his head frantically, breathing feverishly, his chest heaving for a breath, and thus comes his first break. Puriel rests against his elbows, smiling down at him, reaching forward to brush his curls back gently. "Look at you, you're just a mess." Despite his precarious predicament, he leans into the gently stroking of fingers running through his curls, sighing softly in content, he likes having his curls played with, it's soothing. "You're adorable. One of the cutest little Elects we've ever had, and we've had a few, unfortunately most didn't make the cut, but I have faith that you will. Nis and Michael are talking dates for the ceremony, there are things that need to be worked around, but congratulations, you've made it in. You'll go from a baby Elect to a baby Power, it'll change nothing, we'll still give you just as many tickles as you get now." He strokes his curls back still, the little angel leaning into his fingers, scratching lightly at his scalp. "Tus was a cute little Elect too, he's too quiet though, you should have heard him when me and Nis got our claws into him. We still do sometimes, he's just so busy now, it's a time that's hard to come by these days. Now we sit back and watch him as he dishes out the tortures we taught him to his little guards." He tilts his head slightly. "Have you met Tus yet?"

"No," Sablo shakes his head softly. "Is he nice?"

"He's a sweetie. I've never known him to _not _like one of our little Elects. I know he'll love you, it must be impossible to not love you," he rubs his thumb over his cheek. "You're just so cute. You're like a fledgling, you still have that little roll of baby fat, those dimples, they'll never go away, and your bouncing dark curls, you're like a little fledgling still and we're tickle monsters when it comes to fledglings. Ask Aba, she'll tell you all about it, and I have no doubt that the little sneak will teach you to escape too."

He still strokes his thumb over his cheek, and it's a comforting feeling, he leans into the touch, though his belly still tingles softly because he knows it's not over yet, he knows its still coming, after this small break is over, his belly is going to be tickle tortured again. "You know I love you, right, I know about your other brothers. We all see the looks they send your way when were together on the Training Field, we try to block them from you, but we know you see them. All they'll ever be is foot soldiers, but you, you're going to be a _Power_." The medic leans forward to kiss his cheek softly. "You have a new family now, we're your family, Nis has practically taken you as another one of his little charges, unofficially of course, he can't actually take you as a charge because you're too old now, but he would if he could, he's _that_ fond of you. We're all fond of you, even the ones you don't know yet, but not quite as much as Nis is, he _adores_ you. Abe might have picked you, but your _Nis's_ Elect, we all know that." He pulls back down, resting on his right elbow, as he strokes a finger down the bridge of the small angel's nose, poking the tip lightly when he gets there. "So, you need to now that we love you, dearly, you're our little angel, our little Elect and soon to be our little Power. You didn't get to have the fledglinghood you should have, ignored and neglected by your guardian, overshadowed by your brothers, they'd eat their ways if they saw you now. We would never do that to you, even if we weren't as fond of you as we are, no one deserves that treatment, well, almost no one, I can think of a few who deserve isolation. Soon enough, you'll have a squadron of your own, after a while, there are still things you have to learn, but you'll lead a squadron of your own after you learn all there is to learn, who knows, maybe we'll even place your older brothers in yours, you can order them about like they had you when you were younger."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Puri," he looks down softly, and the Power lifts his head with a finger under his chin. "They'd never listen to me."

"And, we'd just whip them into shape. Don't let them make you think so lowly of yourself, you deserve to be noticed, you deserve the position you were chosen for. You're going to make a wonderful Power, and we don't say that about just anyone, and we can't wait to see what you become, because it's going to be something to witness."

"I really like it here," Sablo gives him a small smile. "You're all so nice to me. You always have time for me when I need you. You don't pretend I don't exist."

"And, we never will. You exist here. We know you're here. We'll always have time for you. Even the others, once you meet them, will be the same way. Who knows, you may meet one of them sooner rather then later, I'm sorry its taken so long, we're just very busy angels, so the time we do get to spend with those we love is time that we cherish."

"I know you guys are busy, I like to watch you guys going about your duties," he blushes lightly at his admission, but the medic only smiles. "So it makes me feel special that despite all that you have to do in a day, that if I say that I need help or that I need you, you always make time for me."

"You _are _special, Sablo, don't ever think you aren't." He pokes his nose lightly, pulling his arm back, crossing his hands over his lower belly, he rests his chin over top of his hands. "Now, back to our tummy torture session, that's been enough of a break. Remember, you suck in your belly, you get a giggle button berry." He smiles at him, that smile means he's going to be squealing soon, and he giggles anticipatory giggles at the sight of it. "Do you need me to remind you about the giggle button berries?"

Sablo shakes his head quickly, giggling frantically, shrieking when his head dips towards his belly. "No! No! I know! I know about the button berries! No! No! Get away! Get away!" The Power smirks up at him. "I think I need to show you." Sablo shrieks when his head dips again, trying to wiggle to the side away from him, but a finger wiggles in his side and he hops back into prime position. "NO! No! Stay away! Leave it alone! NO!" His fingers curl back in the Powers hair when he takes a deep breath, making a show of it, puffing his cheeks back up, looking down at his belly as he slowly lowers his head. Sablo shrieks when he dips down suddenly, sucking his belly in desperately, the medic chuckles softly. "Now, that's two button berries." He retakes his breath, not inhibited by the fingers curled in his hair or the hands pushing at his head. "NO! NO! No, no, no! GET AWAAAIEIIEEIIEIAIAAAAAAHAHAHAHA!" The young angel squeals brightly when he finally presses his face to his belly and blows his vicious berry over his belly button, bright laughter filling the empty space around them in the medic's room, he calls out for someone to save him, calling for help, but the door remains closed. "EEEEEEAAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!" He arches his back into it when another berry is blow in his button, sending vibrating tingles over his belly, as he cackles loudly and brightly, pushing against his head as hard as he can.

He looks back up at him. "Do you need me to show you again?"

"No! NO! I get it! I UNDERSTAND! NO! NO MORE! EEEEIEIIAHAHAHAHAHA! STOOAHAHAHAOHOHOHOP! NO MORE! NO MORE BUTTON BERRIES!"

"No more, I like the button berries," he presses a kiss over his giggle button and the young angel shrieks and jolts. "They get the best reaction. Anything with your giggle button gets the best reaction, that's why I call it your giggle button." He circles his finger around his belly button, slowly, the soft touches send tingles through him. "But, okay, I'll leave the button berries for now, we'll come back to them, I love them too much not to. There's other ways for me to torture you, I'm very skilled at what I do, I was taught by the best, your tummy is still going to get a tickly tickle torture." He dips his finger into his belly button and wiggles it around, Sablo shrieks and squeals, bucking his hips and arching his back, drilling his heels in the bed he lays trapped on. "I can always just push my giggle button instead. Push and Push and Push. On and off, again and again and again." He stops his wiggling finger and the younger angel's boisterous laughter dies down into boisterous giggles. "Off." He waits a moment, building up the anticipatory giggles in his belly, and then he wiggles his finger again and the little angel shrieks again, giggles picking up into boisterous laughter again. "On." Sablo squirms hard, side to side, arching his back, as he tries to get the finger out of his belly button, cackling all the while, but the finger stays, wiggling in deeply and viciously, driving the young angel crazy. "Oh, I love my giggle button."

He moves down his belly, wiggling his forefingers into his lower belly, and the young angel shrieks at the sudden change, squirming again, reaching down with his hands to try and block his access to his belly, it doesn't work, it just gains him more fingers, and he shrieks again, arching his back at the tickly sensation, those fingers spread to the sides of his belly, wiggling fast and vicious, and he screams with laughter, jumping slightly where he lies. "Did you just try and hide my tickle tickle belly from me?" The young elect shakes his head frantically, throwing his head back with laughter when he claws his fingers into his belly and shakes his hand, pulling his hands back quickly as those cruel fingers attack his belly. It's only against him that his belly is just so ticklish, his entire belly, any spot will drive him crazy, something the medic knows all too well. "You didn't?" Fingers move down to wiggle on either side of his belly button and he shrieks again, arching his back, kicking his legs out before drilling them into the bed under them. "That's good, because then I'd have to punish you."

"I dihihhahahahiiidn't! I prohohoohahahaohaohahaomise! I swehehehehahahahahear!"

"You promise, do you?" Ten fingers wiggle into the left side of his belly, and he leans to the right as much as he can, wishing he could suck in his belly, but he doesn't want another button berry, those are the worst, but when he drills his thumbs into the spots just next to his belly button, he shrieks loudly, "AAAHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHAHAHA!" and sucks his belly in as much as he can. His eyes widen when he realizes what he's done, and the Power smiles down at him, fingers curling around his sides to keep him in place. "That's a button berry right there, you sucked your tummy in, your punishment is one button berry."

"NO! NO! I'M SORRY! I WON'T DO IT AGAHAHAHAAIN! IT WON'T HAHAHAHAAPPEN AAHAHAAGAIAHAHAHAIN!"

"I'm sorry, but you broke the rules, breaking the rules comes with consequences." He leans over his belly. "One button berry coming up."

"NO! NONONO! NOT THAT! NOHOHOHOAHAAHHOT THAHAHAHAHAAT! STAY AWAY! GEHEHAHAHAHEHEHET AWAHAHAHHAY! NOOOEEEIEIEIAHAHAHHAAHAHHAHA!" He squeals brightly as the berry is blown over his belly button, pushing against the Power's head as much as he can, his eyes widening when he hears him take another deep breath. "NO! NO! I ONLY DID IT ONCE! ONOHOHOAAHAHAAONLY OHOHOHAHAHAHAHOAOHAONCE!" He doesn't get a response, a face just presses over his belly button again, and he blows out a sharp vicious berry. Sablo arches his back again and screams with laughter. "EIEIEIHAHAHIAIAHAHAIAHAHAHEHEHAHAHAHA! PLE—PLEASE! ONLY ONCE! I OOHOHAOHOHAHAHAONLY DIHIHDHAHAHAHHID IT OHOHONCEEIEEAHAHAAHONCEEIEIEIEIAIAHAAHAHAHA!" Puri takes another deep breath and he squeals, nothing happens, but he squeals. "IHIHIHIITS NOHOHAHAHAAHOT FAHAHAHIHAHAHAIREEIEIAIAHAHAHAHA!"

He chuckles softly, sitting back up, wiggling his fingers back into his shaking belly, this time he fights the urge to suck in his belly with all he's worth. "Life isn't fair. I can't help it. Button berries are my favorite. I love them so much."

Sitting back again, he rests his hands over his shaking belly, smiling up at him that same smile that means tickles are about to come. "What should I do to you now?" he wiggles his index finger into the skin just under his belly button and he giggles harder. "There's no one here to save you, you're all mine now, to do as I please with. Your tickly tickle torture is far from over, but there's so many choices, I don't know what to pick." He pauses his wiggling finger. "I could give those toes some nibble and kisses, that always drives you mad with laughter, I could give those toes some attention." He giggles harder at the thought of it, curling his toes up tightly, as if he's going to turn around and go after them. "I could give your little neck some nibbles and berries, that drives you crazy as well." He scrunches his shoulders up quickly to protect himself. "I could give those sides a good tickle, some berries, scurrying fingers." The medic wiggles his fingers up his sides, and he shrieks, squirming wildly from side to side. "Or those little armpits, oh those ticklish little armpits, I could give them some wiggling fingers and berries, that drives you nuts as well." He manages to sneak a finger under his clamped arm and wiggles it in, Sablo shrieks, pressing his arm down tighter, only trapping the finger underneath. "I could do all of the above, and you'll just squeal and shriek and scream and laugh and giggle, because you just a ticklish little angel aren't you?" Sablo presses his chin to his chest and nods, shrieking again when the finger begins to wiggle under his arm once more. "But, where to start, it all sounds so exciting, what do you think, where should we go next?"

"I thiihihihiink yohohhhaahhahaou shohhoohohoahahahahahould leheheahahahahet meheheehe gohohohahahahahooahao!"

"Now, I don't think that was one of the options." He wiggles his fingers down his sides quickly, the younger angel shrieks and jolts. "Now, I could start at the top," he wiggles his fingers back up his sides and he jolts again, shrieking brightly, squirming side to side. "Or, I could start at the bottom." He wiggles his fingers back down, and Sablo shrieks and squeaks, twisting like a worm on a hook. "But I'm not leaving any spot untickled, it's all getting some attention, but where to start." He wiggles his fingers back up his sides, Sablo shrieks again, curling his fingers around his wrists as his fingers wiggling over his higher ribs. "I think I'll start at the top." He pulls his fingers away and stretches out over top of the little Elect. He shakes his head and scrunches his shoulders up tightly, blocking the access to his neck, he'll fight back as much as he can in this precarious position. A warm chuckle rumbles next to his ear. "Let me in, little guy, it's going to happen." Sablo shakes his head again, between his shoulders, giggling breathy giggles, he's not moving his shoulders for the life of him. "Open up, I'm coming in one way or another, make this easier on yourself." He shakes his head again, looking to the side with his bright bubbly eyes, staring at the torturous Power silently, save for his giggling. He shrieks when a finger worms it's way under his arm and wiggles in, throwing his arms back down to protect that spot, he opens his neck up, by the time he realizes his mistake, there's a face burrowing into his neck. The light stubble on the medic's face rubs tickly against his neck, he shrieks when teeth nibble at the side of his neck, shaking his head, tilting his head over to the side as much as he can, shrieking again when the Power growls lightly and shakes his head, nibbling at his neck again. "BAAHHAHAHEHEHEHAHAHAHA! STOP! STOOHHAHAHAHAOP! IT TIHIHIHAHAHAHICKLES! IT TICKLES!"

"I know it does, you little giggle monster, I'm going to give this neck some good nibbles and berries."

"NO! Nononono! NOOAHAHAHAHOAOAOHAHA! NO! NOHOHAOAOAHSSHSHHSSH! NO NIHIHIIAHHAHAHIAIBBLES! NOHOOAHAHAHO BEHEHEAHAHAHEERRIES!" He shrieks and squeals when he nibbles his neck playfully, rubbing the stubble on his chin into his ticklish little neck, and then he takes a deep breath and blows his first berry. Sablo screams, it echoes in his ear slightly, scrunching his shoulder up as much as he can with someone buried in his neck. "EIEIIAHAHAHAHAHEEEIAIAIAHAHHAHAHA!" He tilts his head away from him as much as he can, arching to the side, and jumps back around when fingers reach down to wiggle into his sides. "Come back here you, I'm not quite done yet." He jumps back into place and another berry is blown against the side of his neck. "NOOOEEEIEIEHIHAIHAHAHAHAA! NONO! NOT AGAIN!" He takes another deep breath. "NOHOAHHAHAHAHAHAHAEEIIAIAHAHAHA!" He pulls away and the shoulders immediately scrunch back up again, protecting his neck again, and he giggles wildly at the remaining tingles running over the side of his neck. "We have to get the other side too," he leans over to the other side, to the left and curls his fingers around the shoulder scrunched up there. "Open up, you ticklish little angel, you." Sablo shakes his head frantically, scrunching up tighter, not even the finger wiggling under his arm gets him to unscrunch his shoulders, and it takes all his will power not to throw his arm down like he wants to when that fingers does begin wiggling under his arm again. "You open up, you, or I'm going to pull this shoulder down and give you as many neck berries that I can."

Against his better judgment, he can't handle berries anywhere, and the stubbly face immediately burrows into his neck. He shrieks when he nibbles again, rubbing his stubbly chin over his tickly neck, and takes a deep foreboding breath. "NO! NOT AGAIN! GET OUT, GET OUT! NO BERRIES! NOOOOEEEEIEIEIEIAIAHAHAHAHAH! NOT ANOTHER NOT ANOTHEEEEIAIIAAHAHAHAHAHA! I OPENED UP! I OHOOHAHAHAHOPEEEEIIEEIAHAHAHAHAH! I OPENED UP! NOOOOEEEIEIIAHAHAHAHAAH! AAAHAHAAHAHAHIEIEIEIEEEAHAHAHAA! NO MORE BERRIES! NOHOHOOEIEEEIEIEIAHAHAHAHAHA MORE BERRIES! EEIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHAA PLEEEIEIEIEIEHEHAHAHAHAESE!" "I decided to give this side all the berries." "EEIEIEIAHAHAHAHAHA! MERCIIEIEEEHEAHAHAHAA! TIIEEHEHEHAHAHHEICKLES! SOHEHAHAHEHAHAAOO BAAHAHAIIEEEIEIEHEHEHAHAHAD!"

He's breathless when he finally pulls away, and immediately scrunches his arms back up, just in case of sneak attacks. Puriel smiles down at him, leaning down to brush his nose against the young Elects, his face scrunches up as he does. "I'll give you a short break before we move down. Perhaps that was a bit mean, but I couldn't help myself." His chest heaves for a breath, his neck tingling still, breathless giggles still spill out softly after such a mean attack. Nis is a tickle monster, but Puri was a tickle beast, he was always trying to tickle torture him, normally Nis would save him, but he was away, he was stuck with the medic's nonexistent mercy. "I told you I was going to give you the most tickly tickle torture of your life." A fingers wiggles softly against his ribs and he giggles harder, arching to the side away from the finger, it continues to wiggle but it doesn't follow, he doesn't arch back until a second finger wiggles in on the other side. Once he's sure the little Elect isn't going to die from laughter just yet, he begins anew, reaching to curl the fingers of his left hand around his right wrist, slowly pulling his arm up. "Okay, moving down, time for some armpit tickles." Sablo shakes his head, giggles picking up again, tugging desperately at his captured arm "I'm going to give these little armpits the most tickly tickle torture they've ever had, lots of wiggles and pokes and berries, it's going to drive you crazy from all the tickly tickles."

Sablo wishes he still had his tunic on, it had been wrestled off when he'd been thrown down on the bed for his day of torturous torture, he can't bare berries on his bare armpits, out of all the berries, other then button berries, those are the worst berries, bare armpit berries. Despite his struggle against it, his arm is lifted above his head and trapped there, fingers curled securely, not too tightly, but securely, around his wrist, trapping his arm above his head and opening his underarm for as many tickles as the medic wants to give it. He shrieks and jumps when a finger pokes at his armpit, poking all over, leaving no spot unpoked. The Power settles over top of him, his shoulder rubbing against his chin, looking down at his new tickle spot as he pokes around the ticklish little armpit, basking in the joyous shrieks and giggles echoing around them. "Ahehehehehahahahah! NO! Let go! Lehehehehet gohoho!"

"I don't think so, I _told _you I was going to give this little armpit a tickly tickle torture, and I don't say things that I don't mean." He stops his poking, settling his finger in the middle of the hollow of the underarm, and rests it there. "Are you ready for the tickles, little guy?" Sablo shakes his head, his chin pressing to the Power's shoulder as he tries to turn his head over there, but he can't see, and that's the worst, he can't see what kind of torture he's going to get and that means he can't prepare for it, it's going to be so bad. Puri is already in a right torturous mood today, as he's been taking out on the poor little Elect, but now he can't see, that's just unfair and the worst. The finger wiggles in deeply, and he shrieks, laughter bubbling up from his belly and filling in the space the giggles had been filling just moments before. "Aahahahahahehehehehahahaha! NO! Ahehehahahahahehehaha! Get it out! GET IT OUT!" The only thing that happens is another finger joining the first. "AHEHEHEHAHAHAHA! Bahahehehahahheahhaha! Not there! Nohoohahahahaot thehehehehahahhaaeheere!" The fingers spread slightly and he jolts, tugging at his arm again, pressing his cheek against the Power's shoulder as he tries to turn over again. The second finger disappears and the first circles around his armpit, away from the hollow, up to the edge, and then it slowly circles back down, all the while the younger angel is cracking up, drilling his heels into the bed, his fingers flexing in the grasp around his wrist, when the finger returns to wiggle in his hollow again. "Ahehehehehahahahahahahehehe! Bahahehehehahahaha! Not there! Not theehehehahaheheahaheheere!" The finger pulls away and he sucks in gulps of beloved air, his chest heaving wildly, his belly shaking still from the force of his laughter. And, it's then that he hears the forewarning about what's to come next. "Time for some armpit berries."

And, that's the only warning he gets before there's a deep inhale of breath and his stubbly face is pressing to his armpit, blowing out a vicious berry over the sensitive skin that's normally hidden from view. Sablo screams with laughter, tugging desperately at his arm again, scratching wildly at the fingers curled around his wrist, squealing loudly when another berry is blown into the hollow of his armpit. "EIEIEIIEEEEEAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAA! NO BERRIES! NO AHAAHAHAHARMPIT BEIIEEEHAAHAHAHHEEEHEERRIES!" He only takes another deep breath and shakes his head, blowing out viciously over his ticklish armpit. "EEIEIIEEEEEAHAHAHAHAHHEHEHAHA! IHHIHIEHEHEHEIIIT TIHIHIHIHEHEEHHICKLES SOHOHOH BABAHAHAHAHEHEHEHAHAEEEEIIEAAHAHAHAHA! EIEIEIAHAHAHAHA STOOHOHOHOAAHAHAHOP! NOHOHOSAOOAOAHO MOHOHORORE! PLEEIAIAIEEAAAHAHAHAHHAAHAEASE!" He breaths feverishly, his chest heaving, when he finally pulls away, the tingles driving the giggles that continue to pour from his heaving belly. Puriel smiles down at him, he knows that smile, he knows it well, as he switches to the other side, letting him take a moment to catch his breath. "We can't forget the other side. Since I was kind of mean over there, I won't give this one any berries, maybe, I haven't really decided yet, after all, these little armpits deserve all the berries they can get." Sablo's giggles pick up when he feels the single finger circle gently around his armpit, starting at the edge and working it's way down slowly, twirling around and around, it drives him nuts, because he knows what's about to happen when it gets to where it's going. "Ahahahaheheheheahahaha!" The finger gets to it's destination, wiggling furiously into the hollow of his armpit, the giggles pick up into laughter, and he turns, pressing his cheek to the Power's other shoulder. "Ehehhahahahaheehahahaa! Get it out! Nohohooaoaoaoaot thereehehehaahahaere! Get it out! Geehehahahehahet ihihiit ohhohohoaohahahahout!" Another finger joins it, then another, until five fingers are fluttering over his exposed armpit, and he shrieks at the sensation, kicking his feet wildly, tugging at the Power's tunic with his free hand, trying to pull him away. "Ahehehehahahahahaiiiieeeaaaaa! Tihihshshahahahahickles! IT TICKLES!"

"Does it?" His fingers pull away for a moment. "Does this tickle too?" he buries his face into his armpit, pressing little kisses over the hollow, taking a deep breath and blowing a big berry over the sensitive spot. Sablo shakes his head, pressing close against the Power's shoulder, kicking his feet again when he blows another berry. "EIEIEIEIHEEEEHAHAHAHHAHA! AAHAHAHEHEHEHAHAHA! YOU SAID NO BERRIES! YOHOHOHAHAHAHOU SAHAHAHIHIHIHIHIAID NOHOHOAHAHAHOO BERRIEEEEEEHAHAHAHAHAHEEIES!" "I lied." "AHAHAHHIEIEEIEEEEIAIAAHAHAHAHA! NO MORE! NOHOHEIEIEIEEEHHAHAHAA! YOHOHOOOOOOU SAIAHAHAHAIAIAIAIEHEHEHHAID NOHOHOOIIEEEEIAIHAHAHAHA BERRIES!" "I just told you I lied, I'm not going to pass up giving these tickly little armpits berries." "HABABAHAHEHEHEHEIEEIEAAHAHAHA! NOHOHOEEEEIAIAIAHAHAHAHA! NO BERRIES! NOHOHOSHEIEIEIEIHSHSHAHAHAHAA BEEHEHEHAHAHAHAHERRIES!"

He pulls away from the armpit, and he thinks he's done, but five fluttering fingers reappear again and he shrieks, arching his back, as best as he can with the Power laying over him, tugging on his arm, trying to roll over onto his side to get away, but he can't move, and he just throws his head back in laughter, cackling like a mad man. "Bahaheheheahhahaha nohohoooeohahahah fihihingers! Nohohosshahahahoho fluahahaheehehehheahahutters!" "No berries, no flutters, what about this?" "Ahahahehehehehahaha nohohohahahahaohoho! Thaahahahhthahahhahats wohohohoahahahahhworse! GET IT OUT! Geeheheheheahahahhaaet ihihihit ohohhahahahahout!" The wiggling fingers halts for a moment but doesn't move from where it sits. "Nah." The moment it starts wiggling again the young angel screams. "AHAhahahahahhieeiieiehahahhahaha! Nohohohoahhahaooho nooahahahahahooo! Nohohaohahahaohot theheheheahahahahaheheheheere! Thaahahahahat tihihishehehehahahahaickles!" "It tickles? Do these flutters tickle too?" Five fingers flutter over his armpit again and he squeals, nodding desperately, even though the Power isn't looking to see if he does. "YEHEHEHEAHAHAHAHHEEESSSSS! TIHIHIAHAHAHAHAHICKLES! TIHIHHHHEEEHAHAHAHAHICKLES! NOOHOHOAHAHAHAOHHAHOA MOROHAHAHAHAHOHEHOEHORE FLUHUAHAHAHAUTTERS! NOHOHAHAHAHA MORE!" "That tickles too. What about these berries, do these tickles too?" "NO! NO BERRIES! NOHOHOAHAHAHAHEIEEIEIEEEAHAHAHAHAHA! YEHEHEEIEIAIAAHAHAHAHAES IHIHAHIAHEHEHEHAHAHIT TIIHIHIAHEHEHAHAHAHAHICKLES!" "Good, have a few more." "NO! NOHOHOAHAHOAHAO! EEEIEIIHAAHAHAHAHHAA! EIEIEIAHAHAHAHAHAH! HAHAHAHEEEIIAHEHEHAHAA! STOOHOHAHAHEIEIEIAIHAHAHAHAHEOP! NOHOHOAHAHHEIEIEEIHAHAAHA MOHOHAHAHAHAOHORE!"

"Okay, no more berries," He lets go of the wrist he holds captive and digs under both of his armpits, laughing as he squeals, "EIIEIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHEHEHAHAHAHA!, and arches his back. "How about some digs, I know how much you like the digs, I like them too." Sablo shakes his head wildly, his curls bouncing around as he bounces lightly under the Power, it tickles so much. Puri is going to kill him today. He's going to die from tickles. "NOHHOHOHOHAHAHAHOAHOAHOOO! THATTAHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHHEHATS NOHOHOAHAHAOOT WHAHAHAHEHEHEAHAHAHAT IHIHHIHAHAHAHEHEHEEHII MEHEHEAHAHAHAHAHAENT! GEHEHEAHAHAHHAEET OHOHAOHAHAHAOUT! GEHEHEAHAHAEHEHET THEHEHEAHAHAHEHEM OHOHOHAHAHAHEHEHEHAHAHAHOUT!"

Puriel pulls away completely, resting back on his elbows, watching as he laughed like crazy still, his chest heaving, the laughter dying down into hysterical giggles, as he wraps his arms around his chest tightly, protecting his armpits from any sneak attacks, because Puri is known for sneak attacks. But he just lays there, watching him catch his breath, and smiles when their eyes meet. "I forgot how ticklish your little armpits are."

"You're going to kill me!"

"I am not. I'm giving you breaks. I'm being nice."

"That was mean! You were being mean!"

"I was not, I'm being nice, I don't have to give you breaks. Though perhaps I was a bit mean on that armpit there, maybe there was a bit too many berries, I could feel you kicking like a mad man." He rubs at his ear lightly. "You were squealing like a fledgling in my ear."

"You deserved it!"

"Oh," he wiggles a single finger in both of his sides, and he giggles brightly, squirming slightly from side to side, but the fingers follow him wherever he goes. "I deserved to have my eardrum ruptured by a fledglinglike squeal?" Sablo nods and swipes at his fingers, he goes undeterred and drills his fingers into the slight chub on his sides, the younger angel shriek and arches his back. "I was going to let you have a longer break then that, but then you said I _deserved _having my eardrum blown out, so now your break is over, lets move down to these sides. These are Nis's favorite place, he loves giving these little sides some tickles, oh I've heard those squeals when he rubs his beard into these spots. Let's see what I can do to them, shall we?" He reaches over to spider ten fingers up his right side, and he shrieks, arching to the left, and the fingers jump over to that side, they repeat the process time and time again, until he's laughing brightly and jumping from side to side, it's amusing to the Power. "You know what, I'm going to show how nice I'm being, I won't give these sides any more berries then they need."

"Nohoho beheheherries!"

"Oh no, I can't say that, they need some berries."

"Nohoho thehehehey dohohon't!"

"But they do, they need some berries, it's not right to not get any berries."

"Pleheheheeease!"

"Oh, alright, since you said please, I'll think about it." He holds his one side steady as he spiders his fingers up and down the other side, it drives the little Elect crazy, his laughter picking up, shrieking at the steady torture. "How about spiders, can I do spiders?" He switches sides and laughs softly when he tries to jump away and finds himself trapped by the arm on his other side. Sablo shakes his head again. "Nohoaaoahahahahahoohhoho! Nohhoahahahoahoahoohooo spihihihisiisiiihihiders!"

"It's spiders or berries, for right now, you get to choose which one comes first, because I'm being nice." He spiders his fingers up both of his sides, and then back down, up again, and back down. Sablo jumps from side to side, squirming like crazy, shaking his head frantically, he won't pick either of those, either Puri will trick him and give him the other option, or he'll actually do what he says he would rather have, so he sticks to shaking his head. "If you don't pick in the next ten seconds, I'm going to pick for you, and my first go to is _always_ berries. I _love_ me some berries, they're my _favorite_ treat."

"Nohohoho beeeheheheheheherries! Nohoohohahahaohaoo!"

"Then you have to choose."

"Spihihiihahahahaiahahapiders! SPIDERS!"

"Spiders it is." He spiders ten fingers up his left side, then jumps to his right, back to his left, and on to the right. The little Elect shrieks with every trail of spiders shooting up his sides, rocking from side to side as he tries to evade those spiders tickling up his sides. "These are tickly spiders, aren't they?" He rocks up onto his right side, leaving the left open for all the spiders, fingers curl around his ribs to keep him from falling back over, and the free fingers spider up and down his sides again and again, and he shrieks with laughter, kicking his legs, falling limply against the arm keeping him up on his side, trying to bring enough weight against it to let him down. But Puri's a Power, he's strong, the lightweight of a young Elect resting against his arm isn't going to cause it to give out. "They love tickling little angels, and you're a little angel, they love tickling you." The fingers spider back down his side again, and spider down over his lower belly, as he moves his arm, letting the little angel roll back over again, he cackles as he spiders his fingers around his belly.

"Ahahaahahahahahehehehahahaha nohohoosohahahahhaaot thehehehahahahehee beheheheheelly!" he arches his back, pressing his chin to his chest, squirming from side to side, but the fingers are relentless. "Nohohoahahahaheheheahahahahahohoho!"

"Don't worry, we'll come back to this belly later, the spiders are just working their way over to your other side."

"Nohohoho mohohoaohahahahahoore spihihihiahahahahahiders!"

"No more spiders?" Fingers spider up his right side and he shrieks brightly. "You want some berries instead?"

"Nohohohoahahaohaohaha beheheheeahahahherries! Nohohaohahahahoaoao! Spihihihahahahahiaiahhiders! Spihihahahaiiaiders!"

"You still want some tickly spiders instead of berries?"

Sablo nods frantically, rolling up onto his left side, leaving the right open for tickly spiders. Like the other side, an arm braces him so he can't roll back over and fingers spider rapidly up and down his right side again and again, and he squeals brightly, falling limply against the arm bracing him up again. "Nohohoahahahaohaoo mohohoohoheheheheore spihihihihiehehahahahahiders!" He chuckles softly, letting the young angel fall back over again, spidering his fingers up and down both sides, the little guy squirming side to side like a little worm on a fisher's hook. "No more spiders, does that mean it's time for berries?"

"Nohohohhoahahhahahooo! Nohohhahahaho beheheeheaahahahhaerries!"

"So, does that mean you want more spiders?"

"Nohohohahahahoaahahahaho mohohohahahaoahoahore spihihihieieheheheheahhahahaiders!"

"Okay, then it's time for berries."

"NO! Nohohoho! Noohoho beheheherries! No! NO! NONONO! STAY AWAY! GET AWAY GEEHEHEHEHEET AWAHAHAHEHEHAHEHAHAHAY!"

The Power merely chuckles at his pleads and demands, curling his fingers around the boy's left wrist, pulling his arm away from his side, takes a deep breath, and leans down to press his lips to the young angels bare side. Sablo shrieks, tensing under him in anticipation, giggling harshly as he waits, stewing in it, and then he blows his berry. "EEIIEIEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHAHAHA!" Takes another breath. "AHAHAHAHAEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAAEIEIIAHAHAHAHAHA!" The long berries are the worst, the ones that seem like they'll never end, those are the bad ones. "EEIEIEIEEHEHEHAHHAHAHHEEHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHHAHAAHA!" Now he's really torturing him, he said he wouldn't give more then he thought was needed, so he was giving him big long berries to make up for it. "EIEIEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHHIEHEEHAHAHAHAHAHA!" He takes another deep breath, and he shrieks before the lips can even press to his side, arching away from the Power as far as he can go. "Get back here, you, we're not done with our berries yet." He tugs him back over and presses deeply into his side, blowing on the long vicious berry. "EIEIEIIAIAIHAAHAHAHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAEHEHAHAHA!" "One more." "NO! NO MORE! NOOEHEHHOAHAHOAHO! EIEIEHAHAHAHAHEHEHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHAHAHAHHEHEHHA!"

He pulls away after the last one, the super long one, his side still tingles from it, and let's go of his wrist, though it's not for long, the Power curls his fingers around the other, pulling his right arm away as he takes a deep breath and presses into his right side. "EIEIIEEIIEEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHA!" "More berries for this side now." "NO! NOHOHOAHOHAHAHO MORE! NOHEHEOEHAHAHO BEHEHEHAHHEHEHAHAHERRIES!" "Oh, you're getting berries." "IEIEIEIHEEHEEHHEAAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHHAHAHAHAHA!" Sablo kicks his feet, reaching over with his free hand to try and cover his side from further attacks, but fingers curl around that wrist and pull it back as he blows another long berry. "EEIEIIEIEEEAHAHAHAHAHAHIAIAIIAAHAHAHAHA! NOHOOHSHSHAHAHAHAHO! YOHOHOUUAOAOAOOAHHAHAHAOUR BEHEHEHEING MEEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHENEEIEIEIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHA! IEIEIEEAAHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHAHAHAH! NOHHOAHOAHAHIAIEIEIEEHAHAHAHAHAHAA!" "How dare you say I'm mean, for that, you get extra berries." "NOOOHEHEHAHAHAHEAHAHAHAIEIEIEHEEHAHHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHHAHAHAHAHI'M SOOHOHOHHOHAHAHHAAHAHORRY! AHAHAHAHAIEIEIEAHHAHAHHAHAHHAA! IHIHIIHI TAHAHAHHEHEHEAKE IIHIHIIT BAHAHAHAHAAEIEIEIIAAAHAHAHAHEHEHEHAHHAHA!" "To late, you're getting extra berries, you must be punished now." "EIEIEIEHEHEAHAHAHAHAHAHHAEHEHHHEHEHEHEAHAHAH! IHIHIHIAHAHAHAAAHAI'M SOHOHOOHAHAHAHAHOAOORORRY! EIEIEIEHEEAHEHAHAHAHAEHEHEHEAHAHAHA! IIEIEHEAAHAHAHHAHEHEHEE TAHAHAHEHEEEHEHAHAKE IHIHISIAHHAHAHAHAIIEEIEEIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAIT BAHAHAHHAHAHAEHIEIEIEIHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHAAACK!"

He chuckles as he pulls back, the young elects face is beat red, his chest heaving for a breath, breathless giggles spilling over still from the brutal attack. Puriel looks down at his belly with raised eyebrows. "Technically this belly is next, should we get more button berries?"

"NO! NOT BUTTON BERRIES!"

"We'll save best for last then. Let me get those toes first. They could go with a good nibble."

He turns himself around, still laying over his legs, and reaches for his right foot. Sablo giggles behind him and curls his toes up tightly, he's not getting nibbles, no sir, nibbles are bad, nibbles are the worst torture one could do to his toes, he's not making toe nibbles easy for him. Fingers wiggle into his soul, curled around the edges of his foot, and he shrieks brightly. "You uncurl those toes, they need nibbles, you uncurl them little angel." Sablo shakes his head frantically, though the Power can't see, refusing for anything in the world. Fingers wiggle over his sole again. "Ahaahahahahahehehehahahahaha! NO!" But his toes uncurl involuntarily, when he finds a particular sensitive spot on his foot and focuses on it until his toes fan out, and once they have, he holds his foot steady and—"AIEIEIEIEIAIIAAIAHHAHAHAHAHA!" then come the toe nibbles. "Ahahahahahhehehehahahaa nohohoeheheahaha nihihibiaiaiaihibbles!" He nibbles down the line of toes, focusing on the baby toe, because that's one of the worst. Sablo throws his head back in uproarious laughter, kicking his leg as much as he can, the toes of his other foot curl up at the extreme toe torture. Puri pulls his toes forward and press little kisses underneath them, nibbling at the soft skin underneath, it drives him crazy, he pounds his fists against the bed, kicking his free foot out wildly. "IEIEIHAHAHAHEHEHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOOAHAHAHAOOT THEHEHEHEHE TOHOHOAHOHES! NOHOHAHAHOAHOAOOT THEHEHERE!" "Lots of toe nibbles." "AHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHAHAHAHA! DOHOHOAHAHAHOON'T TIHIHIICKLE MAHAHAHHAAMY TOHOHOEHEHEHSHES! AHAHAHAEEEHEHEHEHAHAHAAHA PLEHEHEHAHAHAHAHEASE!" Puriel turns quickly to the other foot, getting his nibbles in before he can curl his toes up and the young angel shrieks again, laughter picking up just as it was before, shaking his head frantically, kicking his newly freed foot wildly next to him. "PLEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHEASE! NOHOHOAHAHAAHOAHOOT MAHAHHAHAHAHYMY TOHOHOEHEHEHEHEHOES! BAHAHAHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHAEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHA!" "Not your toes?" "Nohohooahahahahooo!"

Puriel chuckles softly as he turns back around, looming over his belly. "Then, we'll come back to where we started, this precious ticklish little belly." He wiggles his fingers over the shaking belly, and Sablo shrieks in anticipation, sucking in his belly as much as he can. Puriel raises his eyebrows. "Did you just suck in your belly?" It's in that moment that Sablo remembers what happens when he sucks in his belly, and his eyes widen, shaking his head as hands brace around him. "NO! NOT THAT! No! STAY AWAY! I'M SORRY! I FORGOT! IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN! IHIHIHIIT WOHOHOHOAOHAHAHAHAON'T HAHAHAHAHAPPEEHEHEEHEHEN AGAIHIHIHIAHAHAHAHAIN!" The Power takes a deep breath, dramatically puffing up his cheeks, lowering himself over his belly. Fingers curl into his hair again, and he pushes against his head with all his might, not the button berries. Not again. "NOHOHOHOAOOAHAHAHAHAHOT AHAHAHAHAA BUHUHHUAHAHAHAHTTON BEHEHEAHAHAHAHEHERRY!"

Lips press against his belly button, and he squeals, bracing himself for it, it's going to tickle. It's going to tickle so bad.

"EIEIEIEIHAIHAHAHEHEHHAHAHAHAHAIIAHAHAHEHEEHHAHAA! NO! NO! NOT ANOTHER! I ONLY DID IT ONCE! OHOHOAHAHAHAOONLY OHOHOOAHAHAONCE! EEIEIEEIEIAIAAHAHAHAHAHEHEHAHAA! NO MORE! NO MORE BUTTON BERRIES! NOHOHOAHAHAHAHO MOHOHORREEHEHEHEHE! EIEIIEIHAHAHAHAEHEHEAHHAHAHA!"

Puriel sits back up, smiling at his misery. "My giggle belly gets as many berries as I want it to, and I say it gets lots of button berries, so it's going to get lots of button berries."

"NO! NO MORE! NO BUTTON BERRIES! THEY TICKLE! THEHEHEHEHEY TIHIHICKLE! NOHOHOHOO!" As the Power looks back down to his abused belly, Sablo sucks it in, he's getting button berries anyway, he's going to avoid them as best as he can. "Oh, now you're getting an extra bad button berry." The medic takes a massive breath and begins lowering himself towards his belly again, Sablo kicks his feet in anticipation, it's going to be so tickly, it's going to tickle so bad, he knows it, it's going to be really, really tickly. Lips press over his belly button and sit there, he laughs anticipatory laughs, arching his back sharply, drilling his heels into the bed, it's going to be a bad one, he knows it is. And then he blows. Its long and hard and sends tickly vibrations all around his belly, and he squeals, he squeals loud and high pitched. "EIEIEIEIAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEAHEAHEHEHEHAAHAHAHAHAHA! BAHAHEHEHEHEAHAHAHAHA! NO! NO! NOT AGAIN! NOHOHOHAHAAHAOOT AGAHAHAIEIEIEHAHAHAHEAHHAHA! NOHOHOEOEIEIEAAHAHAHAHAH! NO MORE! NO MORE BUTTON BERRIES! EIEIEIHEHEAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHEHEHAAHAHAHAHA! NO WAIT—EIEIIEAIHAAHAHAHHAHAHIEIHEAHAHA! MERCIEIIEIEIEAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Mercy?" He sits up slightly, spidering his fingers over the shaking belly, the little angel shrieks and kicks, wiggling from side to side, bucking to try and dislodge those spidering fingers. "I don't know what that is. You get no mercy. You only get button berries."

"NO! NO MORE BUTTON BERRIES! THEY TICKLE! THEY TIHIHIICKLE! NOHOHOHO! STAHAHAHAY AAAHAHWAAHAHHAY! EEIEIEIEIHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA! AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHIEIEIEIAAIHAHAHAHAHA! NO! NO! NOOEEIEIEIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHHAA!"

"And a berry here," he takes a breath and presses his lips against the right side of his belly, blowing a long hard berry into the slightly pudgy skin. "EIEEIIEAHAHAAHAHEHEHAHEAHAHAHAHAHAHEHAHAHA! NOHOHOOHOOO MOHHaHAHAHAHAHORE!" He moves over to the left side, "and a berry here." He takes an equally long breath and blows another vicious berry. "AHAHAHAHHAEEIEIIEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" He moves to the spot under his belly button, "this spot gets a berry too." He takes another deep breath. "EIEIIEIIEHAHAHAHEHAHAHEHEHAHAHHAHA!" He moves to the spot above his belly button. "And this spot gets a berry." He takes another breath. "AHAHAHAHEEIEIEIEIAHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHAHA!"

Puriel sits up slightly, looking him in the watering eyes. "And, the button gets a big bad berry." He takes the biggest breath yet, and lowers himself slowly, taking in the hysterical laughter exploding from their little Elect. "NO! NO MORE! GET AWAY! STAY AWAY! NO BUTTON BERRIES! NOHOHOHO!" His laughter picks up the closer he gets. "NOHOHOHO! GEHEHEHEAHAHAHAHEEHEHET AWAAHAHAHHAHAWAHHAHAHAY! NOHOHOHOO BEHEHEHEAHAHAHAHAHEELLY BEHEHHEERRIES!" Lips press over his belly and sit there, but he squeals anyway, kicking his legs and shaking his head. "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAEHEHEHAHAHAH! Then he blows, and he squeals louder. "EEIEIEIIEAAIHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHAHAHAHAA!"

"Okay, I'm satisfied. You've been tortured enough." The medic rolls off of him, stretching out next to him instead, crossing his ankle comfortably, smiling in amusement at the giggling ball of little angel he's left in his wake. Sablo curls on his side, his chest heaving, wiping tears from his eyes, giggling breathlessly still. He shakes his head, reaching down to stroke his fingers through the dark silky curls, scratching his head softly. "I'm sorry, that was mean, I won't be that mean again."

The little Elect giggles softly. "My belly huhuhurts."

"Come'ere, little guy." He tugs on his curls lightly, and Sablo lifts himself up, crawling languidly over to his side, curling around the older angel. The medic curls his arm around him, pulling him close to his side, rubbing at his back softly. "You just calm down now, take it easy." The young Elect nods lightly, closing his eyes softly, sighing in content at the fingers rubbing at his back soothingly. "That's it, close those eyes, you take a nap now, you're completely spent."

"I can nap here?"

"You sure can."


	139. The Grey Wolf

All he had done was take a stroll, a perfectly nice walk through a perfectly nice forest, enjoying the sound of the wind whistling through the trees, the scent of the pine trees mixed into the green fauna, the soft dirt under his bare feet, the feeling similar to being in his Garden again overwhelming his senses, though he wasn't, he'd chosen to stroll through a forest on Earth this time, to witness his and Joshua's masterpieces, some of Eiael's flowers and blooming vines.

He wasn't expecting to come across anything out of the ordinary, he never has on his trips through the Earthen forests, he breathed in deeply, taking in the scents of the Forest surrounding him, stepping over a large stone stuck precariously in the earth, he came upon a cave. A massive opening, the mouth wide and round, and he stared into the vast darkness that the cave swallowed down its stone throat.

The ground under him rumbled, shaking with the force of a small Earth Quake, and he stumbled slightly, something shifted in the shadows of the deep cave, and he tensed, reaching for the blade in his belt, ready to defend himself against whatever beast awaited him in the cave. A large matted paw stepped out of the cave mouth, another following, bright large silver manacles curled around thick matted ankles, a large snout came next, large white canines shined down at him under the pale moon light, the massive beast growling at him threateningly, the beast continued to advance, and he backed up in turn, until it reached the end of it's chain. The beast knelt forward on it's two front paws, growling menacingly, the beast turning out to be a massive wolf. Bright golden eyes bore down on him, anger shone brightest, distrust was there, and then there was sadness.

Staring up at the massive hound, his mouth hanging slightly ajar, it wasn't often something caught him by surprise. But this, this had managed it, it had caught him by surprise.

Making a show of putting his blade down, he reached a hand upwards, fingers spread. The massive wolf was on edge, prepared to strike at the simplest of movements, an abused animal, skittish and distrusting. Lucky for him, he'd raised a few hounds in his day, he knew how to care for them, even in this state.

The wolf growled at him again, snapping its massive jaw threateningly, but it backed up a step in obvious fright, despite it's tough demeaner. Poor thing wasn't used to kind and gentle gestures.

"It's alright, you're alright," he steps forward again, hand still raised. "I'm not going to hurt you." He gies off what he hopes is a calming aura, changing the atmosphere around them, drowning out the tension with smooth rolling gentleness. The hound's growls fall silent, large golden eyes stare down at him, then to his raised hand, whining softly, it lowers itself to it's belly, leaning forward on it's two front paws, pressing it's cool nose to his outstretched hand, he smiles up at the massive wolf, reaching around with his hand to rub soothingly at his snout. "See, it's alright, I'm not going to hurt you." It huffs softly, crawling forward slightly on its belly, nudging his hand with its massive snout, and he chuckles. "You're not a big bad wolf are you, you're just a big puppy, aren't you?" It whines softly, crawling forward even still, turning its massive head to the side. Smiling softly, he steps forward, reaching up to scratch behind its large ear, if massive hounds could sigh in comfort, this wolf most certainly did, leaning into his hand. "Oh, you like that, huh?" It's yaps softly, turning its massive head, a large warm tongue poking out to lick his hand. "You like ear scratches, do you?" It yaps softly once more, turning its head back around, an indication that it wants more ear scratches, chuckling lightly, he reaches up, scratching behind its ear again. "Just a big puppy, indeed."

He pulls his hand back, smiling at the soft whine the mountain of a wolf lets loose at the stopping of it's beloved ear scratches, he ducks under it's snout, reaching for one of the manacles curled tightly around it's right paw, the wolf growls softly, it rumbles above him, and he reaches up to pet its furry neck softly. "It's alright, pup, let me take a look at the damage." It huffs, laying over its paws, its massive snout brushes against his back lightly as he kneels, pulling the fur around the manacle back, humming in distaste at the raw skin that surrounds it, clearly an indication that it had attempted to chew it's way free. "Oh, you poor thing, this won't do." He presses his hand to the thick manacle, watching as the silver slowly begins to simmer, melting away to reveal the raw skin underneath. "This won't do at all." He turns to the other, pressing a hand to the wolf's neck, and it lifts its head as he silently commands it, allowing him to step over to the other paw, examining the ankle, frowning as he melts the silver manacle wrapped around the left paw.

He ducks out from under the massive wolf's snout and looks back up at it, meeting its eyes once more, familiar golden eyes, there's only one being who had that shade of eyes, and he hasn't seen them in decades. "Your eyes are familiar to me." He wracks his brain for a name, he's heard the rumors of course, everyone has, Michael hadn't believed them, but he'd given them a chance, he wouldn't have put it passed his younger brother to give _'birth' _to such beasts. "If my memory serves me as it usually does, you must be Fenrir, am I right?"

The massive wolf lowers its head again, tongue swiping over the side of his face, and he chuckles, patting its snout lightly. "Yes, yes, it's nice to meet you too, little nephew." The hound scoots forward on its belly, nudging at him with its snout. "I'm one of your uncles, pup, my names Raphael, you can call me Rapha, can you talk, little one?"

The wolf snorts softly, tilting it head slightly. _'Not in the normal sense of talking.'_

"I see, how old are you pup?"

_'15 years young, Uncle Rapha.'_

The Healer reaches up to rub his nephew's snout softly. "You really are just a pup, aren't you?" Fenrir huffs softly, leaning into his hand, nudging it softly. "How long have you been here?"

_'Since I was just a small pup.'_

"And, did your father come for you during all this time?"

The wolf's head turns from side to side, shaking softly in the negative. _'No, I've been alone since my imprisonment. Are you going to leave me, Uncle Rapha? I don't like being alone.'_

"Heaven's no. I'm going to give you a real home, this cave is no place for puppies, big or small, and that's what you are nephew, you'll come back with me." He rubs at his chin lightly. "Though, it's going to be mighty difficult to bring someone your size inside with me."

_'I can help that, Uncle.' _The wolf stands, shimmering a golden shimmer, and its size begins to diminish, its still a big larger than a normal sized wolf, but easier to manage then its monstrous form is. _'I am not very good at magic, but I can do some, Uncle.'_

"Very good, little nephew," the archangel kneels, curling his hands around the young wolf's head, pressing a gentle kiss to its nose. "That was splendid." A normal sized tongue licks his face and he smiles, pressing another kiss to his snout. "We'll teach you how to control that magic."

The wolf yaps happily, it's furry tail wagging excitedly at the praise, poor thing must not have heard it often. He knew his brother was neglectful, but for him to leave his own son imprisoned was unacceptable, if he ever saw him again, he'd be giving him a piece of his mind.

"We'll get you a proper home, with a warm bed and toys, after a good scrubbing of course, your fur is matted with filth, some food in that belly. And then we'll tend to those wounds. After that, we'll get you to bed, you could use a goodnights rest in a proper bed." He brushes his ears back gently. "How does that sound, little nephew?"

_'I have been sleeping in a cave for as long as I can remember. A real bed sounds amazing. But do I have to get a bath?' _The wolf huffs softly. _'I do not like bathes.'_

"No pup does, but I assure you, you will feel better after getting washed up."

_'I trust you Uncle Rapha, I do not like them, but I will take a bath for you.'_

The Healer smiles down at him, scratching a few fingers behind its right ear, the wolf's tongue laws out of the side of its mouth, tilting its head into his fingers. "I thank you for trusting me, dear Nephew, is it alright if I pick you up, I'm afraid flying is the only way to get through the barrier."

_'It is alright Uncle, you may pick me up, if you can manage.'_

"I'm stronger then I look, I assure you."

…

Fenrir shook himself after his bath, the water flying all over, soaking anything in its path, luckily his uncle had enough sense to back away before he did. He huffed happily, he did indeed feel better, just as his uncle had said, being cleaned of the filth matting his fur down. Wagging his tail as a warm fluffy towel is draped over his head, rubbing over his damp fur, drying it as much as it can, leaving it to air dry after. Large warm hands pet his ears back, cradling his head gently, and he's rewarded with another kiss to his snout. Yapping happily, he licks his uncles face, rubbing his head against his chest gently.

_'Thank you, Uncle, I do feel better being cleaned of that filth, my fur is lighter than it was before.'_

"I told you that you would, didn't I?"

_'I apologize for kicking you.' _He whines softly. _'I did not mean to, Uncle.'_

"I know you didn't, it's alright," he reaches a hand down to scratch his fingers over the spot they had found on his underbelly. "There's nothing wrong with being ticklish." The wolf yaps, wiggling away from the fingers scratching at that spot on his belly, jumping back playfully, kneeling slightly as he barks happily. "Oh, are we feeling playful now?" He barks again, bouncing forward, jumping up on his two hind legs, his front paws pressing against his Uncle's shoulders. The Healer laughs softly at his nephews excitement, the poor thing deserved some time to act like a pup after what he'd been through, he reached down to scratch at his belly again, just as playful as the pup was, and if wolfs could laugh, his nephew most certainly would be, barking happily, yapping excitedly, jumping back from him and his scratching fingers.

Chuckling, Raphael holds out his hand, his nephew immediately stepping forward to rub his head against his outstretched hand, huffing happily. "Let's go look over your paws, pup, they must smart, the skin is rubbed raw."

_'It hurts Uncle, you are a Healer, from what little father spoke of you when I was just a young pup, before he disappeared?'_

He nods, the wolf stepping closer, and he kneels for a moment, kissing the side of his snout gently, this poor pup needed to be showered in affection after the ordeal he had lived through. "I am a healer, I am _The _Healer, I will fix you up good as new, little nephew."

_'You will make it feel better Uncle Rapha, I don't like it, it hurts badly. The chains were too tight.' _The hound whines softly, nuzzling against his chest gently, rubbing his head against him. _'I tried to chew them off, but I couldn't.'_

"I assumed so, little pup, I can make you feel better again. No more chains, don't even think about them, you are a free pup from here on."

_'What if Odin comes to gather me, he was the one who locked me there, he will not be happy that I have escaped.'_

He rubs his hand down the back of his furry neck soothingly, the Archangel leaning forward to kiss his snout again. "He'd have to go through me first, and I _assure_ you, he wouldn't stand a chance."

The wolf yelps brightly, licking his cheek softly. _'Thank you, Uncle Rapha, for all of your help.'_

"You deserve someone who cares for you, Fenrir, and I apologize that your father did not, but I will, and your other Uncle will too, once he comes to know you. You have a home here with us. There is no thanks needed, it is the least I can do, but you are most welcome." He stands, gesturing for the wolf to follow, turning from the washing pool towards the entrance, he follows the archangel down the hall towards the Infirmary floor, where he's promised the pain on his ankles will be abated.

Another angel meets them as they walk down the path for an empty bed, and he growls softly, ducking back against his Uncle's legs. Raphael reaches down to pet his head softly, offering reassurance, it works slightly, and the growling stops. The other angel stares down at him with wide eyes, mouth hanging open slightly, unsure as to what the current situation was.

"Sir, is there a new angel hound?"

Raphael hums softly, looking back down to his nephew, golden eyes meeting his. "In a way, Oren, this is my Nephew."

"Your…Nephew?"

"Gabriel's child, if the rumors be true, one of many." His Uncle looks back down to him, gesturing to the other angel standing there. "Fenrir, this is Oren, he is my Captain, I trust him with my life."

_'He is a healer, like you, Uncle?'_

"Yes, he is a healer like me."

Oren blinks in surprise. "He can talk."

The Archangel smiles slightly. "In a way. It's more telepathic then actual speaking. But it works."

Oren nods, smiling softly, kneeling to his level. Fenrir eyes him wearily, ducking back behind his Uncle's legs slightly, pausing at the hand that outstretches towards him. Cautiously, he steps forward, out from behind his Uncle's legs, he's not very used to much kindness, his grandfather had him chained to that cave dwelling and his father had left him there, the weary wolf sniffs the hand. It smells similar to how his Uncle's hand does, and he licks it gently, stepping forward to rub his snout against the outstretched fingers, they hand rubs over the side of his head, scratching softly behind his ear, and the hound sighs contentedly, nuzzling against the fingers scratching at his head.

"It's nice to meet you, little one."

_'It is a pleasure to meet you as well, are you my Uncle too?'_

"I am, though not in the same fashion as Raphael is, but yes, I am your uncle too."

_'It is nice to meet you, uncle.'_

"The same, nephew, welcome home."

He waved to them as he stepped away, to return to his duties, and Fenrir followed his Uncle dutifully down to an empty bed, he sits on a small wheeled chair next to the bed and pats the mattress softly. "Up, you get." The wolf sniffs the edge of the bed softly, and jumps up, turning a few times, and sat down facing his Uncle. "Let's see the damage." He holds one of his hands out for his right paw, and he leans slightly, lifting his paw into the Healer's hand, long gentle fingers curl around it gently, pulling up a bit more to examine. "You poor pup, the skin is completely raw, you said the manacles were too tight?"

_'Yes Uncle, they bit in, it was painful to move too much.'_

"I can imagine, no matter, I can make it better." He turns for a small cart next to him, rummaging through one of the drawers for a brief moment, pulling out a small jar and a swath of bandages. He uncaps the jar softly, and digs two fingers in, scooping out a good mass of the concoction. "This may sting a bit, only for a moment though, I promise." The wolf bobbed his head, watching with bright golden eyes as he pressed the ointment to the raw skin, whining at the sting, watching as the fingers rubbed it in gently, and then as the bandages were wrapped around the cleaned skin, holding up his other paw in exchange when he reaches for it.

He rubs the hounds head when he's finished, smiling down at him. "You did beautifully, little one, absolutely stunning."

_'It stings, Uncle.'_

"I know it does, nephew, the sting will fade in a few moments, have no worry." He stands from the chair at that remark, leaning down to kiss the top of the wolf's head. "Lets return to my home, where we'll get you something to eat, and then to bed."

_'Okay, Uncle, I will follow. Food sounds nice, a bed sounds nice, it was scarce in my cave.'_

"Well, you're never going back to that cave again, you'll have a bed to sleep in from here on, and all the food you'd like." He pats the side of his belly gently. "We'll have to fatten you up a bit, you're nothing but skin and bones, you must be famished."

_'I am very hungry, Uncle, I haven't had a true meal in as long as I can remember.'_

"Well, no more, let's get you a right meal, something to fill you up." He backs up a step and waves with his hand gently. "Follow me, I'll show you to your new home."

Fenrir jumps down from the bed, rubbing up against his kind Uncle's legs, following at his side as he leads him forward. Looking around silently, wanting to take in all the sights there was to see, looking about in awe at the grand city that they had made, he had never seen anything quite like it. Raphael spared him a glance, smiling at his expression, at the expression in his eyes, and leaned over slightly to scratch at the top of his head. The wolf bumps against his leg softly in return to the scratching, looking up at him with curious golden eyes, looking up as he holds the gate open for him. "In here, nephew, your other Uncle will be back by now, undoubtedly just finishing up supper."

_'Other Uncle?'_

"It's alright, Nephew, he'll adore you. He's always had a soft spot for little ones. His name is Michael, he is your oldest Uncle, he'll be glad to have met you."

The wolf nods slightly, stepping closer against his leg as they climb up the short staircase to the porch of the Villa, and steps into the dwelling cautiously when his Uncle holds the door open for him, standing still as he waits for him to step forward, so he may hide behind his legs as he introduces him to his new Uncle.

Michael turns at his entrance, smiling in greeting, just finishing spooning out their portions of stew into two wooden bowls. "Brother, how was yo…Who might this be?" He looks down at the grey wolf hiding behind his brother, golden eyes, familiar golden eyes, peering out from behind the Healer's legs.

Raphael smiles at him, looking down to the weary wolf hiding behind him. "Michael, this is Fenrir."

His mouth drops open a bit, eyes widening, as he is caught by surprise. "The rumors…They're _true_?"

"It appears so," he spies the cauldron of stew behind the older archangel. "He's quite famished, is there enough to spare him a bowl or two?"

Michael blinks out of his surprise, nodding slightly, turning to collect and fill another bowl. "Of course, there's enough for a few bowls."

Fenrir growls softly as he approaches, but he stops a few paces away, setting the bowl down before him. Fenrir eyes him cautiously, but the scent of the stew wafts into his nose and he's drawn to it like a moth to a flame, stepping out from behind the Healer's legs wearily, crawling forward towards the bowl, seeming to be ignoring the fact that his new Uncle is still kneeling behind it. He sniffs the contents, licking at it softly, and purrs gently, digging into his meal. The oldest Archangel smiles in fond amusement, reaching up to scratch behind his ear gently, smiling when the wolf leans into his hand, still devouring his bowl of warm stew. Famished, indeed. "Welcome home, dear little Nephew, we'll take good care of you."

The wolf lifts away from the empty bowl, looking between the two archangels cautiously. _'Home, Uncles, you won't send me back to the cave by morning?'_

Michael hums in concern, sharing a look with the Healer above him, as the wolf watches them wearily. "Of course not, little one, we would never. You'll stay here with us, we'll take good care of you, this is your home now."

_'And you'll keep Odin from taking me?'_

"We would strike him down if he thought to lay a hand on you, you're safe here, nephew, we will protect you." He rubs his hand down the wolfs soft neck, Fenrir preens, rubbing into the hand with his head. "Don't worry yourself so, little wolf, you focus on getting better. Eat to your hearts content, rest when you'd like, play as much as you desire, we'll take care of everything."

Fenrir barks softly, stepping forward to lick the older archangel's cheek gently, Michael chuckles, scratching his ears tenderly. _'Can I have another bowl?'_

Both archangels chuckle warmly, nodding to the young wolf, Michael takes his bowl into hand and turns back for the cauldron of stew, scooping up another nice serving into the wooden bowl. When he turns this time, he passes another bowl over to his brother, the Healer thanks him softly and turns from his Nephews side, assuring the young wolf that he's not going far when he turns to look up at him, Fenrir watches him sit in a chair, at a table, and take a bite of his warm stew, he's soon distracted by his own bowl being placed back in front of him, his tongue hanging over the side of his mouth, barking happily as he digs in again.

A warm hand pats his head gently. "Eat up, Nephew, you can have as many bowls as you'd like." Fingers scratch over the side of his belly, and he lowers himself to the warm floor, lapping up the warm chunky stew happily, his tail wagging softly as he enjoys himself with his warm filling meal. "We've got to get some meat on those bones, you're nothing but skin and bone, we'll fatten you up in no time."

"That's what I said." The Healer chuckles as his brother smiles up at him, turning once more for another bowl, pouring some cool water in it, he sets it down next to the wolf's bowl of stew, before turning once more for his own bowl and joining his brother at the table.

They talk softly between each other as they eat, sparing their nephew glances intermittently, ensuring he's still there and comfortable, smiling as he laps up the cool water after two bowls of a hearty stew, laying on his belly, tail still wagging happily and contentedly.

Raphael stands, to refill his bowl, and kneels beside his nephew as he passes him. "Would you like another bowl, Fenrir?"

The grey wolf looks up at him with bright golden eyes. _'Yes, please, Uncle Rapha.'_

"Of course, dear pup." He takes his bowl in hand as well, standing to scoop up another spoonful of stew for himself, and then another spoonful for the dear wolf laying behind him. He kneels slightly, as he turns back, setting the bowl down before him, smiling as the famished wolf digs in immediately, he sets his own bowl down, turning to refill his bowl of water, setting it down next to his stew bowl again, before taking his seat back and digging into his own bowl. Two helps each, and the two archangels are content, talking between each other softly, turning to look in on their silent nephew, three bowls in and he'd had his fill, bowl licked clean, water lapped up, he lays there, licking his legs softly, tail wagging softly in content, a happy pup if one ever saw one.

"Brother," the Healer turns back to face his older brother, tilting his head as he waits for him to finish his inquiry. "If this be true, what of the others?"

"I don't know, Micha, I stumbled upon him on accident." He peers at the happy wolf over his shoulder. "Perhaps we should just ask."

"Indeed," Michael leans over slightly, kicking a chair out. "Nephew?" The wolf looks up at him. Standing when the archangel nods to the offered chair, hopping up to sit among them silently, looking between the two archangels cautiously. "Nephew, seeing as you…As you…"

_'Exist?'_

"Well, yes, seeing as you exist, does that mean…?"

_'That my brothers and sister do too, yes, we were separated long ago, banished to different places on Earth and imprisoned. All of us, except for my sister, she was contained in the Underworld.'_

Raphael crosses his hands before him, Michael leans on his elbow, both watching him closely. "Your brothers and sister?"

_'Yes, there is me, and Jormungandr, he prefers to be called Jorm, his full name is a mouthful. He is stuck in his serpent form in Earth's oceans. Then, there's Selphnir, Odin uses him as his personal steed, it is so degrading. After him, is our sister, Hel. She is stuck in Niflheim. Then, there is the youngest, Vali and Narfi. We do not know what happened to them.'_

Michael eyes widen, sharing a shocked glance with his younger brother, both staring at the wolf in surprise. "There's quite a few of you." Fenrir nods. "And, your father?" He dreaded to know what his brother had done through all of this, surely, he would not sit aside and watch his own children be imprisoned.

The wolf growled softly, snarling, his canines glinting in the lanterns light. _'Father abandoned us. He left us to suffer in our imprisonment. You have treated me with more kindness in this night then he has in decades. He stayed long enough for us to be able to care for ourselves and left. Vali and Narfi could hardly form proper sentences, and he left us, we raised them both, until we were taken.' _He growls deeper, it rumbles up from his belly, snapping his jaw angrily. _'If I ever see him, I will rip him to shreds.'_

"You will not," the Healer reaches out, tapping his snout softly, it throws the wolf's anger, Fenrir likes the Healer, he's treated him with nothing but kindness. He yaps softly, nipping playfully at his outstretched fingers, one taps him on the nose and the hand withdrawals. "We'll take care of you all now, we'll find your brothers and sister, and give you all a proper home. You just worry about yourself, play, have fun, let us take care of everything now."

_'I trust you Uncle, thank you, for taking me in, and for saying you will do the same for my siblings, you did not have to.'_

"Nonsense," Michael reaches out to scratch behind his ears, and he sighs contentedly, leaning into his fingers. "You're family, and we take care of family here, our home is just as much your home."

…

Raphael is the last one to wake the next morning, the spot where his Nephew had fallen asleep is still warm, indicating that he'd left it shortly before he had woken up. He sighs softly, stretching as he turns to sit on the edge of his bed, setting his feet to rest on the warm stone floor. Pushing himself up, he stands, stretching again, and pulls the blankets back into place.

His door stands slightly ajar, wide enough for a young wolf to creep through, he pulls it open and steps out into the hall, raising an eyebrow at the sound of happy barking, he follows it, stopping briefly to pick himself up a mug of fresh coffee, he follows the barking out of the front door to their Villa, smiling at the sight of his brother and their nephew.

Fenrir is laying on his back, squirming in the soft grass, his older brother is kneeling beside the grey wolf, scratching at his belly playfully, tickling him.

_'Hahahahaha, Uncle, hahahahahaha, that tickles!'_

Michael chuckles beside him, scratching wildly at his belly, avoiding the kicking paws. "It's rather endearing to see this." He scratches a bit harder and the wolf yaps excitedly, reaching out with his other hand to scratch at his belly even more, their nephew barks loudly, wiggling in the grass. "I haven't gotten to play with a little one like this for a long while now."

_'Ahahahahaha, Uncle, hahahahahahaha, please, ahahahahahahha, not my belly, hahahahahaha, that tickles! Ahahahahaha, it tickles!'_

"Oh, alright," he gives one final scratch, he pulls his hand away, the wolf huffs, chest heaving, tongue hanging over the side of his mouth, as he rolls over to lay on his ticklish belly. "Since you said please," the Archangel rubs his head fondly and the hound nudges his hand softly. "But, don't think you'll get away that easy next time."

He chuckles softly, gaining their attention, and lowers his mug of coffee slightly. "What happened here?"

Michael winks at him, smiling down to their nephew, he barks happily, his tail wagging playfully. "Someone thought it would be a wise idea to wake me by _jumping_ on me." He rubs his fingers down the wolf's furry neck. "I couldn't let such a thing go unpunished."

"I see," Raphael hums softly, taking a sip from his mug. "Good job, Nephew."


	140. Big Brother Versus The Tickle Beast

He's in the middle of pulling his tunic off that he's caught off guard.

"I heard you tortured my little Elect while I was away."

He looks up at the sound of his older brother's voice, the last time he had been caught torturing the young Elect by the older Power, he had been threatened, he himself would be on the other end of such tortures if he went after the young Elect again, that's why he had waited until his older brother had gone on his mission before striking his cruel tickle torture, no one was there to stop him and carry out the threat.

He really should have known that the little angel would have told their older brother, they were rather close, Sablo told him nearly everything.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Suddenly he feels very vulnerable in his half naked state, crossing his arms around himself, as his older brother smiles at him in that manner, the manner in which kicks that flight or fight instinct into play. "He's much too sensitive about that, I've tortured a number of Elects, he's not the only one."

"Oh, I know you have, I know a lot about what happens to my little Elects under my charge." He cracks his fingers, stepping away from the door frame, stalking closer, and the younger angel backs up a step, until he backs into the closed doors of his wardrobe. "Let me follow through on my threat. I haven't tortured you in some time, really tortured you, this will be a pleasurable trip down memory lane. For me. Perhaps not for you."

He holds his hands up placatingly towards him. "N—Now, Nis, l—let's talk about this."

"Oh, there will be no talking, the tickle monster needs reminded on who's in charge here. Who the _real _tickle monster is? You'll relearn that lesson."

Puriel chuckles weakly, shaking his head, folding in on himself slightly as his older brother advances with the air only an older brother can possess. "P—Please, Nis, it'll never happen again. I don't need to be retaught. I promise."

"I think you do." His brother reaches his arms up around him, his hands resting back on the door of the wardrobe behind him. "I'm going to reteach you about what happens to those who don't listen to me." He giggles despite himself, when one of those arms curls around his waist and tugs him close against his older brother, trapping him against his chest, he tests his binds, they don't falter. His older brother hums softly, opening the door to his wardrobe gently, and reaches in for something, he hears the clink of a belt buckle before the door closes again with a soft clink. He shuffles around as he turns, trapped against his older brother, he tests his binds once more and still they don't budge. He's turned around towards his bed, his knees hit the edge, and he's shoved over. Yelping, the medic throws his arms out to catch himself, his brother toeing off his boots as he climbs up after him, straightening the belt between his hands.

Puriel eyes the belt wearily as his brother leans closer, his knees straddling his waist, not sure what that's for. "Why…. Why do you have a belt?"

"Because, like you tickle tortured my little Elect's belly, seeing as it's one of his worst spots, I'm going to tickle torture those armpits, seeing as they're _your _worst spot, and you're a smacker, I'm not going to give you the tickle torture of a lifetime being smacked the entire time."

It dawns on him after that. He does smack when being tickled, he always has, his guardian used to restrain his hands above his head, his hands were big enough to trap both of his small ones with a single hand of his own, and then he'd have a good go at his tickle armpits, until he was wheezing and apologizes for whatever mischief he had gotten into.

"What, no!" He tries to evade his brothers reaching hands, but fingers curl around his wrists, his brother leaning over him, he yelps as his chest presses over his face, as he lifts his hands above his head, looping the belt around his wrists, he tightens it and does the buckle, trapping his hands together, meaning he has easier access to those ticklish armpits and doesn't have to worry about being smacked as he shows the younger Power where he sits on the food chain around these parts. He ducks his head between the captured arms, curling his arms around his younger brother's waist, and lifts him slightly off the bed, turning him in the position he wants him to be in. "Let's get into the right position." Puriel grunts and tugs at his hands, trying to pull them free of their confine, but fails to do so.

Nisroc ducks out from under his captive arms, leaning forward to loop them over the bulb on the bedframe, trapping his arms above his head, and leans back down, coming to lay over the younger Power's legs. Puriel looks up to his captive, restrained arms, with wide eyes, and then back down at his older brother, eyes just as wide, not liking that smile he's on the receiving end of. "What was it you told my little Elect, what did he say it was, oh, yes, I remember." He leans forward slightly, his fingers curling slightly against his sides. "I'm about to give you the most tickly tickle torture you've ever had." He giggles anticipatory giggles, squirming slightly, tugging experimentally, a tad desperately, at his restrained arms, but the belt around his wrists is tied securely. "But, where do I start, like my little Elect, there are a few places that can drive you absolutely crazy." He reaches up, wiggling a finger lightly into his left armpit, and he shrieks, tugging at his arms again, pressing his head back against the mattress. "Your armpits, of course, oh, those ticklish little armpits. They're going to get the tickle torture of a lifetime, but is that where I want to start? Right at the best spot?" He reaches back down, drilling a finger into both of his sides, and he shrieks again, giggling harshly, squirming from side to side lightly. "I could have a go at these sides, these are mighty sensitive sides, just a few pinches and pokes will make you shriek." He reaches down a bit more, only slightly away from his sides, and wiggles his fingers into his lower belly, the younger angel shrieks again, bubbly giggles echoing around them in the silent room. "Or this belly, I could have a time with this belly, give it a few pokes and wiggles here and there, maybe a number of berries, that'll really get you going, berries anywhere tear you to pieces." He leans away slightly, reaching down, squeezing the fingers of his right hand into his right thigh, the medic screeches brightly, kicking his leg desperately to get away from those squeezing fingers. "I could squeeze these thighs for a few minutes, that'll drive you nuts too." He smiles at him as he lays back down, his younger brother giggling softly even still, patting his fingers over the mattress on either side of him.

"I don't just want to make you laugh, _baby_ brother, I want to make you _squeal_, I want to make you _scream _with laughter. And, luckily for me, I know all the right buttons to push to get the results I want."

He crawls forward slightly, until his shoulder is pressing lightly against the medic's cheek, the fingers of his right hand resting over his arm lightly, and as he tries to peer over and sees he's blocked from seeing much of anything, he vaguely wonders if this is what their young Elect felt like, the anticipation eating at him, knowing that it was going to be bad, it was going to tickle so horribly, he knows Nisroc means business, he only calls you his _'baby' _sibling when he's about to pull out all his stops and show you just what he's capable of.

It's been some time since he's truly been on the receiving end of his brothers torturous side, but he knows its horrid, he tortures Hani regularly, like he himself tortures Sablo, though young Hani deserves it most of the time, he usually pranks Nisroc at least once every other day, and he's heard Hani's screams echo up the hall to his room when Nisroc really gets his hands on him, pulling out all the stops, torturing him for the worth of torturing.

"Let's start with these ticklish little armpits first, I haven't gotten to really get my fingers in them for some time, I need to familiarize myself with them again."

The medic tenses slightly when a finger presses into the hollow of his armpit, just resting there, the giggles pouring from him despite its lack of movement. He knows it's going to tickle badly, Nisroc is pulling out all the stops, he tortured his favorite little Elect, he's going to get a taste of his own medicine.

The finger wiggles softly and he shrieks softly, giggles turning into soft laughter, as he turns, pressing his cheek against his brothers shoulder, tugging at his captive arms again. The wiggling picks up pace and his laughter picks up in pitch and quantity. "Ahahahahahahahaha! Nohohohot theheheheheere! I'm sohohohoorry!"

"Oh, we're beyond apologies now, now's the time for armpit tickles."

The single finger digs in, wiggling deeply, quick and effective, and it drives the medic absolutely crazy. He shakes his head and drills his heels into the pillows under them, shrieking with laughter as the finger tortures the hollow of his armpit, the weight of his brother over his chest keeps him from twisting up onto his side. "Aahahahahahaha! Bahahahahahaha! Gehehehehet ihihihit ohohohohout! Nohhohoahahahahoot myhyhyhyyhahahayayahy ahahahaharmpihihihits!"

"Oh, your little armpits are in for the torturing of their life, so prepare yourself, we're just getting started." He looks over at his younger brother, his finger still wiggling deeply in the hollow of his armpit, and smiles at the smile that splits his face, the bright shrieky laughter exploding from him. "Is this all it really takes to bring the _mighty Power _down?" He adds a second finger to wiggle in his armpit. "A couple wiggling fingers in your armpits and you're done for? What if our enemy knew about these ticklish little armpits, huh, you'd be a liability, they'd be able to torture you endlessly for whatever they wanted."

"I ahahahahahhaam nohohohhoahahahahahhot ahahahaha lihhihihihiaihahhahahability!"

"Sure, you are, all it took me was two fingers, _two _fingers, and I bet if I told you to do something to get me to stop, you'd do it in a heartbeat, wouldn't you?" When the medic makes no notion to answer his question, he flutters five fingers over the exposed armpit, and the medic shrieks, nodding frantically. "_Wouldn't you_?"

"Yeehehehehehahahahahahahehehes! I wohhohohhahahahahould! Nohohohoho! Nohohoo fluhuhuhahahahahutters! Nihihihihiaiahahahahhahis! I'm sohohhohoahahahahhorry!"

"You're not sorry, not yet, but you will be." He leans in close to his ear, his beard rubbing against it softly, to whisper soft and clear. "I'm going to tickle these armpits, my own little giggle buttons, until it drives you crazy." Puriel laughs harder, squirming in anticipation, shrieking as his brother turns back to face his torture spot, fluttering five fingers around the exposed armpit, driving the medic mad with laughter. He stops his fluttering fingers, pulling them away, forcing him to stew in tense anticipation for what's coming next. A moment of stillness passes, his giggles dying down to soft little bubbles, and then ten fingers flutter over his armpit, all over, no spot left untouched, and he arches his back, screaming in laughter. "Ahahahahahahahahaha! Bahahahahaeahahahaheheheheheahahaha! NO! Nohohohohohoho! Dohohohohhahahahahahoon't tihihihihickle myhhyhyahahahayayahhahy ahahahhaharmpihihihihits! NIS! Nihihiahiahahahahahahiis!"

"Oh, I'm going to tickle these armpits," he stops his fingers, they rest lightly over the smooth underarm. "Within an inch of their lives." And begins his fluttering anew. Puriel squeals brightly, like the young Elect had when he'd fluttered his own fingers over his little armpits, tugging at his captive arms desperately, the belt doesn't give way in the slightly, kicking his feet out as his most ticklish spot is exploited with tickles. "Aahhahahahahhahaehehehehahahahaha! Nohohohooaoaahahahot thahahahhhaaat! Nohohohhohhahahahaot thahahahahahahaaahahahat!"

"No flutters?" Oh, he's going to be teased by his older brother, Nisroc is going to tease him like he's a young little angel, it makes the tickles so much worse being teased. "What about circles?"

The Captain circles a finger around his armpit, starting at the edge and slowly making his way inwards, until his finger wiggles in the hollow of his underarm. He wiggles a bit in that spot, before starting over again, circling his finger around the outside of his armpit, making his way inwards slowly, and then the wiggling finger returns to the hollow.

It drives the medic mad, laughing hysterically, shaking his head, pressing his cheek against his brothers upper arm as he tries to turn away from him. "Ahahahahahhahehehehehahahahaha! Nohohohhohoho! Nohohoahahahahahooot myhyhyhahahahayahy ahahahharmpiihihihihits! Gehehehet ohohhhohahahahaout! Gehehehehet ohhohohohouhuhuhahahahuout! Tihihihihiihihickles! _Tihihihihihickles!_"

"Oh, you think these tickles?" He pulls his fingers away, the fingers of his right-hand curling around his arm lightly, pushing it down slightly, opening the armpit up for him completely. His older brother takes a deep breath, and his eyes widen, tugging desperately at his arms, shaking his head frantically, kicking his feet into the bed, he screams brightly for him to keep away. "NO! No! Not those! Stay away! Stay away from me!" He slowly begins to lower himself towards his exposed armpit and his struggles pick up. "Nis! Big brother! No! Nohohoho!" Normally, he'd be smacking at his brothers head, pushing at him, maybe even trying to get to his ribs, anything to keep him and those from making contact with his extremely tickles armpits, but his hands are trapped, the belt curled snuggly around his wrists, his arms trapped over the bulb at the end of his bedframe, no way for him to fight it off as he slowly lowers himself to his underarm. "Nohohohot thohohohoseshehehehehe! STAY AWAY! GET AWAHAHAHAHAY! Nihihihihis, plehehehehehhahahahahhaease! Nohohohohot thohohohoaose!" He goes ignored, his brother's face pressing to his bare armpit, lips pressing against the hollow softly, and he lays there. It's enough to drive the young medic mad, howling with laughter, shaking from side to side, squirming and wiggling under him. He falls still when his brother nuzzles in, preparing himself for the worst, and squeals when he finally blows his berry into the hollow of his armpit. "BAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHA! NIHIHIHHIHIS! NO! NOHOHOHOT ANOOHOHOHOHOTHEHEHEHER! GET OUT! GEHEHEHET OOHOHOHOUT! EEEIIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAHAAHAHAHAHEIEIEIAIAIHAAHAHAHAHA! NONONONO! HOLD IT! HOHOHOHOLD IHIHIHIT! EEIEIEIIEAIHAHAHAHAHAH! AAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEAHAHAHA!" His older brother chuckles softly, rubbing is bearded chin into his ticklish armpit, and the younger Power shrieks and squeals. "AHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEEHEHE BEHEHEEHAHAHAHAHAHEARD! BAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA! NOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEAHHAHAHAHAEEHEHEHE BEHEHEHEEAHAHAHAHAHARD!"

"Not the beard?" He pulls back slightly. "How about another berry, then?"

"No! Not that, either! No! Nis, no! Nihihihis! Don't! Dohohohon't!" His older brother takes a deep breath, puffing his cheeks up dramatically, and Puriel shakes his head, smacking his cheek against his brother's upper arm frantically. But it does nothing to stop him, as he slowly begins to lower his head, the younger angel kicks out. He knows how bad they are, he always rubs his beard in when he blows berries into you, the beard makes it so much worse. "Get away! Gehehheheet awahahahahhaaway! Nohohoho! Nohohohot thahahahahat! Nohohohot thoohohohose!"

He presses his face into his armpit lightly, burrowing in with his beard, the young medic shrieking at the bristly feeling. His lips press to the hollow of his armpit, and he squeals, before anything even happens. "Aahahahahahehaheheheheahahaha! Nohohohohahahahaohohoo!" He waits a moment, letting him stew in it for a brief time, and then he blows. "AAHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHA! EEEIIAIAIHAAHAHHAHAA! NO! NOHOHOHO! NOHOHOHOT AAHAHAHANANHAHAHAHAHAOTHER! EEEIEIAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAAHSEEHEHEHEHE! NOHOHOHOT AAHAHAHGAIHIHIHIHIAIN! EEIEIAHAHAHAHAHAEHEHEAHAHAHA! AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! WAITWAIT! EEIEIEIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAA! EIEIAIAIHAAHAHAHAHAHA! AAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!" He shakes his head frantically, screaming with laughter, as he takes breath after breath and blows berry after berry into his armpit, kicking his legs and drilling his heels into the mattress under him. "AAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! EIEIEAIAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NIIHIHIHIHIHIHIIS! NOHOHOHO! NOT AHAHAHHAANOOHOHOHOTHER! EEEIEIEAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"I need a breath, but that doesn't mean you get one just yet, you keep on laughing for me."

Five fingers flutter over his armpit again and he shrieks with laughter, pressing his cheek firmly against his brothers' upper arm, squeezing his eyes shut as he cackles. "Aahahahahahahaha! Hahahaahahaaeheheheheahahahahaa! Nohohohoho mohohohore! I'm sohohohohoaooahahahahhahahorry! NO MORE! Hahahahahahahaha! Aaahahahahahahahaha!" He shakes his head, tugging on his arm again, even though he knows it to be futile at this point, he's got his wrists well secured. "Nohohohoho ahahahahahhahaha fluhuhuahuahahahahahuahahutters!"

Nisroc chuckles down at him, he gave his little Elect breaks, he'll let the medic have his breaks, just not quite yet. "No more flutters, huh," he pulls his fingers away. "Then, you get the wiggly finger."

Puriel's eyes widen. "No!" And a finger wiggles in the hollow of his armpit, he shrieks with laughter, wiggling around anew. "Aahahahahahahahaha! Nohohohoot thahahahahhaat! Nohohohot theheheheheehe wihihihiahahahahahiiggly fiihihihihihiaahahahahihihiinger! Geeheheheheheet ihihihihhiihhit oohohhohohahahahahahhohohout! Nohohohot theeheheheheerehehehehe!"

"Okay," he pulls his finger away, moving slightly, smiling down at the medic from above him, his face red from all the laughter and his chest heaving. "You get a small break before we move on to your other little armpit."

"Nis, please," Puriel is breathless. "No more, I'm sorry, it won't happen again. Please stop, please, I'm begging you."

"Did you stop when Sablo asked you to?" Nisroc brushes his hair back gently. "When he said, _'no more'_?" He taps the younger Power's nose lightly. "You did not. Buck up baby brother. Face the consequences of your actions. You tickled my favorite little Elect within an inch of his life, so I'm only returning the favor, because he wouldn't last a moment against you if he tried." He smiles down at him. "Besides, it's been much too long since I've given you a good tickle torture, baby brother, it's time I caught up on lost time. Reminded you of who the true tickle monster is in these here parts."

"I know it's you. I know you're the master. I know it. Please, please let me go. No more. It tickles so much."

"Oh, I know just how ticklish you are," he pokes him in the chest lightly. "Remember when _you _were my little Elect?" He chuckles fondly. "Oh, the good times we had."

"You _tortured_ me."

"You always _deserved _it. You were _worse_ then Hani. I taught you well though, didn't I?"

He hums softly, now that they're settled, he leans over to the other side, the fingers of one hand resting on his arm softly, and Puriel's breath catches in anticipation. "Ok, that's enough of a break, let's take a look at this little armpit." He wiggles a finger into his hollow and the medic shrieks brightly. "Ahahahahahahaha! Nohohohoho!" Nisroc smiles slightly. "Should I do some wiggly fingers?" Puri shrieks again when five fingers flutter over his armpit. "Hahahahahahahaha! Stohohohoohop!" He hums again. "Some flutters?" The younger Power shakes his head frantically, pressing his cheek to his older brother's upper arm firmly. He pulls his fingers back and he breaths frantically, wondering what's coming next. "I think this armpit will get all the berries."

"NO! Not those! Anything but those!" Puriel tugs at his arms again, even though he knows his attempts will be in vain. "Not those! Not there! Nis! No!" He watches as his older brother's cheeks puff up, as he takes a deep breath, and his tugs become more frantic as his head starts to lower. "Nihihihis! Nohohoho! Nohohohot thahahahat! Stahahaahay aahahhawahahahay! Nohohoho!"

He presses his face into the smooth armpit, rubbing his bearded chin into the underarm, the medic cackles, shaking his head frantically, he remembers how bad the beard is, that's something anyone who's felt it remembers, once you've felt it, you never forget the beard, it's his secret weapon.

And then he blows. Puriel squeals loudly, arching his back, pressing his cheek firmly to his older brother's arm as he squeals with laughter. "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHEHEHEHEHAHAHHAHA! NOHOHOHO! NONO! NOHOHOT AHAHHAHAHAGAAHHAAIAN! NOHHOHOHOT AAHAHAHANOOHOHOOHOTHER! EEEIIAIAHAHAHAHAHA! BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA! WAITWAITWAIT! EEIEIIAHAHAHAHAHAHHHAA! NIHIHIHIS! EEIIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAA! AAHAHAAHAHHAHAHA! NONONONONO! EEIEAIAAHAHAHAHAHAH!" He chuckles as he pulls back slightly, letting his brother catch his breath, the medic giggles breathlessly. "And, again." He takes another deep breath and rushes back down. "EEIIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAA! NOHOHOHO! NOHOHOHOT THEEHEHEHREHEHEHE! NOHOHOHOT MYHYHYAHAHAHY AHAHAHHAHARMPIHIHIHIT! AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! EEIEIAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOT AGAIN! WAIT! NIS! EEIEIIEAHAHAHAHAHAHHAH! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOT ANOTHER! NO! EEIEAHAHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHHIM SOHOHOHOHORRY! EEIIEAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! WAITWAITWAIT! NISEEEIEIIEAHAAHAHAHAHAHAH!"

"I think that's enough berries for now, we'll come back here, but that's enough for the moment." Puriel almost sighs a breath of relief, until ten fingers flutter over his armpit, he shrieks, struggling under the older Power, cackling brightly as his brother continues to torture him. "Hahahahahahahaha! Nohohohot thahahahahat!"

"Oh, have these little armpits had enough?" He leans up, resting about him, and flutters his fingers over both armpits, the younger angel shrieks brightly, drilling his heels into the bed under them, nodding his head frantically. "Yehehehhehehes! Nohohhoho Mohohohohore! Plehehehehahahahahease!"

"Are you sure?" He wiggles a finger into his armpits, driving the young medic crazy with laughter, he nods frantically. "Pohohhosiihihihihhitive! I'm suhuhhuhure! Nohohoho moohohohore! Geheheheheet ohohhout!"

His older brother chuckles lightly, pulling his fingers away from his ticklish armpits, letting him use this moment as a break, as he crawls backwards, resting over his legs, hovering over his belly, he pokes his belly lightly, savoring the soft giggles it pulls from the young medic. Puriel looks down at him, giggling lightly, wiggling under the light poking to his belly. "well, if your little armpits have had enough, we can move down to this belly, maybe these sides," he walks two fingers up his right side and he arches away from him drastically, until two fingers walk up his left. "We could do both at the same time, what would you think of that, huh, a few berries to this belly while my fingers skitter up and down your sides.

The younger angel's eyes widen slightly, shaking his head, that would be pure torture, two spots at the same time would kill him, undoubtedly. But then, that's his brothers aim here, he's trying to torture him within an inch of his life, like he had tortured his little Elect. "It would be something a bit like this, just to give you an example." He takes a deep breath and rushes his head down, rubbing his face into his bare belly, his fingers running up and down his sides, and the young Power screams with laughter, shaking his head from side to side frantically, kicking his feet wildly. "NOHOHOHAHAHAHAHOHOAOAOAHAHHA! NOHOHO! NIHIHIS! NOHOHHO! IHIHIHIHI DOHOHOHOHOAAHAHAHAHHOON'T WAHAHAHAHAHANT TOOHOHOH KNOHOHOHOHOW! HAHAHAHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHA!" He chuckles softly, recapturing his breath, and blows out a vicious berry over his belly button, his fingers scratching up and down his sides relentlessly. "EEIIAAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHA! NOHOHOHO! NOHOHOOT MOHOHHOHORE BEEHEHEHHEHERRIES! AHAHAHAHAHAHHAA! HAHAHAHAHAHA! NONO! WAIT! EEEIEIAIAAHAHHAHAHHAHA! IT TICKLES! IHIHIHIHIIT TIHIHIHIHIICKLES! SOHOHOHO BAHAHAHAHHAAD! EIEIHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHAHAHHAHAHSE! NIHIHIHIHIS! AAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! EEIEIEIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" He takes another deep breath. "EIIEIEAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! NO! NOT ANOTHER! EEIEIAIAAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH! AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOHOHOHOHOP!" He drills his heels into the bed, squealing and cackling with laughter, tugging at his captive hands. Jumping from side to side as best as he can with those fingers scribbling up and down his sides wildly. "EIEIEAIHAHAHAHAHHAAHA! NIHIHIHIHIS! IHIHIHIHI'M SOHOHOHOHHOOAHAHAHAHAHOORRY! AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA! MEHEHEEHHEHERCY! EEIEIEHEHEAHAHHAHAHAHAH!"

His older brother sits up suddenly, and he screams when fingers dig into his thighs, kicking his legs and jumping. He shakes his head frantically, screaming with laughter, pulling at his legs as much as he can, kicking as frantically as he can. His laughter rises in pitch when fingers crawl under his thighs, digging into the under thigh, "EEEIIAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! NOHOHOT THEHEHEHREEHEHEHE! NOHOHOHOT THEEHEHEHEHEHRREEHEHEHE!"

"Are you sorry for torturing my little Elect?"

Puriel's dying from laughter, but he still shakes his head, until fingers start fluttering over his armpits again, then he nods, he nods as though his life depends on it. "Yehehehehehehheaaahaahhahahaahaeess! Sohohohohoho sohohohorry!"

"Are you going to go easy on him, now?"

"Yeheheheheheeheeaahahahahahaheeessss!"

"Am I going to have to do this again?"

"Nohohohoaaoahahahahahahohohohoo!"

"I don't know, I may, it's cute when you get like this." He reaches up for his bound wrists, pulling them up over his head, resting them on the back of his neck, as he lifts him up from the bed and flips over, pulling him up to rest on his chest. Puriel breaths feverishly, chest heaving, giggling breathlessly from remaining tingles. With him resting there limply, he reaches behind him and undoes the belt around his wrists, the medic pulls his hands down, clutching at his older brother's tunic loosely. "Okay, you're okay, just calm down."

His younger brother nods slightly, taking a deep breath, and then yawning a big yawn.

"You take a nap, baby brother." He scratches the back of his head softly. "You're completely spent now."

"A nap sounds nice."

"Then, why don't you take one, are you comfy?"

The little medic nods lightly. "M'comfy."

"Then go to sleep, little guy."


	141. Clipping The Beard

She waited until he was sleeping, his breathing evened out and his snores filled the silence of her room, laying limply on her king-sized bed. She leaned forward, sitting up slightly to spy if he was really asleep or not, she stared at his closed eyes carefully, as if waiting if there would be any movement under the closed eyelids, his mouth hung slightly ajar as he snored softly, and she smiled to herself. He was fast asleep, caught in the grip of deep slumber, his left arm outstretched for her to lay on.

He'd taken the weekend to just come spend time with her, he was a busy angel, she knew he was, he had to take care of so much, and to know that he would make that much time in his busy schedule to just come chill with her made her heart swell with joy.

She'd gone from being disowned by her true father, and being adopted by a new one, one that put her first, one that went out of his way to make sure she knew he loved her. He was the best dad she could have ever hoped to get and she wouldn't trade him for the world.

Knowing he was well and truly asleep, she giggled silently to herself, and leaned over the edge of her bed slightly, careful not to jostle him awake, and opened the bottom drawer of her nightstand softly, reaching in to pull out a pair of scissors, hair trimming scissors, metallic pink, she did her own hair, of course she'd have a pair of hair clippers. Pushing the drawer closed again, she sits back up, turning to watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he slept peacefully unaware of the going-on around him, pushing herself up to sit on her knees, she watches him carefully as she presses her hands to his stomach lightly, applying small bits of pressure slowly but surely as she climbs over him, sitting on his stomach, her knees straddling his sides. She shakes softly with repressed giggles as she reaches forward with her clippers, he likes rubbing his beard into her neck and belly, he's not going to keep it for much longer, she's going to clip it off, or at least, clip it down.

Ava bites her lip softly as she presses her palm to his lips, reaching forward with her clippers, keeping it slow lest she wake him up and she doesn't want to dare think about what he'd do if he woke up to see them in this position.

She yelps in surprise when his eyes snap open, eyebrows scrunching in confusion, his eyes following down to her hand, to the clippers in her hand, and then his eyebrows raise as his eyes come back up to look into hers, reaching up with his right hand, he curled his fingers around the tips of the scissors and pulled them out of her hand, reaching over to set them on the bedside table next to him. He licks her hand and she shrieks, pulling her hand back quickly, rubbing it on the front of his night shirt. "Ew! Dad! That's gross!"

"What were you doing with those clippers?"

Ava giggles softly, shrugging her shoulders lightly. "Nothing." She tilts her head, trying to appear as adorable as she can, hoping to appeal to his better nature. "It's not what it looked like."

"Oh, really, so it wasn't you trying to cut my beard with hair clippers while I was sleeping," he narrows his eyes slightly. "My eyes must have been deceiving me then."

"How did you even know!" She throws her hands up, leaning forward on his stomach. "Do you have some sort of sixth sense!"

"No, I don't, I'm sorry to disappoint." He curls his fingers around her waist lightly. "I felt you giggling. You're not very sneaky, you know, I knew you were sitting on me from the very moment you climbed up there."

"Please, don't be mad, papa."

He smiles up at her, digging his fingers into her hips lightly, she shrieks and jumps slightly, he huffs when she does. "I'm not mad, baby girl, you're not the first person to try and mess with my beard." He throws her off balance, and she shrieks as she's twirled around, landing on her back, him resting above her on his elbows. "And, you're not going to be the last, but perhaps it's time you learned what happens to those who try and mess with my beard." He curls his fingers over her shoulder lightly, keeping her from scrunching up. "You'll learn, just like the rest of them." She inhales when he leans in, burrowing deep into her neck, and shrieks when he nuzzles his face in.

"Papa! Papa, no!" She tugs at his long hair with every nuzzle of his beard against her neck. "Not that!"

"I can't believe you tried to snip my beard." He rubs his chin under her ear and his beloved daughter shrieks. "I love my beard." He pulls back after a moment, smiling at her giggling, he brushes her hot pink hair out of her eyes, curling his fingers around her other shoulder. "Let me show you my favorite thing about my beard." He burrows into the other side of her neck, Ava shrieks brightly scrunching up as much as she can. "Papa! It tickles!" he nuzzles his chin against the side of her neck, and she shrieks with laughter. "Nohohoho! Papa! I'm sohhohorry!"

Nisroc chuckles softly against her neck. "Stop pulling my hair."

"Then get out of my neck!"

"You don't tell _me _what to do, young lady, I tell _you _what to do."

"Then I'm not going to stop pulling your hair!"

"I could move down to your belly."

Ava shrieks at the thought of it, throwing her arms out to keep her fingers from tugging at his hair, giggling and shrieking as he rubs his beard over her neck playfully. After a moment though, she concludes, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, she hugs him tightly.

"I'm sorry, papa, I love you so much, you're the best papa ever!"

The Power chuckles again, pulling away from her neck. "Are you trying to butter me up into stopping?"

"Is it working?"

He snorts softly, turning his head slightly. "You give me a kiss and it will."

Ava giggles, leaning up to kiss the Captain's cheek, and he chuckles lightly, curling his arms around her as he turns them back over, she lays on his belly, her head resting on his chest. "I love you too, baby girl, you're the best daughter a papa could ever ask for."


	142. Crossing Undrawn Lines

They all stood silently in the background, watching the two Power's converse quietly, the medic checking the Prisoners vitals, his reactions, lifting his eyelids to see how they reacted to the light, though he was unconscious, laying haphazardly against the stone wall of his new cell, they had moved him closer so they weren't having to make the trek to the back end of the Prison to check in on him, they had never thought this would be the outcome of their well thought out decision.

Their new Warden stood in front of them, in the entrance of the cell, his arms crossed firmly as he spoke in hushed tones with the two other Powers.

They hadn't expected them all to have jumped the two disgraced Powers.

With his brother's help, Puriel and Titus managed to lift the unconscious prisoner onto his cot, his wounds bound in bandages, his head lulling to the side as he was set down, completely limp in their hands.

They shifted slightly when their captain stepped out of the cell, rubbing his hands together, he glared at them all, and they shifted again, averting their gazes, well, all except Osmadiel, he continued to glare into the cell over their captain's shoulder. "Seeing as it was a prisoner you all decided to harm unprovoked, this matter is out of my hands, you'll all be dealt with by the Warden." They all shifted their gaze over to the oldest Power, conversing softly with their medic on the wellbeing of his Prisoner, the medic rubbed at the back of his neck and peered back over his shoulder, they had done a good number on him.

Nodding sharply, he thanked the medic stiffly, inhaling deeply for a moment, running his fingers through his hair, he turned to face the gaggle of guards, they all shift slightly on their feet, refusing to meet his eyes, and he takes them all in silently. Sorath bites his lip harshly, hanging onto his older brother's arm tightly, standing behind his shoulder, as though hiding away from the world around him. Osmadiel glares at him, he raised his eyes brows and that glare averted to the spot beside his head, defiant as ever. Sabaoth appeared guilty, he hadn't touched the Prisoner, but he'd stood by and allowed the others to act on their compromised judgement. Rahab's chewing on her lip worriedly, her fingers curled around Osmadiel's upper arm, looking down to the floor beneath them in shame. Temeluch and Aeshma stood in the doorway, feeling guilty for having snitched and sending them to their demise, but they were tasked with keeping the Prison, even if it meant turning on their fellow guards.

"You're all relieved of your duties for today." They all flinch at his tone, little Sora even whimpers slightly, pressing his cheek to his older brother's arm. "You'll be coming with me." They turn to follow the Captain as he steps forward, between Aeshma and Temeluch, keeping a pace behind him as he leads them from the Prison and down the steps to the Axis below, other turn to watch them as they march by, behind the fuming Power, parting to get out of his way as he cuts through the crowd, not wanting to face the oldest Power's fury themselves, they cleared away for him as he passed through.

They cross through the Training Field silently, keeping at the Power's back, making sure to not fall behind in pace, in case he turned to look at them from over his shoulder.

The Power leads them down the hall, behind the stairs that led to the Pavilion, passed the barracks for the warriors, and down the hall to an empty office, his office, Sabaoth and Osmadiel have been in this office a number of times, it's never a good time to be brought into this office when he's in that kind of mood. Sorath whines softly, when the Power slams the door shut behind him, pressing his face into his older brother's arm. Saba sighs softly, curling his arm around the younger angel's shoulders, pressing him against his side in comfort.

Nisroc steps around Osmadiel, coming to stand before the four of them, crossing his arms firmly.

"Have you anything to say for yourselves?"

Rahab is the first one to break, breathing a sob into her hands, her shoulders rising as she cries into her fingers. "I—I'm sorry! I—I'm so bad! I—I shouldn't b—be a guard an—anymore! I'm su—supposed to pro—protect p—people and I hu—hurt him!"

"Rahab—"

"Y—Your so a—angry no—now and T—Tus is g—going t—to b—be so d—disappointed! I—I'm s—so s—sorry!"

"Ra—"

"I—I'm so—sorry! P—Please do—don't h—hate u—us no—now!"

"Hey," she blinks at the proximity of his voice, blinking her eyes open, blinking passed the tears, two warm hands are cradling her cheeks gently, thumbs rubbing the tears away. "I couldn't hate you for anything, little sprite, yes, I'm mad, but that doesn't mean I hate you." He smiles down at her gently. "Understand?" She nods, stepping forward to hug herself close to him, and he curls his arms around her tightly, letting her press as close as she needs to for her to calm down her sobs. He rubs her back gently, looking back up at the others, frowning at them each in disappointment, Sorath whines and ducks into Sabaoth's side.

"What you all did is unacceptable, you could have killed him had Aeshma and Teme not have spotted Titus walking passed, you are stationed there to protect, not to harm." He rubs Rahab's back gently. "I won't have this in _my _Prison, do I make myself clear?"

They nod stiffly.

"Good." He looks down at the little guard hugging herself to his front, strokes his hand down the back of her head, and pulls her away slightly. "Ra, it's okay, I don't hate you, I promise." She nods, sniffling softly, rubbing at her nose with the back of her left hand. "Go stand with Osmadiel, alright?" She nods, pulling away from him, and rushes back to her partners side, clutching at his arm again, pressing her cheek to his sleeve.

"Right, now, what to do with you all." He gestures for the oldest one to step forward, Sabaoth nods lightly, tugging Sora away from his side gently, reassuring him that everything was going to be okay, and steps away from him, Sora whimpers as he goes, he can feel just how angry the Power is, he doesn't like it, the last time someone had used that tone and their eyes had shone with that light, Tus had dragged him to the Garden and switched him until he was limp over the overturned tree, he didn't want that again, he immediately ducked to his other side, curling behind Osmadiel's free arm. The older guard curled his arm around him gently, letting his duck into his side. "I will do to you the same as I would anyone of my warriors who attacked someone unprovoked, someone they were assigned to protect, attacked someone who could not defend themselves properly." Sabaoth is silent as ever, trying to maintain an air around him to provide comfort for his younger siblings in this tight knit family they had, facing his old guardian calmly, Nisroc could see the unease in his eyes, the guilt for disappointing them, he may not have actually raised his hand to the two other prisoners, but standing back as the others did was equally unacceptable. He nods to his side. "Get the belt, Sabaoth."

The oldest guard falters slightly, his shoulders curving inwards at the command, but he recovers, nodding quickly and turns to his right, for the mini wardrobe along the far wall, in which he kept a second set of ceremonial robes, a second cloak, and a change of tunics and trousers. He could redress himself without having to take the path all the way up to his room above them, change and return in quick succession. Inside the right door is a hook, hanging from the hook is an old leather belt, it could have been the same belt he had when he was a fledgling, shadowing the eldest Power in everything he did. He couldn't be sure though and didn't have the time to dwell on it nor examine it close enough for any tell signs to his theory. He returns to his position before the Captain, his back facing the other three guards, and holds the object out to him. Large warm fingers rub against his as the Power curls them around the leather belt, pulling it gently from his grasp.

He folds it over, curling the buckle inwards to keep the risk of it digging in as low as the risk could possibly be, and stares down at the guard, Sabaoth and Osmadial are tall, but not nearly as tall as he is, he still has a few inches on them. Maybe a foot or more on the shorter of the four guards, Rahab barely comes passed his stomach, Sorath a bit shorter than that. "Do you think you should have to bare yourself, or, do you think you shouldn't?"

Sabaoth swallows thickly, perhaps more upset with himself in angering and disappointing his captain and old guardian, then he was about the lashing he was about to face, he looks to his boots silently. "I think I should bare myself."

"Why?" His tone is sharp, but there are underlying hints of fondness, a tad of forgiveness in there with it, Nisroc was an angel to avoid when you angered him but he was a forgiving angel as well.

"Because I stood by and allowed them to harm him, I knew I should have stopped them and I didn't, I have an image I'm meant to uphold for them in how we act, and I failed. Standing by as one is harmed is just as bad as striking them is."

"Good, I've never had to explain to you just what you had done that was wrong." The Captain nods towards his desk. "Bare yourself and lean over."

Sabaoth nods slightly, shrugging off his outer vest, setting it to drape over the edge of the desk, tugs his trousers down slightly, and bends over the edge of the desk, the muscles in his back tensing in anticipation.

Nisroc turns to face the others as the oldest guard lays there, arms crossed before him, perhaps for him to hide his face in when he broke, to keep the others from seeing. "I want you all to watch, to see what is coming your way."

Sorath and Rahab nod silently, tucking further into Osmadiel, until it was just eyes peering from behind his arms. The second oldest guard set his jaw, glaring back at him defiantly, almost as if he was challenging the older angel in doing that to him. He narrows his eyes at him, his expression growing firmer, his fingers curling tighter around his belt. "Keep challenging me, Osmadiel, I can make this ten times worse for you."

"I'm not frightened." He lifts his chin lightly in defiance. "You do what you have to do."

"We'll see."

He turns swiftly, pulling his arm back as he did, and swung it forward harshly. The _'whap' _that it created as it bit into their brother's bare bottom was loud and sharp, the calm and collect guard yelped slightly, quietly, biting his lip as he jolted forward. Ducking down into his folded arms when the belt whistles back again, there's a moment of pause, and it whistles again as it's swung forward. The strike is just as loud and sharp as the first one was, Saba jumps forward slightly, a small sound of distress escaping him by the time they reach the fifth strike, they're all slightly surprised he'd managed to hold himself like he had for that amount of time, the Captain wasn't pulling strikes, they were firm and harsh, a certain amount of strength behind them. To make this as memorable as possible. He's sobbing softly by the sixteenth, pleading for him to stop by the time they reach the end at twenty lashes. Nisroc sets the belt down on the side of the desk and eases the guards trousers up, helping him stand straight again, he turns him to face him, smiling softly, rubbing away leaking tears with his thumbs as he whispers something to the oldest guard, something the others aren't privy to, and he pulls him into a brief hug, rubbing at the back of his head soothing as the guard presses his face to the side of his neck.

Sorath struggles against it, hiding in Osmadiel's side, shaking his head frantically as the Power waves him forward. Nisroc sighs and Sabaoth offers a suggestion, at the Captain's permission, and seeing the youngest guard so worked up brings him to nod in approval to the suggestion. Sabaoth gently pries the young guards' fingers from their brother's tunic and leads him forward, he shakes like a leaf as he comes to stand before the desk, shaking his head as he whimpers and cries about how sorry he is. Nisroc has to steel his nerves, because, damnit, the little angel has him wrapped around his finger. The older guard whispers down to him soothingly, reaching down to tug the back of his trousers down, before curling him in his arms. He pushes against him at first, shaking his head, he wants no part in this and especially on his bare bottom, but then the belt comes down for the first time and he shrieks, jumping forward, pushing his older brother back softly, he bumps into the desk. He feels him rest his chin over his curls, fingers tangling in the curls on the back of his head, whispering down to him soothingly as the belt comes down again, and again. It comes down again and again, and he clutches at the front of his older brother's tunic, sobbing softly at the sting each strike brings. He jumps at the last two, they're the hardest, sobbing into his older brother's chest quietly, and Sabaoth curls around him, big enough that he can envelope him in his hug and hide him from the world around them. Warm fingers brush over his waist as they pull his trousers up again, and he's hugged from behind, a beard brushes over his ear as he whispers down to him. He asks if he wants tickles and cuddles later, and he nods, those would make him feel better. The beard rubs over the side of his forehead as he kisses him, patting the small of his back lightly, he lets them step away, back to their group. Sorath curls around Sabaoth, and the older angel reenvelopes him in his hug, swaying them from side to side, as he tangles his fingers back into the curls on the back of his head.

Rahab's next, she cries softly, still upset for having made them both so angry and disappointed, as she tugs her trousers down slightly, stretching over the edge of the desk like Sabaoth had. Nisroc sighs softly as he pulls his arm back, despite what some may think, he doesn't like having to do this. He doesn't like seeing his younger brothers and sisters cry like this. She jumps, shrieking lightly, when the first blow comes down. It's harsh, Nisroc doesn't pull his throws for anyone, whether they be male or female, he treats them all the same. She hops slightly as they come again and again, sobbing into her hands softly, waiting for it to end patiently, and when it does, he barely has time to set his belt down as she's jumping at him, tugging her trousers back up, clutching herself to him tightly. He sighs again, wrapping his arms around her, whispering down to her gently, promising that he doesn't hate her and that it's all okay now, that she's forgiven and it's fine. Rahab has low self-esteem, as he comes to realize, he'll have to talk to Titus about it. See if he knows, and if not, find a way to deal with it appropriately.

He pulls her back slightly, rubbing her cheeks with his thumbs, as he cradles her face. "I don't hate you, Ra, I swear to you I don't, okay?" She nods meekly, rubbing at her nose with the back of her hand, and he smiles down at her, tucking a loose strand of red hair behind her ear, as he guides her around with a hand on the small of her back. She rushes forward to stand next to Sabaoth, he curls his arm around her, keeping Sora close to his chest, and she leans into his side lightly.

Osmadiel is stubborn about it, he forces the Power to come get him, he drags his feet, putting it off for as long as he can. His eyes widen when the Power orders him to stay put, and leaves them for a moment, what causes him to crack is what he sees when he returns, Nisroc makes mention of the language he'd been using when he'd gotten to the Prison, and orders him to open his mouth. He shakes his head frantically, what gets him is the soap, he hates the lashing just as much as the next guy, but the soap gets to him the worst, it's gross and nasty and tastes so bad, he hates that the most. The Captain orders him to open his mouth again, tone lower, calmer, and a calm and angry Nisroc is not a Nisroc you want to meet, when he doesn't, the Power reaches up and pries his mouth open and shoves the bar of soap in. Osmadiel inhales deeply. "Don't you _dare _spit it out, Osmadiel." The second oldest guard feels a tear drip down his cheek, the soap always gets him, and he's turned around forcibly, his trousers tugged down slightly, and pushed over the edge of the desk. He doesn't make a sound at the first strike, nor when they reach the fifth, but when they reach the tenth he starts to whimper softly, by the fifteenth he's got tears streaming down his face, and by the twentieth, he's sobbing around the bar of soap. Two warm hands tug his trousers back up, then they curl around his arms, pulling him around to face him. Os inhales deeply, breathing out a quiet sob around the bar of soap in his mouth.

"If I ever, and I mean _ever, _hear you use that language again, you will sit with that bar of soap in your mouth for an _hour, _do you understand me?"

Osmadiel nods with another sob, and Nisroc nods at him firmly, reaching up to pull the soap from his mouth. He passes him a glass of water to down as he sets the soap down on is desk. Os downs the glass of water and makes a face at the aftertaste of the soap. The Power opens his arms for him and the stubborn little guard sniffles softly, falling forward into those arms, letting them close around him completely. Sighing softly as a large warm hand rubs at his lower back. A bearded chin rubs over his forehead as a pair of lips press against it.

Someone knocks at the door softly, and he calls for them to enter from over Osmadiel's shoulder, rubbing at the back of his head lightly. Titus appears then, opening the door slowly, peering in to see the state of his four guards. Sora and Ra cry harder at the sight of him, throwing themselves at him, spluttering apologies and begging him not to hate them, and he heaves a sigh, hugging them close, assuring them that he could never hate them.

Sabaoth smiles at him lightly, ducking his head slightly as he ducks back to his old guardian's side, Nisroc curls his other arm around him in turn, rubbing their cheeks together.

Titus smiles at his older brother, his two youngest guards curled against his sides, clutching at his tunic. "I'll take these two with me, you keep Saba and Os."

"Deal," Nisroc smiles down at Sorath gently. "We'll get together later, okay, Sora?"

Sorath nods lightly, rubbing his cheek against his captain's arm, turning with him as he guides them from the Captain's office.

He looks up at his captain when they reach the Lounge. "What are we doing now, Tus?"

"We're going to go lay down, now, Sora." He nods. "And, I already got your dolphin." Sora smiles as they walk down the hall towards his captain's room. "We're going to go lay down together." Rahab looks up at him with red rimmed eyes. "Are we gonna cuddle, Tus?"

"Yes, little sprite, we're going to cuddle."


	143. It Comes Naturally

The only mistake he had made on that fine hot day was sit on the bench, watching the training squadron's go through their motions, rubbing the back of his hand over his sweating forehead, sighing deeply as he feels sweat bead down his back, his tunic sticking to his back. Training continued as normal, but they made sure to break frequently for water, it was best to keep hydrated in this heat, especially if you were involved in strenuous exercise. He looked through the lines carefully, his vantage point was a great one, he could see them all, and his brothers could watch the ones in the back. They kept a close eye on them, keeping careful guard for any signs of heat stroke, they'd be stopped immediately and be taken into the shade to cool, given plenty of water, damp cool rags pressed to their cheeks and neck until they were better, and then be sent to rest in their barrack for the rest of the day.

They kept a close eye on their trainees for any signs of danger.

He'd been so focused on looking over those youthful red sweaty faces, that he missed the presence of one creeping up behind him, he did, however, realize they were there soon enough.

A wave of ice-cold water was poured over his head, splashing down his front and back, his hands flew up in shock, shoulders raising slightly, nearly jumping from his seat, as he made a particular expression. He spluttered, as laughter filled in from behind him, wiping water from his eyes, brushing his long bangs back over his head, water dripping from his bun, down his back, he shivered slightly.

Though the method was to be desired, he was cool now, at least.

Bright laughter came from behind him, and he shook his head, reaching back for the one who had soaked him in the ice chilled water, his fingers curling around a thing wrist, tugging them forward, a wooden bucket cladders to the ground under them as they stumble forward, and he tugs them around, bringing them to tumble over the bench, maneuvered into his lap.

She smiles up at him, and he returns the smile in kind, curling his arms around her gently. "Why did you pour a bucket of water over my head?"

"Because, I'm a good friend." She reaches up to tug at his beard lightly. "You looked like you were hot."

"I'm most certainly not, anymore."

"See, I did something nice, I helped you, you're welcome."

"Thank you," there's heavy sarcasm in his tone as he showers her with appreciation. "I don't know what I would have done without your thoughtful aid."

"You would have been roasting, is what you would have been doing."

"You're so generous, baby Power, wherever did you learn to be so."

"It comes naturally."

"You know what else comes naturally?" He smiles down at her mischievously, she remembers that look rather well from her fledglinghood. "Sharing."

"Sharing what, Nis?"

"Well, I'm rather cool now, thanks to your thoughtfulness." He raises her softly, adjusting the position of his arm, securing the young lady in his lap a bit more. "You look rather warm, 'Keelah, let me help you."

Her eyes widen at the implications of that statement, and she shakes her head, raising her hands up between them. "No, no that's okay, knowing I helped you is good enough for me."

"Oh, but I insist." He lifts her into position, her hands doing little to inhibit him from posing her, he tilts his head slightly. "I sincerely insist." He tilts his head to the side and slides into the side of her neck, rubbing his chin over the smooth skin, brushing his beard over her sensitive neck.

Akeelah shrieks brightly, hands bracing against his chest, as he presses his lips to her neck. "Ah! You're _cold_!"

"Who's fault is that?" He nuzzles his beard into her neck, and she shrieks brightly once more, curling her fingers in the front of his tunic, scrunching her shoulder up around him. "Your beard!"

"What about my beard?"

"It _tickles_!"

"It _does_?" He chuckles against her neck and she shrieks at the soft vibrations. "I never realized."


	144. What Love Really Means

The explosion in the Prison rocked Heaven, like an Earthquake, it shook the magnificent buildings in their foundations, books and vials and pots and pitchers and glasses all feel and shattered. Angels stumbled and some fell over, the ones before the Prison, walking down the Axis screamed at the billowing dusty cloud as a center portion of the build collapsed in on itself, ducking and running in the opposite direction as granite and marble flew over their heads, shattered as though made of glass. The guards posted at the entrance ducked and ran forward, jumping down the stairs to avoid being pummeled by debris, running with the crowd to get away from the crumbling building.

Healers stumbled over their feet as their Infirmary rumbled in its foundation, carts toppled over, files went fluttering away, ceramic pitchers and glasses filled with water rattled off their tables and shattered upon impact with the stone floor. The screaming of the crowd below them had them running for the entrance, to see where the explosion that had echoed around them had come from, their Archangel making his way through the crowd to see for himself, they partook in similar horror as they watched, from some distance, as the Prison slowly crumbled on itself, caving inwards, the walls slowly crumbling to dust, a great cloud of it billowing out towards them. There were prisoners trapped within the crumbling building, and though they were to be desired, no one deserved to be crushed to death. The Healer rushed forward, boots pounding on the stone as he rushed down the stairs from his Infirmary, his Virtues following closely behind him, slowly cutting their way through the retreating crowd towards what had once been a looming structure, a reminded of what happened to those who betrayed them.

Warriors stumbled mid motion, some falling to the dirt under them, wracks of swords rattled as the ground shook under them, reaching out to each other for offer limited stability, the glass windows of the Pavilion shattered in the echoes, raining down over those under them. Angels stumbled and tripped over throughout the crowds, their mentors and surveyors reaching out to those nearest them, in an attempt to keep them on their feet, exchanging confused and concerned glances at the echoing explosion that rang around them. Michael hunched over slightly, gripping the arms of those nearest him as they rocked from the impact, trying to help them in maintaining their footing. The ground rumbled for nearly five minutes before it slowed to a halt, the echo of the explosion still ringing lightly in their ears, the Commander let them go as he rushed forward, they followed after him, all eyes wanted to see what had caused such a disaster. They spilled out of the Training Field, looking through the gathering crowd for the cause of such a thing, a few of them cried out, pointing towards something in the distance, partially hidden by a large billowing cloud of dust. They covered their mouths and noses with their hands as they squinted through it, catching sight of a building crumbling down to its foundation, and watched in awed horror as the ceiling caved in, the walls slowly beginning to crumble under the sudden turn in weight. Michael runs forward, towards the crowd before them, those who see him part, making way for him to move through them fluidly, those who don't get tapped on the shoulder by those around them and they jump out of the way as the Commander and his Powers rush towards the collapsing Prison.

The cloud is starting to clear by the time they make it there, guards and Virtues already digging through the rubble for those trapped underneath, the Powers rush forward to aid them, the Commander coming to stand next to his brother as they pull large bricks and broken pieces of walls away. The Principalities join them, diving in between them, picking up where they can't manage, filling in the gap. They manage to lift a large section of a granite wall up from the pile of debris, finding the first being that had been trapped in the crumbling building. Castiel coughs, struggling to his feet as he's freed from his pocket in the debris, two guards pull him to his feet, guiding him forward.

Michael spares him a glance, fingers curled around a large piece of a crumbled wall. "Castiel." He shakes his head slightly as he hefts the large grant block up and turns to deposit it behind him. "I should have known you would play a part in this." He turns to him more fully, the Healer pausing in his own digging on his other side, turning to look at the Seraph quietly. "What happened?"

"G—Gadr—reel", he coughs harshly. "He carved….c—carved a rune into his chest…I was in a cell next to him…. I couldn't see him…he spoke but I can't remember all of what he said…." The guards shake him lightly to get him to keep going. "He...He told Hannah to run….. I think… I think he blew it up…"

Raphael's eyes widen. "There's only one way to cause this much damage, Michael, he caused his own grace to implode. He could already be dead, or close to it, who put him back in there?"

The oldest Archangel shakes his head, motioning for the guards to take Castiel away, but not to let him leave just yet. He turns back to his brother and nods, and they dig back in with renewed vigor, the crowd of them rushing to pull others from the rubble of what had once been the Prison. Warriors ran up behind them, joining in on the dig, pulling blocks and pieces of the walls away, getting them out of the way for them to continue on sifting through the rubble before them. They pulled out two more prisoners, three guards, healers rushed them away to the Infirmary to begin treating their wounds, another prisoner and two more guards, being rushed away to be seen after.

"Here!" They all turned at the sharp cry, a good portion of the rubble having been cleared away, giving them access to what had been the inner parts of the Prison, Puriel found him, half buried under a large piece of a stone wall, face pale, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth and his left nostril, pressing his hands firmly to the bleeding chest wound he'd crudely carved into himself. "He has a pulse, it's weak, but it's there." The once Sentry lays limply on the ground, they would have thought him dead had it not been for the medic's assurance to the opposite, and the slight rise and fall of his chest. "He's loosing a lot of blood though, if we don't move him quick and get it staunched, he may bleed to death."

The Commander and Healer come up on other side of the two of them, kneeling slightly as they gripped the bottom of the large stone wall, Michael nods sharply to the downed angel, and two more of his Power's rush forward, Titus and Haniel curl their fingers under his arms firmly. "We'll lift it, we can only hold it for a second, so pull him out as soon as you're able." They nod, prepared for them to lift it so they can pull him out, and Michael and Raphael share a nod, grunting as they lift the large piece of debris off the Sentry's legs. Titus and Haniel tug him out, he makes no sounds, sliding limply in their grasp as they pull him back.

"Get him to the Infirmary, before he starts choking on his own blood, hurry!"

They nod, backing away from the unconscious Sentry as his old captain knelt at his side. "I'll take him." Titus hefts him up as gently as he can manage, and blood smears into his tunic as the Sentry curls slightly in his hold, more so based on the positions of his arms then of his own moving. They dare not object him, he had once been the young Sentry's captain, he'd helped raise him, in a way. Titus nods to them and turns, rushing through the crowd that parted for him to get through.

Raphael turns to his Virtues quickly. "Oren, Constantine, go with him, you're in charge." The two Virtues nod, rushing after the Power, and they turned back to digging through the rubble looking for anyone else that needed pulled out.

…

When they managed to make it back to the Infirmary, their assigned patient laying on a bed already, momentarily behind the Power, they rushed to his bedside as he gurgled weakly, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth a bit more then before, Titus looked out of his element, unsure as to what to do for the suffering Sentry, choking on his own blood.

"Costa, I need a tube!"

Oren tears the shirt apart, the two sides falling limply over the edge of the bed, turning to look over his shoulder as he waited for his brother to get him what he needs.

Constantine nodded, riffling through one of the few carts that remained intact, young healers slowly cleaning up the mess that had formed around them, finding the tube, he passed it to his brother over his shoulder, Oren nodded in thanks, gesturing for the Power to lift the younger angel's left arm up, he did, watching as the Virtues Captain plunged a scalpel into the Sentry's side. He cut a slice into the side of his ribcage and began feeding the tub into the hole, red liquid filled the clear tube, dripping into the bucket the other Virtue placed at his side.

"His chest is filling with blood, this'll help it drain," he turned to peer over his shoulder. "Costa, I need some tape." It's passed to him as he asks for it, and he tears a few strands off to wrap around the incision sight, to keep the tube from sliding out. "He's having trouble breathing, there's too much blood, his airway is blocked." He looks over his shoulder, blinking when the thicker tube is held out for him, Constantine had known they'd needed it before he'd been asked for it. Oren thanks him softly, leaning over the Sentry's head, Constantine holds his mouth open as his Captain feeds the tub down the Sentry's throat, he chokes softly as it passes through his throat, and down into his trachea, the gurgling comes to a stop, his chest rising and falling a bit more then it had been previously, his airway is open, they're draining the blood from his chest, the two most important things are taken care of, they can move on. "Okay, that'll help him breathe easier."

"Oren, his chest, it's not stopping." Constantine stands at his other side, fingers pressing gently beside the rune he had carved into his own flesh, Titus stand at his head, whispering softly, speaking to the young limp angel between them, his fingers buried in his short hair. "I'm going to ice it, staunch the bleeding." The Captain nods, already working on his next task, undoing the belt around his waist, unbuttoning his Earthen jeans, and carefully shimmying them off of him, down his legs, leaving him in nothing but his undergarments. The other Virtue returns with a black of ice, not huge, but not too small, and sets it to rest on the bleeding chest wound, mentally keeping track of time as he watched the ice slowly begin to melt, the water mixing with the blood, dripping softly down the sides of his chest.

"His legs are broken, in more then one place, I need two braces." Oren sits up, standing, his knees cracking softly as he does so quickly, turning to a healer picking up the contents of a cart stationed at the bed next to them. "Sampson, I need two leg braces, quickly now, go." The little healer nods, dropping what he holds in his hands on the bed, and darts off at the Virtues command, gathering the two leg braces he asked forward at the back of the Infirmary, and rushed back. Oren thanks him softly, pressing his hand to the small of his back, and the little healer nods in turn, returning to what he had been doing.

Jagged ends of bones broke the skin, his breaks were not clean breaks, his legs had been crushed by a large piece of a granite wall. Sliding the braces under his legs, one after the other, he grips the two halves of the broken bones, and tugs them apart slightly, pushing the bone edge back into his leg, and pulls them together to realign the bone, once, then twice, he takes the two braces sitting on the bed next to them, Sampson doesn't seem to notices, and curls one around his left ankle and the other around his right. His broken bones realigned, he binds bandages around his leg and brace, tight, but not overly so, before moving onto the next leg.

Titus watches them closely, kneeling at the head of the bed, fingers still buried in the Sentry's short curls, trying to offer as much help as he can by staying out of their way.

Constantine pulls the ice block off of his chest, setting it into a basin he'd run for after he'd placed the ice, and leans in close to examine the wound, it's stopped bleeding, but watered down blood soaks the wound now, he dabs at it with a thick towel, sopping up the mixture without irritating the sliced skin. It's still fresh, glistening with blood, but it doesn't drip like it had been. Blood is still dripping from the tube in his ribs without pause. Gently, he picks the small pieces of debris out of the torn skin, collecting it on a tray on top of the cart. He has the grim task of breaking the rune, using a scalpel, and a towel to keep the blood from dripping, he cuts a slash just as deep as the rune itself across the lower edge of the carving, breaking the spell in the rune, and sets those aside in favor of a needle and thread, to suture the edges closed. "What did he use to do this, does anyone know?"

"I'm not sure." Oren finishes binding the Sentry's right leg and comes to stand at his other side, watching the younger Virtue as he sews the edges closed with small close stitches, the skin is raised slightly, jagged, nothing with a smooth blade on it, that's for sure. It's going to scar. "Something thick though, for sure, and jagged. The skin is torn open." Constantine nods as he works his way around the large rune slowly and precisely, they each had their preferred type of stitch, his was the close and small stitch. He hums in appreciation as his brother kneels slightly, mopping up the fresh blood that gathers as he pulls the two ragged edges of torn skin together and stitches it up, leaving him a clean work space. It takes them a couple minutes to complete the suturing of the entire rune, and their knees pop when they stand again, after kneeling for as long as they had. With everything bound as it should be, they set about sponging him clean, four basins of water, two on each side, one for clean water, and the other for them to wring out the dirty water. Anticeptic lavender soap suds up the sponges as they brush down his arms and feet. Oren pulls the bandages around his legs down slightly, to rub the sweat and soot away, and puts them back just as snug as before, he pulls his toes apart gently, rubbing the smooth sponge between them softly, the toes curl lightly, and the Sentry grunts softly, it's barely audible, but they hear it. He smiles slightly, peering up at the Power, Titus meets his gaze and nods, giving permission to ask his question. "Does he have ticklish toes?"

The Power smiles slightly, brushing the younger angel's curls back gently, and nods lightly. "He does."

"He must have felt it then," he rubs his sponge between his third and fourth toes. "His toes are curling up as I wash them. That's good, it means he feels it, so there's a less likely chance of paralysis."

Constantine washes his arms, hands, and fingers, then moves up to his neck.

His Captain finishes washing the Sentry's feet and steps up, Titus takes a step to the side as he takes over standing at the head, he lifts his head slightly and slips a thick absorbent towel under him, before setting him back down and dipping his sponge into the basin with clean bubbly water, wringing his sponge out over his short curls, again and again until they were well and truly wet, rubs the bar of soap between his hands, and massages the bubbly soap into his curls, rubbing at his scalp gently. He wrings his sponge out over the sudsy curls, rinsing the soap away, using another towel to gently rub his curls dry, before pulling the one out from under his head and disappearing for a moment with both of them, they'd be laundered within the week. Titus takes his position at his head back, running his fingers through the soft damp curls, staring down at his peaceful features.

"He'll most likely be out for a bit." Constantine rubs his fingers through his hair. "When he wakes up you'll know, he'll undoubtedly choke on the tube, we'll pull it out once his chest clears." He kneels slightly to check in on the tube in his chest, the flow has slowed but is still steady. "It'll take a bit, though."

Titus nods silently, pulling a chair up to sit at his bedside, curling one of his limp hands between both of his, "I'm staying with him."

"We know."

They shared a nod, they fully expected the Sentry's captain to stay with him, Titus was very particular about his guards and Sentry's, and Gadreel was special to him, they'd prepared for it.

"Alright," they turn at the sound of the Healer's voice, him and the Commander having returned, the rest of the Powers and Virtues following after them. "What's the damage." Behind them a few more guards are being carried in, a few more prisoners with them, he comes to stand at the side of the Sentry's bed, the Powers Captain crossing around to the other side to whisper with his younger brother, Titus leaned back, whispering back to whatever had been asked of him. Oren and Constantine turn to him as one.

"He started choking on blood, so we intubated him."

"His chest was filling with fluid, so we put a drain in, it's slowing, but still running steady."

"His legs are broken, though being crushed by a granite wall would do that to you, they were broken quite badly. I realigned the bones and bound them; they'll be braced for some time." Oren shares a slight smile with Titus. "I was washing his toes and he felt it, so that's a relief."

The Healer hums softly. "Ticklish toes?"

Titus nods slightly. "Ticklish toes."

…

"Where is he!" The figure stormed into the Infirmary, his voice firm and harsh, waking those nearest to the entrance with his sudden shout. "I'll kill him! I'll put a blade straight through his heart! I'll tear him apart piece by piece!"

"…Ab….."

The weak voice calling out to him paused him in his tirade. He turned towards it, his expression softening, as he crossed the threshold quickly to make it to his side. The chair at his right side was empty, though the blanket draped over the back was still warm, whoever had left it had left it recently. A weak hand reaches out for him, and he curls his hands around it, lifting it to press his lips to the smooth skin on the back. "Hey, baby brother, how you doing?"

"Hurts."

"I know, I know it does, but things will get better soon." He strokes his fingers over his younger brother's fingers. "I'll kill him later. I'm here for you, baby brother, do you need anything?"

"My nose itches."

"Say no more." He reaches upwards, scratching a finger over the side of his nose, Gadreel wiggles his nose and sighs happily. "Is that better?"

"Mhmm."

They had taken the tube out of his mouth once his chest had been drained of its fluid, the intubation removed once it stopped dripping, and the incision site bandaged up. He'd choked on the tube down his throat when he'd woken up, in a panic, he hadn't expected to wake up. But he wasn't in the Prison anymore, he wasn't locked up, he was laying in a plush comfortable bed, his legs were immobile, but Tus was there and that made it okay. Tus had whispered soothingly down to him as they pulled the tube up and out of his throat, he'd gagged and coughed, but the tube had been removed. His legs were still immobile, but it was okay, he guessed, because Tus was still there, and now Abner was here.

"Did you really…?" Abner frowns down at him lightly, and Gadreel nods softly, touching a finger to his chest. The older Sentry leans forward in his taken seat and pulls the sheet down softly, sighing sadly. "Oh, Reel, no."

"I was there again, Ab, I was there." Tears gather in his eyes despite his attempts at withholding them. "I was trapped again. I felt it. I felt it all. Everything started hurting again and…and…They weren't going to let me out, Ab, they were going to keep me there." He sniffles softly. "I couldn't do it, Ab. I couldn't do it again."

"Oh, Reel, it's okay," he reaches out to catch a tear with his finger. "Don't cry. It's okay. You're never going back there. Especially not now. You blew it up."

Gadreel sniffles slightly, leaning into his brother's hand, fingers stroke his cheek lightly. "Why did it take you so long to come, Ab?"

"Nisroc locked me in our room." Abner frowns lightly. "He said he didn't want me to see you like that." He snorts softly. "I snuck out the window."

"Please, tell me you didn't."

He smiles at the younger angel, turning to peer over his shoulder, their guardian stands there, his arms crossed firmly. "Hey, Tus, I didn't."

"I don't believe you." Titus rubs his head softly as he pulls another chair up beside them. "Don't do it again."

"No promises." He winks at his younger brother and Gadreel manages a small giggle. "It was fun."

Titus rolls his eyes, but he's fond of them, they know he is. He rubs his hand over Gadreel's head, brushing his hair back, smiling to the young Sentry kindly. "How are you feeling, Reel?"

He sighs softly. "I'm okay. I'm just bored."

Abner smiles deviously. "I can help that." He pushes his chair down to the foot of the bed, and reaches forward, stroking a finger down the arch of his foot. Gadreel giggles lightly, his foot jerking, and his older brother smiles up at him. "Can you feel that?" He nods, curling his toes tightly, his brother smiles contentedly, pulling his toes back gently, scratching a finger over the sensitive skin under them. "Can you feel that too?" The younger angel shrieks softly, his foot jerking again, trying to curl his toes up again, but his older brother holds them still. The older Sentry wiggles a finger between his big and second toes. "Can you feel this?" Gadreel squeals softly, throwing his head back into his pillow, Titus smiles as he watches them, their cute, though Abner will deny that with his dying breath, but their cute to watch interact together. He pinches at his baby toe softly. "Can you feel this, too?" Gadreel shrieks, bright and high-pitched, squeezing his eyes shut as his older brother plays with his toes, he regrets saying he was bored.

A warm chuckle curls in with the younger Sentry's soft laughter. "You can play with his toes, but don't get him too worked up." Raphael comes to stand behind the Power, watching them interact fondly, they're cute. "We don't want him to get too winded."

When they flipped him over later that evening, to keep him from getting bed sores, Abner slid in underneath him, despite the others telling him not to, but they fell quiet when the younger Sentry cuddled into him, the usual tears at turning him over abated by his older brother's presence. His fingers curled lightly into his tunic, he hummed tiredly as he nuzzled his cheek against his stomach, fingers scratching through the curls on the back of his head.

Abner smirked up at them. "Told you it would work, but no, what would I know?"

Titus heaved an exasperated sigh and smacked him over the head lightly. "Oh, shut up and go to sleep."


	145. When Tus Is Away

He clutches at his beloved dolphin to his chest, listening to the distant rumbling of the thunder outside, shivering as the rain pelted the window next to him. Tus was away again, normally he'd go to Tus during the bad storms that made it hard for him to fall asleep, but he wasn't there. He didn't want to go to Nis, he didn't want him to know that sometimes thunderstorms made him scared, and he couldn't go to Saba, he needed his rest now, having to take care of everything in Tus's place.

But there was still one place he could go, he'd never made fun of him, he'd never turned him away.

He creeps over the edge of his bed, feet touching the soft stone gently, and stands, his dolphin curled in his arms. He crosses his room silently, and pulls the door open, peeking down the left side of the hall and then the right. When he spotted no one, he stepped out into the hall, turning towards the door to the right of his, and pushed it open slightly with his fingers.

There was a mound resting under the blankets, snoring softly in the dark room, blissfully unaware of the rolling storm around them. Tiptoeing into the room, he pushes the door closed slightly behind him, and crosses into the room. Coming to stand at the side of the bed, he watches the older guard sleep for a moment, and then he reaches out, poking him in the shoulder lightly, when he gains no response, he pokes it harder.

"Huh? Wha…?" Bright gray eyes blink open. "Someone better be dying…." The gray eyes turn up to him. "Sora?"

He smiles slightly and waves a few fingers. The older angel blinks a bit more and frowns, nodding when the thunder echoes around them. "Are you scared?"

Sorath nods shyly, hugging his dolphin close. "Can… Can I sleep with you, Os?"

He nods tiredly, laying back against his pillow. "Sure, you can, little monkey." The younger guard smiles again, climbing up over the older angel in his bed, sneaking under the blankets on his other side. Osmadiel likes sleeping on his stomach, so he doesn't turn too much, he doesn't change position at all, but Sora curls up with him anyway, laying on his back, his head cushioned between his shoulders. His one arm is curled around his dolphin, but he stretches the other one out, aligning it with the older guards on the bed. Osmadiel sighs softly, nodding into his pillow, the warm weight on his back was a lightweight, and curls his arm around the smaller one resting against his, curling his fingers around the little hand, tucking it up under his chin. "Comfy?"

The younger angel nods sleepily, nuzzling his cheek against his brother's shoulder, and a warm pair of lips press to his fingers. "M'comfy now."

"Then, get some sleep, little monkey."

…

"Okay, ready for bed?" He nods softly, curling his toes lightly, listening to the rumble of the thunder echoing around them. His older brother hums softly, watching him closely, looking down at his stuffed dolphin, stroking his finger down the soft dorsal fin. He looks up when he notices the movement in his peripheral vision, smiling at the form of his kneeling older brother, jumping forward to climb up onto his back. Sabaoth stands, curling his fingers around his legs gently. "You can come sleep with me tonight, baby brother."

"Thanks, Saba."

"Always, baby brother."

He blows out the oil lamp, carrying him out of the room and across the hall to his, where the oil lamps shines brightly on the bedside table and the blankets on his bed are pulled back, ready for someone to crawl under them, and curl up to sleep. He turns to the bed, turning around for the younger angel, and Sorath falls backwards, off his back and falling backwards onto the soft bed. Sabaoth's bed is big, it's warm, and his pillows smell like him. "You get comfortable."

Sorath nods quietly, climbing under the blankets as he watches his older brother strip out of his dirty clothes and into his nightwear. He yawns, nuzzling down in the pillows, cuddling his dolphin close, as he waited for him to finish, the final touch being him putting his long hair up into a bun on top of his head. He smiles at him as he turns for the bed, climbing under the blankets beside him, he's busy at the moment, covering Tus's duties with the guards in his absence, but he'd always make time for his baby brother, he was enamored with Sorath, he'd do anything for him.

He waited for him to get comfortable, and then he raised his arm, inviting him under silently. Sorath crawls forward, ducking under his arm, curling against his sides, tucking his head into the crook of his shoulder. Sabaoth leans over to turn the dial on the oil lamp, it fades, and the only light that illuminates the room is from the flashes of lightning from the storm outside.

A beard brushes over the side of his forehead. "Sleep well, baby brother."


	146. Rockets, Puzzles, and Tickles

"I recognize you." He looks up from the front of the puzzle box at the call of someone's voice, turning to peer over his shoulder to see who had spoken out to him, he spots the Power leaning back against the counter, taking a bite out of a full juicy apple. He points a finger at him as he chews on his piece of apple, swallowing lightly. "You were an Elect." He nods to himself as he takes another bite of his apple. "Sorath, right?"

The young guard nods silently, feeling something icky settle inside his belly, he's about to be called out. He's going to make fun of him. Pick at the fact he didn't make it as a Power.

"You're a guard now, huh?"

He nods again, hugging the puzzle box to his chest, waiting for it to fall over him.

The Power nods, taking another bite of his apple. "Cool." He chews the crunchy fruit and swallows. "You like it?"

He nods again, he likes being a guard, he likes Tus and Saba and Os and Ra, he likes where he is now. He's in a good place now.

"That's cool." He nods lightly, taking another bite of his apple. "Are you waiting for Tus?"

Sorath nods again. "We're going to do a puzzle."

"A puzzle, huh, that sounds fun." He turns the apple in his fingers and takes a bite out of the full side. "I like puzzles."

"You do?" He turns around more when the Power nods. "I have lots of puzzles!"

"You do?"

The young guard nods lightly. "My favorite is this one!" He holds up the box proudly. The Power smiles slightly and takes another bite of his apple. "It is? Why that one?"

"Because it's a rocket ship."

"You like rocket ships, huh?" He smiles when the young guard nods excitedly. "I have a toy rocket ship."

Sorath scoots over the chair slightly, sitting on the edge. "You do?"

He nods. "I do." He takes the final bite of his apple and sets the core down on the counter. "Do you want to see?" Sorath nods excitedly and jumps up when the Power pushes away from the counter, gesturing for him to follow, he hugs his puzzle box to his chest and scurries after him. The medic's room is clean, slightly, there's a made bed against the far wall, the usual fireplace and wardrobe and desk, there's a large tank of sea water just inside the door, a large sea snake slithering around the bottom of the tank contentedly. He leads him to the shelfs above his desk, reaching up for a shelf higher then he can see, his fingers curl around something and his arm comes back, pulling down an old metal rocket ship from the shelf, he holds it out for the young guard to take, and Sorath does so carefully, running his fingers over the smooth metal. Red and blue painted, still in pristine condition, well taken care of.

"It's one of my favorites." He reaches up again, pulling down a blue engine, holding it out for the guard to see, Sorath looks at them both with awe, though his gaze always returns to the rocket in his hand. "But the train is _the _favorite."

"I like them both. But the rocket is best."

The Power smiles as he turns, reaching up to set the train engine back on the shelf, Sorath holds the rocket out when he turns back around, and he shakes his head, waving his fingers lightly. "Keep it."

"I can _keep_ it?" Sorath looks up from the rocket in excited awe, and the Power smiles, nodding lightly. "You can have it."

"Thanks!"

"No problem", he reaches out and ruffles the younger angel's hair. "Let's go get Tus."

Sorath nods, following after the Power as he crosses his room, across the hall, and knocks on that door lightly. They wait a breath for the one inside to grant them entrance, and he opens the door when the soft voice calls out to them for entrance, Titus watches them over his shoulder and frowns guiltily when the youngest guard steps in behind his older brother, the box of the puzzle they were supposed to work on curled in his arms, a toy rocket in his hand. "Oh, Sora, I'm sorry." He closes the file he was reading through and turns, standing from his seat. "I completely forgot."

Sorath shrugs lightly, he doesn't mind, Tus has been extra busy these last couple nights, the fact that he offered to spend some time with him was good enough. "It's okay."

The other Power shakes his head as he approaches them, taking the puzzle and toy in hand, he turns, setting them on a shelf next to his door. "It's not, little angel, I promised to spend time with you, and I forgot."

"You were busy."

"I'm not busy enough to not be able to make time for you. We haven't gotten to spend any time together for nearly a month, and I promised you we would tonight, I'm so sorry for forgetting." He turns back to face the young guard, looking up over his head for the older Power. "Puri, if you would step to the left about a step and a half." The older Power raises an eyebrow, but steps to the side as he's asked, Titus nods in appreciation and reaches out, wiggling his fingers into the young guards belly. Sorath shrieks, jumping back, and it's in that moment that Puriel understands why his brother asked him to move over, the young guard jumps back into him, trapped in place, no where to run, and fumbles for the other Power's hands, they evade his skillfully, and his fingers squeeze into his sides. The young angel shrieks, squirming from side to side, and the medic smiles down at him.

This is a cute little guard.

"Is this party by invitation only, or can anyone join?"

Titus smiles up at him, pulling his fingers back, wiggling them over the young angel's belly, his giggles lightly, his hands hovering as though to try and catch them when they move forward to dig into his belly again. "Oh, anyone can join."

"Cool," the medic curls his fingers around the young guards waist and hefts him up off his feet, Sorath shrieks in surprise, kicking out slightly, his hands shooting down to curl around the older brothers wrists. Titus chuckles lightly, stepping aside as the older Power steps into his room more completely, carrying the young guard across the room towards the bed, Titus closes his door behind them, turning as the medic tosses the young guard forward on the bed. Sorath tumbles forward, turning towards them as the two Power's come to loom over him, Puriel turns to his younger brother. "Tus, show me what's good, would you?"

"I'd be glad to, Puri."


	147. Someone Knows Now

"You should probably tell one of your brothers." She sighs, watching as he strokes his fingers over the small bump forming in her belly, wanting the small fetus to know that it's papa is there and knows that they're there too, she closes her eyes and curls her arm over her eyes, blocking out the sunlight in their warm patch of sun in this secluded hideaway in the Garden. "Are you kidding?" She snorts softly. "They'd kill me."

"But they'd know more about this then we would. What if you need to be taking something for you and it to stay healthy? What if there's something wrong? They'd be able to check for all of that.""

"Sure," she sits up at that. "But they'd all tell my dad, and he'd kill us both, I don't want to die at the tender age of sixteen and I don't want to see you get killed."

He hums softly, stretching his legs out, and curling his arm around her shoulders. "We could tell Akriel. He firmly believes in patient confidentiality, unless it's life threatening, and I don't think this would count as life threatening, in the way I think he thinks it means."

She nods lightly. "I could, he does believe in that."

…

"Alright, what can I do for you?"

Akriel crosses his arms lightly, sitting in the small rolling chair next to the bed, looking between the two young people sitting on the bed in front of him. They exchanged a stiff look, and his baby sister rubs her hands together, before looking up at him.

"Ak, first and foremost, I'm here as a patient, so you can't tell anyone."

He raises an eyebrow. "Okaaay." He looks between them both again. "What's going on?"

Iaso inhales deeply, looking at a spot to the side of his head, and clutches tightly at Andre's hand. "I'm pregnant."

"I'm sorry?"

She looks back over to her brother. "I'm pregnant."

Akriel shakes his head and rubs at his ear lightly. "Run that by me one more time."

"Oh, my god. Ak," She leans over and takes his hand, pressing it to the light bump on her belly. "I'm pregnant."

He stares at her, and she stares right back, his hand pressing a bit firmer to her belly. Andre looks to the ceiling silently, refusing to look anywhere but, especially at the Virtue. It had been him who suggested this, but silently, he agreed with his girl, they should have kept it a secret for as long as they could have managed. But here they were, they'd told, there was no taking it back now.

"You're…"

"Pregnant."

The Virtues eyes snap to the young guard next to her. "Do you have something to do with this?"

"Umm." He rubs at the back of his neck meekly. "Maybe?"

"I could kill you."

Iaso shakes her head quickly. "No, Ak," she reaches up for his face, curling her fingers around his cheeks, turning his head around to face her. "Ak, no, he didn't do it on purpose, no, you can't kill him. I need him."

"I could still kill him."

"No." She presses his cheeks together lightly. "No, Ak, would you want your little niece or nephew to be without a father?"

"No, I would not." Her older brother sighs softly, nodding his head in her grip. "But that doesn't mean I can't maim him just a bit."

"No, no, Ak, you can't do that either." She shakes her head. "You can't _harm _him. Not even a little bit."

He holds up two fingers, the finger tips centimeters apart. "A smidge."

"No. You can't hurt him even a _smidge_."

"Fine, I guess." He curls his hands around hers, folding her fingers inwards as he pulls her hands away from his cheeks, tucking them in his fingers. "Take all the fun out of being a big brother, why don't you." He glares at the young guard in training for a moment, before his gaze softens, and he turns his attention back to his baby sister. "And, I am to assume, that since you called on the patient confidentiality rule, you haven't told anyone."

Iaso and Andre shake their heads. "No one but you."

I see," he inhales deeply, heaving a sigh. "Alright, well, against my better judgement, I'll keep it to myself. Seeing as it's nothing life threatening to yourself or the child." He points a stern finger at her. "But I want to see you once a month to check on the progress of the baby." She nods meekly, going cross eyed as she stares at his finger, he smiles slightly, easing the tension, and pokes her in the nose. "How far along are you?"

"Nine weeks."

"Nine weeks!" He glares at her again. "Iaso, you've gone nine weeks without getting the proper treatment!"

"I was freaking out okay!" She holds her hands up to defend herself. "I was staving off the inevitable moment you guys turn your backs on me!"

The Mental Specialist stares at her a moment, caught off guard by that comment. "We'll come back to that in a moment." He leans back, reaching for a pad of paper and a pencil. "Alright, I want you to start taking these immediately. Folic Acid, it's best if you get a supplement, but they it can also be found in green leafy vegetables, nuts, and citrus fruits. Calcium, so you don't lose bone density while the baby uses your calcium producing it's bones. Iodine for healthy thyroid function. Iron to help carry oxygen." He flips the page over. "You also need vitamins D and C, thiamine, riboflavin, niacin, vitamin B12, vitamin E, and zinc." Iaso takes the list when he holds it out to her, her eyes wide, it's a long list.

He's not done though. "You could also do with some raspberry tea, it's sweet tasting, and will help tone the uterus and pelvic muscles. Great for childbirth. Magnisium Oil wouldn't be bad either, it's calming and soothing, and it can help with morning sickness and constipation." He hums slightly. "Pepsin for digestion would do you good as well." He rubs at his chin lightly. "I think that's it. Nothing too strenuous and no heavy lifting."

Akriel nods to the boy next to his baby sister. "Pull the curtains around." Andre nods silently, standing, to complete what was ordered of him. He pulls the dividers around silently, coming back to sit at her side on the edge of the bed, the Virtue waves his hand at him. "Stand up," he points to the Nephilim. "You, lay down, let me examine you." Iaso nods, turning into the bed, laying back against the pillow. She pulls her shirt up slightly, just under her breasts, and he slid closer on his wheeled chair. "Elioud pregnancies aren't nearly as long as human pregnancies are, they grow in accordance to their grace and soul mix, the stronger it gets, the bigger they get to accompany it."

Iaso tilts her head slightly, inhaling when he touches his hands to her stomach, he smiles slightly, sparing her a glance. "Sorry, my hands are a bit cold."

"A _bit _cold, he says," she glares at him lightly. "They're _ice cubes_."

"It wasn't my intention to freeze you so horribly."

"I forgive you, big brother." She smiles slightly as he hums in amusement. "What's an _'Elioud'_?" Andre moved to stand at her head, tilting his head in similar fashion to the way she did, curious just as much as she was. Akriel spares them a glance as he feels around her belly. "The offspring of a Nephilim, a subrace to the Nephilim, there are few left in the world after The Flood."

"Do you know what it is?"

He shakes his head, pulling his hands back, for which she was grateful for, his hands hadn't warmed in the slightest. "It's still too early to know at the moment. I'd say based on what I can feel and sense, you're actually more around the frame of eleven weeks, he or she is just a small little thing, they'll double in size by next week." The older angel pulls her top back down, patting her belly softly, as he leans forward against the edge of the bed, crossing his arms slightly. "Healthy as healthy can be. Energetic, like they're mom, stronger then the usual Elioud is, seeing as it's other parent is an angel."

Andre and Iaso exchange looks, still caught up on what he had said before. "They'll _double _in size by next week?"

"Oh, yes," he nods assuredly. "I imagine you'll have to get some new clothes. You won't fit into your normal ones by that time." He eyes them both. "That's why, now just hear me out, I would suggest you tell your guardians. Titus and your father will find out sooner then you think they will, and believe me when I say, you'll want them to find out from yourselves over them finding out for themselves."

"Titus is going to kill me."

"My dad is going to kill me."

They both shake their heads in time with one another. "They can't know."

"Oh, they'll _know_, one way or another, _trust_ me." Her older brother looks up at her from where he's leaning against the edge of the bed. "He's going to blow a fuse either way, believe me, it won't matter how he finds out."

"You're not exactly helping me want to tell him."

"What are you afraid of?" He rubs at his cheek lightly. "Why don't you want him to know?"

"Umm, I thought we'd been over this, because he'll kill me and I'm too young to die."

"No, no, there's something else." Akriel eyes her carefully, pursing his lips. "I can see it in your eyes, there's more fear in them for merely telling him your sixteen and pregnant, so what else is there, come on, out with it." He rubs her arm lightly. "It's me, Ak, your _favorite _big brother. You can tell me anything."

Iaso bites her lip lightly, shaking her head, averting her gaze to her lap as she twiddled her fingers. How could she begin to explain _that, _it was personal, something she hadn't told anyone, it was something she hadn't thought she'd have to worry about before, until she did, and it came sooner rather then later.

"Come on, Ia, I promise it's not that bad. Spill those beans. Tell Ak what's wrong."

Andre curls his fingers over her shoulder in assurance. She takes a deep breath. "I won't be marriageable anymore. You'll all leave like my mom's family did."

Akriel sighs sadly, she didn't talk about her childhood often, and from what little she did, he understood why. "Well, that's a rather old way of thinking." He reaches out for her, curling his fingers around her cheeks, forcing her to look up at him. "I can tell you, without any hint of hesitation or falsehood, that we would never leave you, especially not for this. Real, true family doesn't do that."

She sniffs softly. "Even dad?"

"_Especially_ your dad. He adores you, baby sister, more then anything in the universe. You'd have to kill him, and that's no easy feat, to separate him from your side."

She leans forward, Iaso reaches her arms out, and the angel reaches back, curling her into his arms soothingly and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "We're not going anywhere, baby girl. I swear."

"I love you, Ak." The Nephilim presses her face to the crook of his neck. "You are my favorite."

He pulls her back slightly, curling his fingers around the sides of her head, pressing their foreheads together. "You should tell him, sooner rather then later, before he finds out on his own."

"Okay, okay," she nods lightly. "I'll tell him."

Her older brother smiles at her gently, pressing another kiss to her forehead, before resting their foreheads together again. "Do you want me to come with you."

The teenager nods softly and he kisses her nose gently. "Okay, I'll come with you." He squeezes her cheeks gently. "He's in his office, should we go now?"

"Can we tell him later?"

"The sooner we tell him the better."

She licks her lips nervously. "Will you hold my hand."

"I won't let go until you do."

Iaso sighs softly, looking up into his silver eyes. "Okay, we can tell him now."

"Good girl." He kisses her nose softly and pulls away, standing from his wheeled chair, and reaches out for her. Iaso curled her fingers around his hand and he helps her stand up from the bed, guiding her out from behind the dividers, others turn to look at them in confusion but make no comment on it, and Akriel leads her gently between the beds to the office on the far right.

They stand outside the door, she nods when her brother looks down at her, and he raises his hand to knock on the door.


	148. A Light To Call Home

They were in and out of these places, they stayed until they couldn't legally be kept any longer in short term facilities and left, coming back again and again. They were on a first name basis with the staff, and it wasn't something to brag about, it was wrong, it was upsetting, and nothing they did changed anything. They did the same exact things, went through the same exact motions, and always ended up locked away in a bare room, an air mattress on a free standing bed with a pillow and a blanket, scrubs, and hospital meals, a prisoner without being locked in an actual prison.

It hurt that no one bothered to ask where they were going after they were discharged, no one seemed to care enough to find out why they kept coming back, no one bothered, they'd only sigh and hand them their scrubs and blanket, their room was always open, they were considered a regular at this point.

She got nothing out of these short term facilities, perhaps a bed and some meals, but nothing worthwhile. She refused to talk to them, no matter how hard they tried, refused to talk to the doctors or nurses, the other patients, refused to talk about the scars, both mental and physical, out of sight, out of mind, in her book. She didn't like sitting with the other patients, didn't like partaking in group, didn't like taking the pills they gave her. She'd hide them under her tongue until she got back to her room and would flush them down the toilet when she knew she was alone. When they found that out, she changed her methods, hiding them in her cheek, swallowing them and then spitting them up before they could dissolve, they had tried to force her to take them, once, she'd bitten them and the nurse had needed two stitches, they didn't try again, if she didn't want to help herself by taking the medicine they said she needed then it wasn't on them, there was only so much they could do to help.

She did like the meals, though. She ate her entire tray, eating the leftovers that the other patients didn't want, a meal was a meal, and she'd eat her fill while she was there. She did like sitting in the corner of the group room or the small courtyard and drawing in her small leather sketchbook, they didn't let them have pens, she liked pens, but they did let her have pencils, no metal caps on top, no erasure. That was fine with her, she didn't need an erasure, she made her mistakes into something wonderful too. There was no such thing as a mistake, only a stepping stone, something to make better.

Time and time again, nothing changed, nothing they did was helping her. No matter what sort of divine intervention they played into, nothing changed, they always ended up back in the place, in the same scrubs, under the same blanket, eating the same food, sitting in the same corner.

They hated to do it, hated to say it, but nothing they did helped. Nothing they did made any difference.

So, they gave up.

And handed their charge off to someone else.

Someone who could help her.

…

"Brother, do you have a moment?"

The Virtue looked up from the file he was reading, and smiled, nodding to the Guardian in acknowledgement, closing the file softly, and tucked it against his chest. "Of course, how can I help?"

"My charge," the Guardian looks down to her hands. "I don't know what to do anymore. Nothing changes, no matter what I do, nothing changes anything."

The Virtue frowns lightly, leaning over to set the file on his desk, gesturing for the Guardian to sit on the bed next to them, he sat in his chair, facing the distraught Guardian with concern. "Tell me what's wrong."

…

"I already told you, I'm not doing the group sessions."

"I'm not here to tell you to go to group. Though, they appear to be finger painting, and seeing as you like art, I'd say you'd quite enjoy that."

She looks up at the new voice, she's never heard his voice before, he's new here. He doesn't look like the doctors and nurses, he's not wearing a white coat or scrubs, no stethoscope around his neck, she thought he might be someone's family visiting, but then when they did, they never bothered her, they left her alone in her corner with her little book and blunt pencil and pretended she didn't exist, while she pretended they didn't exist too. He was different, he looked normal, in a pair of dark jeans, white shirt, and leather jacket, ankle high boots on his feet, blonde-silver hair pulled back in a bun, she liked his beard.

She looked passed him, to where the group session was going on, and then looked back to the man before her.

"They'll call the cops if they see you talking to me. Stranger danger, and all that jazz," she looks back to her book and her pencil begins to move again. "Someone might think you're a kidnapping pedophile or something."

He chuckles lightly, as though he was amused by that. "They can't see me." She looks up at him as though he was the _'crazy' _one, great, she got stuck with the new patient who thought they were invisible. "Are you new here?" She eyes him carefully. "You're not wearing our scrubs, so maybe not, are you a new doctor?" He chuckles again, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles at her, and he steps forward, taking a spot at her side. She slides away a pace, but doesn't get up, this is her corner, after all. "Something like that, yes." She eyes him carefully, pulling her book closer, curling her arm up around the top edge. "And you think you're invisible?"

"I don't _'think' _it, I _know _it, I can appear to whoever I so please to, and do what I please." He huffs in amusement softly. "They can't see you either."

She pauses, her pencil stilling on the worn page, and looks back up to him, he smiles again and nods to the group just a few paces away. "See for yourself."

The teenager stares at him, setting her book down, and scrambled to her feet. Barefeet padded against the linoleum flooring as she scurried across the room to the group session at the table. They were finger painting, this mysterious stranger was right, she smacked a few patients on the shoulder lightly, nothing, she waved her hand in front of the nurse, sitting behind them, playing on her phone, nothing, she climbed up onto the table and danced around, nothing. Looking back over to the mysterious man, her eyes were wide, watching him flip quietly through her book, as though waiting for her to finish her mischief and come back. He knew she'd come back, that book was her most prized possession, she'd fought many nurses over having it.

She jumps down from the table, scurrying back to her corner, standing before the man with wide eyes and clenched fists. He spares her a glance as he flips the page of her journal. "These are very good. You pay close attention to detail."

"How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Make me invisible!"

He smiles slightly, holding her book out to her, and she snatches it up, curling her arms around it. "Well, there's a rather long answer to that question, but I'll spare you the fine details of it, and just say its _'magic'_."

She sits in front of him, crossing her legs under her, staring at him closely. "Who are you?"

"Again, that's a rather long answer to such a simple question, we'll stick to basics, my names Akriel." He smiles at her kindly. "You can call me Ak. And, your name's Jaleel, right?"

The teenager's eyes widen. "How do you know my name!"

Akriel leans back in his chair, crossing his right leg over his left knee, and crosses his arms lightly. "I know all about you. I know your name is Jaleel. I know about what happened with your stepfather. I know about what happened with your mother. I know about those scars on your arms. I know that you'll return here in one weeks' time when you're released. I know that your most treasured possession is that book right there. I know you don't take your medicine like you're supposed to. I know you don't talk to the doctors. I know a lot about you."

She stares at him, Jaleel doesn't know what to say to him after all that, he did know a lot about her. "Are you some kind of stalker?" She bites her lip, hugging her book closer. "Are you stalking a fifteen year old?"

"Oh, Heaven's no, I'm far from being a stalker." He smiles warmly, tapping his arm lightly. "I'm your Guardian."

"My….Guardian…?"

"Yes, your Guardian." He hums softly, shaking his right foot slightly. "Your Guardian angel."

"My…My Guardian angel?" Jaleel tilts her head slightly. "If I were you, I'd have given up by now."

Akriel hums softly. "I'll be honest with you. Your originally Guardian did. I've only been your Guardian for approximately an hour. Rebecca did her best, but she figured she needed help, and from what I've heard about you, she was right."

The teenager stares at him for a long minute, and he smiles, waiting for her to respond in her own time. "Why did you take over then?"

"Because, I thought I could help you the best."

Jaleel uncurls her legs out from under her, crossing them before her instead, and she sets her book down to sit in her lap. "How?"

Akriel hums softly, reaching up with his right hand to rub at his chin, scratching lightly through his beard. "I'm the Mental Specialist. She thought it appropriate."

"So," she frowns. "You're an angel shrink. Great. Another doctor telling me what's wrong. Well, thanks for coming, but I'm not interested. You can go back to your harp and halo and do what angel's do. But, I'm good."

"I don't know how to play the harp, I do know how to play the piano and guitar though, music's calming." He gestures to her book. "Just like drawing is. Those are great, did you learn, or natural?"

The teenager rolls her eyes, reaching for the pencil next to his foot, and reopens her book, returning to the piece she had been working on before she had been interrupted. "Natural."

"Nice," he hums softly. "Draw me."

That turns her attention back to him. "What?"

"Draw me. I want to see what I look like on paper."

She narrows her eyes slightly. "You're not trying to trick me into talking to you are you, because I won't talk to those doctors, so what makes you think I'd willingly talk to an angel doctor instead."

Akriel rolls his eyes slightly. "Please, I've learned enough to know that forcing someone to do what they don't want to gets you nowhere, have a little faith in me, please." He gestures to her book and pencil. "I'm serious, there are literally no portraits of me, and it's kind of insulting, people don't even know I exist, I want to see what I look like on paper, so draw me."

The girl huffs, but turns the page, finding no deception in his words, and looks up at him with narrowed eyes for a long minute.

He makes a face. "Should I pose?"

A small smile slips from her façade and she shakes her head. "No, just be natural." And then, as though off hand, she makes the comment of, "I wish people didn't know I existed." When he says nothing, she looks back up at him, he smiles back down to her, but remains silent. "What, no prying, no questions, no fake concern while you tell me what's wrong with me?"

The angel shakes his head slightly. "Nope. You're free to say whatever you want. We won't talk about it if you don't want to. I'm happy to just sit here and wait for you to finish my first ever portrait. We can do whatever you want to."

She stills her pencil. "Can you get me out of here?"

"Can you not try and kill yourself one week after they discharge you, every, single, time?"

They stare at each other, their gazes unwavering, and she's the one to look down first.

He hums. "That's what I thought."

"I thought you said you were an angel," She grips her pencil tighter. "_My _Guardian angel." She looks back up at him with angered eyes. "Shouldn't you tell me not to? Shouldn't you tell me how wrong it is? That I'm going to rot in Hell if I succeed."

"You're the one who said that you didn't want fake concern, I don't want you to think my concern is anything but genuine, if I can't show my concern, I'm going to be blunt about it." He nudges her shoulder with his boot. "Come on, keep going, it's not going to draw itself."

"Do you even want to know _why_?"

"Not if it's going to depress me, preferably not, I'm in a rather good mood."

"_'Mental Specialist' _my ass." She glares at him heatedly. "You're not very good at this."

"Oh," he wags his eyebrows playfully. "I'm the _best_."

"Sure." She huffs, not convinced, and looks back down to her page. Her pencil skims over the paper, outlining his head lightly, and she looks back up for the features. "If you were as good as you say you are then you'd ask me why, you'd want to figure it out, you'd want to know that I do it because I'm alone and doing that is the only thing that gets me back into these places so I'm not looked at like I'm a disgusting reject. Even if it is fake concern and they all get paid to _not _look at me like that. You'd want to know that I do it because I feel guilty and can't live with it all the time. You'd want to know that it's because I'm sick and sometimes I can't help it." She sketches out the curve of his nose. "See, you're not very good at this, you didn't even ask about it like doctors are supposed to."

"I'm not very good, huh?" He sounds amused. "I didn't even _have_ to ask. You just _told_ me."

Her hand stills, the teenager's attention turning back up towards him, eyes wide in surprise. She _had _just told him. He hadn't even asked, he hadn't tried to butter her up into it, hadn't tried to make any false hopes and fake statements, he just sat there, and she'd spilled her guts like a can of overturned soda. "You tricked me!"

"I'm just sitting here silently." The angel shrugs his shoulders. "How is that tricking you?"

Jaleel huffs softly, nodding to his question, he was right. He had just been sitting there in silence, watching her hand move over the paper of her journal, not saying a word on any of the matters at hand. He hadn't shown an ounce of fake concern, an inkling of unreal sorrow, and then try and diagnose her with something. He just sat there and listened. She turns back to her drawing. "You're sneaky."

"It comes with the title, sorry."

"You don't sound very sorry."

"I'm not. Not really. It was just a platitude."

She looks back up at him, if only to get the shape of his eyes, they're almond shaped. "You're not like other doctors."

"Other doctors are _boring_." Akriel presses his hand to his chest. "I'm a _great_ doctor."

Jaleel smiles slightly, looking back down to her drawing, shading in his face with the edge of the pencil's graphite. She tilts her book against her when she sees him lean forward, trying to sneak a peek at the unfinished product, and he huffs when his view is disrupted. "Are you doing just my face or my entire person?" She shrugs, hunching forward to continue shading his face. "Come on, at least give me something."

"You have to wait."

"But, as your Guardian angel, I deserve a sneak peek."

"My Guardian angel is impatient."

"Darn right I am."

"You're not getting a peek, so you can just sit on back, I'll show you when I'm done."

He huffs softly, but it's playful, and he sits back again. She gets to his chin and rests her pencil against the paper, looking up at him silently, he raises an eyebrow but says nothing. "Can I touch your beard?"

"You want to touch my beard?"

The girl nods silently. "For texture, I want it to look right when I draw it."

Akriel chuckles lightly, but nods, leaning forward slightly. She inhales softly, reaching her fingers out, and brushes them over his beard. It's rough, scratchy under her finger tips, but soft at the same time. Smooth is a better word. She smiles slightly, petting his beard lightly with her fingertips, and he chuckles softly. "You like it?" Jaleel nods softly, tugging lightly at the ends, and leans back again, retracting her hand, he smiles as he leans back too. "I like it, too."

She nods softly, turning back to her drawing. "I like you, you're not like other doctors, you don't pretend."

"Doctors shouldn't pretend to care, they should care because they have a heart, I genuinely care for you."

"You're better then all those fakers."

He hums softly. "Thank you, I couldn't have asked for someone better to be a Guardian of."

Jaleel snorts softly. "You should have wished for someone who wasn't so broken."

"I don't believe in broken people. You're not broken. You're just slightly bent." He presses a hand to his chest. "I have PTSD, does that make me broken?"

The teenager's head shoots up to look at him with surprise. "You have PTSD?"

Akriel nods, examining his nails for a moment. "Yep. You wouldn't know it, but we angels had been at war for nearly four eons. We all have a semblance of it. Even the Archangels. If that doesn't make us broken, I don't know what does."

"You're not broken. You're just bent."

He looks back down at her, an eyebrow raised, an amused smile playing at his lips. "I just told you that."

"I liked it."

"Thanks, I made it up myself."

Jaleel looks back down at her journal page, streaking her pencil across the page, shading his hair in, she messed up a bit on the bun and recurved it inwards a bit more, the line was just a bit thicker then the others. "What's your home like?"

"Big, bright, full. There's lots of us up there. The buildings are magnificent. We all have a place where we belong, where we're all excepted. We're individuals, even though we're all related, we don't act like it."

"I wish I had a place to belong. I just have myself. Mom and dad got divorced when I was eight, dad left the state and started a new family, mom met _Dave _and they got married and had a couple of kids, and then it was like I didn't even exist anymore. Mom forgot I was even _there_. She stopped washing my clothes and setting my place at the table. She stopped acknowledging I was even there towards the end." She huffs softly. "So, I packed myself a bag, took my journal, my favorite jacket, and left." She looks up to catch the curve of his ears. "I doubt she even realized I was gone. I didn't belong there anymore. I don't belong anywhere."

"Of course, you do."

"That's easy for you to say." The teenager looks up at him for a moment. "You have a family. I don't have _anyone_."

"You have me."

"Pfft, sure, my Guardian angel, who no one else can see."

"You're homeless, right?" She glares at him but nods, and he rubs at his chin thoughtfully. "Have they ever met your father?"

Jaleel stares at him, trying to figure out what he's doing, but he's as hard to read as a book in a foreign language is. "No. He lives in Florida."

The angel nods lightly, uncrossing his legs, leaning forward on his elbows. "You're ready to get out of here, right?"

The teenager nods. If she has to take in one more fake look she's going to lose it.

"I'll cut you a deal," he stares down at her, she stares up at him, both waiting for the other to react. "I'll get you out of here, but you have to make me a promise first."

"Promise, what?"

"Promise you'll talk to me, every morning, about anything you want, no matter how ridiculous."

Jaleel closes her book as she stares up at him, with wide eyes, surprised at the proposal, not sure how to respond to it. "You promise not to pretend?"

"Cross my heart." He makes a cross over his heart with his finger. "I'll never pretend to care."

She seems unsure, all the other adults in her life have let her down, but she feels like she can trust him. He hasn't judged her in the times his sneakiness has gotten her to talk, he hasn't said anything bad about her, and he most certainly hadn't pretended to care since he'd introduced himself that long hour ago. "Okay…. I promise." Jaleel leans forward on her elbows. "But, where will I go, I don't have anywhere I belong."

"You'll come stay with me, you've suffered enough in the hands of mankind, it's time for us to take over." He nods to himself, rubbing at his chin again, assuring them both. "You wouldn't be the first human we've taken in, and I don't believe you'll be the last, of course, at some point we'll have to meld your soul into a ball of grace, but that's later." Akriel nods again. "I'll get you out, and you'll come stay with me, we'll get you everything you need."

The teenager stares at him in wonder. "You'll _get _me stuff?"

"Of course, I will, I'm your Guardian, remember."

"But I thought being a Guardian angel meant that you did little miracles or something, not like, giving me an actual place to stay."

"A home, I'm giving you a home, well, offering it, but all the same." He waves his fingers dismissively. "_'Miracle'_ is really just a word." He smiles down at her lightly. "Besides, who would know what we Guardians do better then a Guardian."

Jaleel feels a small smile trying to creep over her features, she tries to hold it back, but fails when he touches a finger to her lips. "Nope, can't take it back, I _saw _it."

Akriel hums softly. "We'll have to get you some new clothes though, you'll have to dress the part, if you're going to be one of us. Do you prefer skirts or pants?"

"Pants for sure, skirts are too girly."

"Okay, we'll get you some trousers then. Some tunics. Undergarments, of course. Boots or sandals?"

"Boots."

"Okay, we'll get some boots. We'll get you some vests too. Vests are nice. And, some clothes for winter, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it, it is presently a nice, warm summertime. How about colored pencils, do you like colored pencils?"

Jaleel nods, watching him rant to himself, making a verbal checklist of all the things they'd get. "I like colored pencils."

"Good, we'll get you some colored pencils. That portrait of mine better be in color." He looks back down at her. "Unfortunately, my room isn't big enough for three beds, Orion and Gzel share one, my son stays in the Ancient City—"

"You have a son?"

"Yes, and two daughters, three if we count you." He nods to himself. "We'll have to share a bed, is that okay?"

"Anything's okay, just get me out of here."

"Okay, here's our deal, I'll get you out of here, you'll come stay with me, and you have to talk to me _every _morning, do you agree to my terms?"

She thought it over a minute, hugging her book to her chest tightly, and nods a moment later, holding out a hand to him. His hands are big, his fingers long, his hand dwarfs hers as he reaches out in turn to shake her hand. "Deal." She watches as he smiles, shaking her hand gently, and stands from his chair, he's tall, how had she not realized how tall he was, she hadn't really been paying attention at the beginning there. "How are you going to get me out though? Won't they notice if I just disappear?"

"Yes, they would, I'm not allowed to touch others minds without permission, just trust me." He kneels before her, reaching out to set his hand over her head. "Can you trust me?"

She shrugs, she's not sure, she feels like she can. He just gives that vibe, you know, that you can trust him. He hasn't judged her any, hasn't forced her to do something she hadn't wanted to do, well, until they made that deal, she wonders if he'd go back on it if she didn't follow it. Akriel's been kinder then any other adult has been to her, since that day, and he's hasn't pretended an ounce since they met. "I'll try to."

"That's all I ask." He winks, and in a moment, a blink of the eye, he's gone. She looks around for him, wondering where he went, he just up and vanished. He asked if she trusted him, it could come back to bite her in the ass, but she would try, he said to trust him. They made a deal. He wouldn't make a deal and say all of that stuff just to blow it off, would he? Jaleel shrugs, pushing herself up to her feet, tugs the blanket off her chair, and curls back up, reopening her book to continue on his portrait from what she can remember of his appearance.

"Jaleel," one of the nurses from the group session wanders her way back over to her corner cautiously, there's a bookshelf behind her, she's been known to throw books if they get to close. "Are you sure you don't want to join us, we're going art."

"I told you, a million times, I will _never _join those asinine group sessions." She reaches back for a book, her fingers curling around the spine of a thick novel, and she pulls it from the shelf behind her, it's a bible, she doesn't miss the humor in this little twist of irony. "So, stop asking me!" The teenager hurls the book at the nurse, and she yelps, jumping back from her.

"Jaleel!" She knows that nurse, she's the one that works at the desk, she's there to give her the wrist band when she comes in for the two weeks she's ordered to stay. Jaleel uncurls, watching as _he _follows in after her, the same leather jacket, bun on the back of his head, and scratchy but smooth beard, she smiles slightly when he winks at her again. The nurse stops a good pace away, cautious of the bookcase behind her, and gestures to the man behind her. "Your dad's here to take you home, isn't that great!"

"Home?"

He nods lightly. "Home, baby girl."

Jaleel smiles slightly, uncurling from her place in her chair, unwrapping herself from her blanket, and hugs her book to her chest. "Can I get my stuff?"

The man holds up her backpack and the plastic hospital bag of the clothes she had worn when she'd gotten there. "I got everything, why don't you go change while I sign you out." The teenager nods silently, stepping passed the startled nurse, this was unlike her to be so calm, and she took the bag of her clothes from the man's outstretched hand, passing him her journal in turn. She steps forward quickly, hugging around his middle tightly, for a moment, her ear pressing to his stomach, and she whispers a soft _'thanks Ak'_. He rubs his free hand down the back of her head. "Go get dressed, we have to get home before sun down."

The teenager nods, scurrying off to her room to change, the nurse turns to him, directing him to the desk up from, he sighed, he hates paperwork in any form.

Jaleel changed quickly, kicking her scrub pants off and jumping into her torn skinny jeans, throwing the scrub top off, yanking the buttons open, and hurrying into her t'shirt, yanking her favorite faux leather jacket over her bare arms, the long sleeves hid the scars from prying eyes. Fishing her bracelets from the bottom of the bag, she pulled them over her wrists, and tossed the bag over her shoulder, as she hopped into her high tops, tucked the shoe laces inside, and ran out the door excitedly. She was getting out of this place, freedom, almost freedom, was hers.

Akriel is standing next to the desk, signing the forms for her release, ignoring the nurse's longing look rather skillfully. He looks up at the sound of her sneakered feet smacking the linoleum floor at her approach. He smiles at her, eyeing her leather jacket, and raises his elbow slightly. "We match."

"I got my fashion sense from my dad."

She comes to stand at his side, watching him sign his name, reaching to take her backpack up from where he set it against his right leg, pulling the straps over her shoulders. She looks around, first over the counter, then between his hands, frowning when she only sees the pen.

"I put your journal in your backpack."

The teenager nods, leaning against the counter to watch him sign the paperwork, and he smiles down at her, finishing his signature on the last page. The nurse thanks him, rather obviously looking at his hand for a ring on his finger, he ignores that rather skillfully as well. Curling his arm around the teenager's shoulders, he pulls her close to his side, taking the folder of his copy of the paperwork from the nurse, thanks her kindly, and turns them around towards the door.

When they step out into the setting sun, he lets her pull away, she looks over her shoulder to the doors, closed now, out of that prison. "She _liked _you."

"I know, she was _very_ obvious." He winks down at her. "How can she not, look at this handsome face."

She snorts, shoving him slightly. "You're so full of yourself, _angel _doctor."

"I'll have you know, I'm _very _humble." The angel tugs on her arm when they near a dark alley, and she follows him, eyeing their hideout cautiously. "What are we doing here?"

"We needed a secluded space so I can let my wings out, flying is the only way to break through the barrier, this'll do."

Jaleel turns to stare at him. and he smiles. "I'm an _angel_." He shrugs his shoulders. "Of course, I have wings." He rolls his shoulders slightly and she steps back, watching in awe as two large feathered wings uncurl from behind him, they spread wide, stretching out, and curl around his shoulders slightly. They're beautiful, white with brown speckles, and she stares in awe. He looks over his shoulder, stretching his wings slightly, and looks down at himself. "Oh, I almost forgot." He waves his hand in a downwards motion and his clothes begin to change. The sleeves on his leather jacket begin to shorten, the sleeves of his tunic lengthening, the jacket turns into a leather vest, hanging open, and the t'shirt turns into a long sleeved tunic, the collar hanging open loosely. His jeans change from long jeans into knee high trousers, his ankle high boots growing in length. He looks like one of those people in an old timey medieval book she'd seen once at the Library. "Woah!" She doesn't stare at the change of clothes so much as she does the wings, still, breath taken, she'd never seen anything like it before. "You have _wings_!"

"I do." He stretches one out towards her. "Do you want to touch it?" The teenager nods, reaching out tentatively to run her fingers over the soft feathers, they ripple under her fingers. "It's so soft."

"Isn't it?" Akriel pulls his wing back, stretching out again, and smiles down at her. "Are you ready to go?"

Jaleel nods silently, watching as he nods in turn, turning around, his back facing her, and he kneels slightly, beckoning her forward with his hand. "Climb on." She nods, again, and slowly jumps onto his back. He curls her legs around his waist and she wraps her arms around his neck loosely. "Won't this hurt you?"

"Not in the slightest. You're not the first person I've flown hanging from my back and you won't be the last." He peers at her from over his shoulder. "Duck down, the wind speed will burn your eyes." She nods, ducking her head, pressing her forehead between his shoulders, and she feels him crouch slightly, tense for a moment, his wings open wide, and in one foul swoop, he jumps up, and snaps his wings, they ricochet upwards. The wind hums in her ears as they climb upwards fast, until they fall into a steady beat, he squeezes her thighs comfortingly, and as though to signal that it was safe to look, and she pulls away from her hiding spot.

First she looks down, gasping at how small everything looks, getting smaller and smaller by the minute. She looks up, following his gaze, and gasps again, the air's rippling, like a rainbow over water. She squeezes her eyes closed when they gain closer and closer, the wind howling in her ears falls silent, a wave of _something_ overcoming her as they break through, and their speed starts to slow, the wingbeats softening. She peers over his shoulder, heads turn as they pass, pointing towards them from below.

He was right, the buildings are magnificent, they pass over a few of them, they land in front of a large building, two large wooden doors stand open. They land before them, she hops down from his back when he tells her two, peering out from behind his arm to look inside, there's a lot of beds, some of them have sleeping people in them, there's others walking through the beds, tending to them as they sleep. "This is the Infirmary, we live upstairs, work downstairs."

"It's _huge_, angel doctor!"

Akriel chuckles softly, motioning her forward, stepping forward as though he knows she's going to follow, she does, just as he expected. She walks at his side, eyes wide, taking in their surroundings as they pass through the center row. Others turn to watch them pass, whispering between each other, Akriel nods at them and they silently return to what they were doing. "It has to be, we're big people."

"You're a fucking giant!"

"I prefer the term _'tall'_" He waves for her to take the stairs they come to rest before and she nods, taking the first step, sparing a glance over her shoulder to make sure he follows, and feels a semblance of comfort when he steps up behind her. "Obviously, living here, there are going to be some rules, first rule, no swearing."

She nods, cresting the final stair, coming into a large open room. It's covered in rugs and pillows and large bench like couches, there's a fire place along the far wall, to the right is obviously the kitchen, and beyond that is a hallway.

Akriel leads them down the hallway to a room.

There's two beds, two wardrobes, a desk under the window, and a dark fireplace along the far wall. She freezes in the doorway as eyes turn to stare at her, Jaleel glares hotly, stepping back a step, two large warm hands curl over her shoulders and she looks up.

The angel smiles down at her. "That's Orion, the one sleeping next to her is Gzel, they're alright. The farthest thing from pretenders one could be." He squeezes her shoulders and steps them forward, tugging at the straps of her backpack until she shrugs it off into his grasp, he guides her forward, to stand before the empty bed. He waves at the other girl in the second bed, Orion, he said her name was, waves back, looking back over to her. "Ak, who's that?"

"That's Jaleel, Rio, she's going to be staying with us."

Orion stares at her a minute, and she stares back, then shrugs. "Okay." Cuddling down into her pillow, she turns away from them, curling onto her side.

Akriel shakes his head fondly, setting the backpack down on his desk, and turns to fish into his wardrobe for a clean tunic. Jaleel takes it when he holds it out to her, it's soft to the touch, and huge. She looks up at him as he fishes out another tunic and a pair of trousers, kicking his boots off. "Get changed for bed, I'll change in my brothers room to give you privacy," he gestures to the empty bed. "This is our bed, you pick which side you want and climb in, it's bedtime."

"A bedtime?"

He nods. "A bedtime."

Sighing, the teenager nods. "Okay."

He smiles at her, patting her head as he steps passed her, turning the corner.

Jaleel eyes the other two girls sleeping in the second bed, and toes her sneakers off, pushing them away with her left foot, pulling her jacket off and her t'shirt over her head, she pulls the large tunic on, and shimmies out of her skinny jeans. Turning to the empty bed, she weighs the pros and cons of both sides, and eventually comes to climb into the right side, nearest the bedside table.

The angel returns a moment later, peering around the corner, as though to make sure she was decent, and smiles when he sees her in bed. He crosses into the room, cracking the door behind him, and climbs into the other side of the bed. "We'll go to the Market in the morning to get what we need." He reaches over her for the oil lamp on the bedside table, turning the dial, the flame dims into a soft glowing ember. "You sleep well, if you need me, just wake me up, okay?"

The teenager nods. "Okay."

She sees him smile, even in the darkness, she knows he's smiling, and feels the bed move as he turns over onto his side and settles down, soft snoring filling the room minutes later.

Jaleel lays against her pillow, listening to the new sounds, the soft breathing coming from the bed next to her, the gentle snoring on her left, and she smiles softly.

"Thanks, Ak."

He inhales deeply. "You're welcome, Leel."


	149. Making It Home

She's awoken the next morning early, the sun hasn't risen yet, the stars still shine in the night sky, when she looks out the window. The bed moves gently and she knows its because he's standing up, getting out of bed, she watches him stretch, walking across the room for his wardrobe, opening the door near silently, reaching in for a clean tunic, its dark green, and he slips it over his head silently, reaches back in for a pair of trousers, and slips them on with ease, tying them in place, and reaches back in for a thick leather belt, winding it around his waist, he looks down as he does the buckle, two holes in, threading the excess through the hoop, he reaches down for a pair of long socks, moving over to sit in the desk chair as he pulls them on, his boots following soon after. He grabs one more thing from his wardrobe, a dark vest, and slips it over his shoulders, leaving it hanging open, the neck of his tunic hanging open slightly, he runs a brush through his medium length hair, rubs at his chin lightly, and turns.

Their eyes meet and he smiles, crossing over to stand next to her, she sits up slightly, unsure as to what he's doing so early.

"My shift starts early in the morning and ends at about three in the afternoon." He pushes her down gently, back against the pillow, and she stares up at him with wide eyes. It hadn't been a dream after all, she'd seriously met her Guardian angel, he was standing beside her, and he had taken her back to his home in Heaven, she was sleeping in a bed that wasn't in a ward, in a long large shirt that wasn't hers but offered some sense of comfort in the fact that it smelled like him. It had all been real. "You sleep for a bit longer, it's still early, you don't have to wake up at the crack of dawn here, sleep as much as you want to." Jaleel nods silently, curling back down against the pillow. "Oren will make breakfast when he wakes up, Gzel and Orion will show you around later when you all wake up, and then make their way down to the Infirmary below. You can stay here or come down with them if you want." The teenager nods again, her eyes fluttering softly, and she manages to see him smile again, a large hand reaches out tentatively, and brushes her dreads from her cheek, stroking the backs of his fingers over her cheek gently. It's a gentle touch, tender, loving even, and she's not used to it. She's not used to these kind things, someone being nice because they believe in genuinely being nice, someone caring because they actually care, not pretending to. She knows that Akriel cares for her, genuinely, he's not pretending. He's not fake. He's been real since they'd met. "Sleep tight, baby girl." Her eyes slide closed at the gentle touch on her cheek, and her breathing evens out, falling back into slumber.

Akriel smiles at her, spares his other girls a glance, and turns, heading for the door. He spares the three of them one last look over his shoulder as he opens his door, stepping out into the hall, cracking it behind him as he makes his leave.

She wakes a few hours later, the sunlight lighting the room up, and she jumps up when her eyes come to land on the dark-haired girl standing next to her, staring down at her, Orion's behind her, some paces away, getting dressed.

"Who are you?"

Her tone isn't mean, its more curious then anything, with a hint of firmness behind it. She tilts her head to the side, staring down at her with slightly narrows eyes.

"Jaleel." She tilts her head and eyes her over. "Who are you?"

"Gzel." She points to herself. "What are you doing here?"

"Angel doc—Ak brought me here."

"Why?" She gets eyed in return. "Your _human_."

"So," Jaleel turns out of the bed. "Is that a problem?"

"Why'd he bring a human here?"

Orion turns, tugging on her sleeve, trying to stave off an altercation, lest they make Akriel upset by fighting. "G, Ak is her Guardian."

She turns to look at her sister. "He is? Since when is Ak a Guardian angel?" Orion leaned forward, curling her fingers slightly around her mouth, and whispered in the other girls ear, Gzel nodded, her eyes widening slightly, before shrugging. "Okay," she turns to the other teenager. "Welcome, I guess, you can borrow my clothes until you get your own."

The human teenager nods. "Thanks." And stands from the bedside. "Ak said you'd show me around." Gzel and Orion exchange looks, nodding in unison, Orion digs into their wardrobe, pulling out a pair of Gzel's trousers and a light red tunic. They turn around as she dresses, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable, just because they were okay changing in front of each other didn't mean that the new girl was. They eye her carefully, noting her lack of covering in the shoe department, Gzel shrugs lightly. "I only have one pair of boots." She shoes them her right foot. "And, I'm not sharing them."

Jaleel shakes her head, stepping through them to her things, her clothes had been folded and set on the edge of the desk, and reaches for her sneakers. "I have shoes."

She slips them on, tucking the laces inside, and sits back up again.

Orion curls her hand around her mouth and Gzel shrugs again. "Works for me." She turns for the door. "Come on, Oren's going to be finishing breakfast at this point." The other girls follow after her, Jaleel turns to the one at her side. "Oren?" Orion looks over at her and nods. "One of Akriel's brothers. Don't tell him I said so, but Oren makes better eggs then he does." They walk down the hall together, Gzel hops forward, reaching under the man's arm for something, jumping back with a pilfered piece of bacon, laughing as he turns to swat at her as she dances out of reach. "Gzel!"

"Thanks, Oren." She swipes her bowl of eggs off the counter and munches on her piece of bacon. He shakes his head and turns, setting a few pieces of bacon in the second bowl, turning to hold it out to Orion. "Here, Rio-hello." His eyes widen when they find her. Jaleel waves slightly. "You're the one Ak told us about, Jaleel, right?"

The teenager nods lightly. "Right."

"Well," he reaches to his other side for another bowl, scoops some eggs into it, and tops it off with a few pieces of bacon. "I'm Oren, you can call me Ori if you'd like," he holds the bowl out to her and she takes it hesitantly. "Welcome to the family, kiddo." She nods silently. "Thanks." Following Gzel to the table, sitting across from her, tentatively taking a bite of the bacon, then the eggs, and she hums softly at the taste, taking another bite. "Good, isn't it?" Orion slides in beside her, and she nods, munching on a bite of eggs.

They eat their eggs quickly, moving on to their bacon, and wash it all down with glasses of orange juice. Thanking Oren, they make their way to the stairs, she follows the others down to the floor below them, stopping in awe at the bustling Infirmary. Angels bustle about tending to things, tending to patients in beds, files and pouring water, tending to things that need tending to. It's like the hospitals on Earth, the ones she's walked through to get to her Ward, but this one is colorful, it doesn't smell like antiseptic and sick people.

"Come on," Orion tugs on her arm, Gzel leads them forward, and she stumbles forward, following after them. "Ak's this way."

They pass by rows of beds, angels turn to look at them as they pass before returning to their doings, she spots him as they approach. He's pulled his hair down from the bun on top of his head, it brushes down over his shoulders, leaning over a desk as he scribbles something in a file, she recognizes the next movement of him signing it, and he closes the file, handing it back to the angel standing at his side. They scurry off and he turns to them, their eyes meet, and he smiles as he stands to meet them half way.

"Good morning, girls." He hugs Gzel and Orion, pausing before Jaleel, unsure if she would want one or not. The teenager takes a tentative step forward, wrapping her arms around his middle, she doesn't see him smile again, but she feels his arms circle around her. "Did you sleep well?"

All three girls nod, as Jaleel steps back, taking her spot beside Orion back.

Akriel smiles at them again, nodding to the older two girls. "Rio, G, you should go tend to your chores." They both huff, but nod, leaving her alone with him. The angel doctor smiles down at her, gesturing for her to follow him, and he leads her back to his desk, motioning for her to sit in the chair at the side. "Let's talk."

Jaleel rubs her arm, flopping down in the chair languidly. "I don't _talk _to doctors."

"I know you don't, but we made a deal, remember." He leans back in his own chair. "Besides, I'm not here as a doctor, I'm here as your Guardian, you never said you wouldn't talk to your Guardian angel."

The teenager stares at him for a long hard minute, stares at his kind eyes and that small little smug smirk as he calls her on her loophole, and blinks as she turns to glare at him, pointing a slim finger at him from her seat, as she pulls her foot up to curl under her on the chair, leaning against the side of the desk. "That's sneaky."

"I wouldn't have gotten this far if I wasn't a bit sneaky."

They stare at each other, until she looks down to the desktop. "I don't know what to talk about. I've never done this before."

"That's alright," he reaches out to brush her cheek lightly. "We can talk about anything you want."

"Like what?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. That's up for you to decide. I can tell you what _I'd _like to talk about."

"No, no," she shakes her head. "I'll think of something." He nods, waiting patiently for her to make up her mind, and part of her wonders if she can out wait him, she'd sat with a doctor for an entire hour in silence once, it aggravated him to no end, he left her alone about talking after that, Akriel crosses his arms loosely, as though reading her mind, and raises an eyebrow at her. "Uummm, okay, okay, let me think." She holds up her hand. "I know, I know." She turns to look at him more fully. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Easy, because you needed a home. Not a shelter, not a temporary home, a real life, actual home." He nods. "The humans have failed you, so it's our turn now, I won't fail you like they did."

"Why do you care?"

"Because, I have a heart. A heart that's in the right place. As a doctor, it's my job to help others. As your Guardian angel, it's my job to help you."

Jaleel finds that she likes talking to Akriel. He doesn't push and he doesn't pry, he lets her decide what they talk about, and doesn't try to change the subject to something he'd rather talk about instead. He just sits there and listens to her ramble, answering the questions she throws his way. It's the first time she actually talked to a doctor and enjoyed it, the first time she's actually _talked _to a doctor in general, and there's not an ounce of pretending to be found. The emotion in his responses is real, she can read into it that much, his care is real, he really cares when he responds to her. And, he answers them all truthfully, with as much honest conviction as he can muster when he thinks over his responses, he doesn't just say what she wants to hear, he says the truth.

Like when she asked him again if he thought she was broken, he said the same thing he had said before, that he doesn't believe in broken people, there are bent people, but not broken people. He said that he did think there was some things that she had to work through, and motioned to her arms, where she knew he knew her scars were, and that he had absolute faith in that she could overcome it and come out stronger.

By the time he says they're done talking, or that they can be done, she feels different. She feels lighter, like someone's finally heard her, that someone's finally acknowledged that she has feelings and hopes and dreams and desires and likes and dislikes. That she's real and she's there and she exists. She hasn't felt like that since she'd run away from her mom and step dad's house

"See, that wasn't so hard." He leans forward. "We've been talking for an hour."

"It's been an _hour_!"

"It has," the angel nods, rubbing his hands together lightly. "And, it's three o'clock, meaning my shift is over, also meaning we can go get you what you need now."

Jaleel makes a face. "We're going _shopping_?"

"We have to."

"But that's _boring_!"

Akriel shrugs, leaning against his desk. "Well, I thought we'd go to an art supply store first, get some paints and colored pencils and canvases, but if you don't want to, we don't have to."

She stares at him. "You'd get me all that?"

"I would. All the art supplies your little heart desires." He waves a few fingers. "But, if you don't want to go, that's fine too, we don't have to."

"No, no!" She jumps from her chair; Jaleel reaches for his arm to tug on excitedly. "No, I want to go!"

The angel chuckles softly, letting her pull him to his feet. "Alright, alright, we can go, calm down." He motions for her to step forward, and she does, looking over her shoulder periodically to make sure he was following, he curled his right hand over her shoulder to assure her that he was there, behind her, and she looked forward, letting him guide her forward towards the entrance of the Infirmary. "We'll get you somethings from Earth first, and then go to our Bazaar to get what you'll need up here, we'll get something to eat while we're on Earth, because I don't know about you, but I'm famished."

"What about money?"

"I'm an angel." He comes to stand beside her once they exit the Infirmary, making their way down the stairs slowly, and spares her a smile as he watches his footing and the steps go by one after another. "Money has no meaning to me. I can have as much of it as I want with a mere thought." He tugs lightly on a dread. "So, there's no expense to spare, no limit, you want it, you can have it." He hums softly, in thought. "There are certain restrictions though, obviously, like no alcohol, nothing that could harm you, we don't do cell phones up here either, so no cell phone."

Jaleel looks up at him. "Can I get an Ipod, I like listening to music."

He nods. "Yes, you can get an Ipod. We have internet here, we may still look to be stuck in the medieval times, but we're not living in the dark ages. The human's side of Heaven is typically the only side that uses it. But we have internet and electricity." He brushes her dreads over her shoulder gently. "I can make you an outlet to charge your Ipod."

She turns to stare up at him. "You have _internet _here?"

"Girl, it's the twenty-first century. There's not a single place, including Heaven, that doesn't have internet."

"But…..You use oil lamps and stuff!"

"Just because we're comfortable in a certain way doesn't mean we don't stay up with the times. The same can be said for the other _'paradises' _and the Ancient City. Anubis, the god of the dead, has a tablet to play games." He winks down at her mystified look. "Don't tell him I said anything, he'd deny it anyway, but he's addicted to Candy Crush and online Poker."

"The Egyptian God, that _Anubis_?"

"Yes, him, he comes around quite a bit, he's good friends with Raph."

"Raph as in—"

"Raphael? The Archangel Raphael?" He nods, chuckling at her shock, she was living in Heaven, and that's what shocked her. It's amusing, immensely amusing. "Yes, you'll meet him too, we live above his Infirmary. He built the entire place but left it up to use to design our own rooms."

"Can I get a tablet too?" She steps down the last stair, and they make their way up the Axis towards the gates. "I like looking for inspiration for my art."

"Sure, we'll get what we need." He assures her, as they begin the claim up the small staircase to the gates. "If you see something you want, then grab it, like I said, there's no monetary limit. You can have anything your little heart desires."

"Thanks, angel doctor."

He smiles at the name, nodding his head, as they come to stand just beyond the gates. "No problem." Jaleel looks over the edge timidly, her eyes attracted to the flowing of the rainbow hue, it rippled like water in a creek.

"We have to get down the same way we came up." Akriel hums lightly. "Before we go though, we have to fit in." He touches a hand to his chest, and his appearance changes, his tunic sleeves shrinking in length, the collar rising into a Vee neck, the vest grew in size, back into the leather jacket he had worn when they had first met. He sighed, pulling his hair up and out from under the collar of his t'shirt and jacket. The fabric of his trousers changed in texture, growing into a pair of dark jeans, the length of his boots changing, shrinking, back into ankle boots. Nodding in approval, he turned to look at the teenager next to him, shaking his head lightly. "You, too." He reaches out, pressing his fingertips to her forehead, and she looks down, watching as her borrowed clothes change in appearance as well. Her tunic and trousers combined into one, the legs of the trousers splitting, coming together up the middle and up the back, forming a skirt around her waist. A black dress. A design swirls into place, sunflowers, a black dress with sunflowers. Her high tops don't change. They stay the same. Akriel smiles in approval. "Better."

The teenager rubs her hands down her middle, looking down at herself, turning to the side to see behind, and shrugs, looking back up at him. "Thanks. It's nice."

"You're welcome." He rolls his shoulders, manifesting his wings once more, stretching them out widely before curling them behind his shoulders. Turning, the angel crouches, gesturing her forward from over his shoulder. "Climb on."

Stepping forward, Jaleel curls her hands over his shoulders, curling her right leg around his waist, his fingers curl under her knee to hold her up, reaching back for the left, and she settles against his back easily as he stands back to his full height. She looks down, peering over his shoulder, watching as he walks them closer to the edge. He turns his head slightly, his beard rubs against her cheek softly, as his grip tightens on her. "Ready?"

The human girl nods, tucking her head against the side of his neck, as he looks forward again. He pulls his wings in close, smiles slightly, and falls forward over the edge. Jaleel screams at the sudden drop, her grip tightening around his neck and his waist, he squeezes her thighs gently, letting them free fall through the barrier, before opening his wings wide, catching them in their descent, he flaps his wings in three great swoops and they fall steady, hovering midair, and he laughs. "I think I'm deaf in my right ear now."

"That wasn't funny!"

"It was kind of funny."

"You're a jerk, angel doctor."

"No, I'm nice." He chuckles softly, looking down at the Earth below them, it's faint, a mix of blurred colors. "I could have tossed you over the edge. But I let you climb on instead."

"You wouldn't have."

"I could still drop you."

Her grip tightens. "Don't you dare."

"I don't know, that's what a jerk would do, and you said I'm a jerk."

"You're not a jerk!" She rests her chin on his shoulder. "Please don't drop me."

"Fine, I won't." He smirks slightly. "Not this time, at least." He tucks his wings in again, and dives them forward, and they free fall for a bit before he catches them again, making their descent smoother and slower. "I dropped my son a few times, it's greatly amusing, every time."

She sniffs softly. "That's not nice."

"No, perhaps not, but it's entertaining."

They land in an alley, he crouches slightly for her to jump down from his back, and she comes to stand at his side as he rolls his shoulders again, tucking his wings back, until they disappear from sight. He turns to look down at her. "Hungry?"

Jaleel nods, rubbing her stomach as it rumbles, as though to answer his question for itself. Her Guardian angel chuckles softly, gesturing her forward, and they walk down the alley to the street it interjects from. Turning down the sidewalk. "Let's go get something to eat." They come to a curbside restaurant, letting the waiter guide them to their table, and look over the menu. She gets a tuna melt and some fries with water as her drink, he gets tuna melt and some chips, a coke as his drink. They eat in silence, too busy enjoying their food to speak, and finish in no time, humming in favor. Akriel and her leave once they're done, he tosses two twenties on the table, and guides out of the curbside seating with a hand on the small of her back.

They walk down the street to a Michael's art supply store, and he turns them inside, she looks around in awe at all the art supplies, for different types of projects, as the angel gets them a cart. "Lets look around," he leans forward against the bar of the cart. "If you see something you like, put it in the cart."

Jaleel looks over to him. "Anything?"

"Anything."

They walk down the first aisle together, looking over the different types of shading pencils, she points to a small four pack, and looks over to the angel at her side. He nods, looking over to the right a bit. "Get the big pack."

"But that's almost twenty dollars."

"And, I told you, money is no problem. Get the big pack."

The teenager smiles slightly and reaches for the value pack of shading pencils, a pencil sharpener, and a pack of different erasers. She sets them in the cart with a small smile. In the same isle they come to the colored pencils. There's another big pack, full of all assortments of shades, she turns to look at her Guardian again and he nods, nodding to the cart. Smiling again, she pulls off two packs, she goes through colored pencils like it's nobodies business, and sets them in the cart. He watches her smile, its small and shy, but it's happy, as they walk through the different isles, she looks to him a few times when she comes across something she wants, and he nods every time, until she just begins putting her findings in the cart on her own, without looking back for permission. She gets two new journals, canvases of different sizes, a bunch of different paints and an assortment of brushes, a table top easel, and a small bowl to clean the brushes in. She also gets a bag of chocolate covered pretzels, because they're her favorite, and she hasn't gotten to have them in as long as she can remember.

They make it to the check out with a half full cart, she smiles as she puts her things up on the counter for the cashier to scan up, and steps down to the end, where the cashier bags her things, and collects the bags to put back in the cart, Akriel pushes the cart up closer to her, standing up from where he's leaning against the handle bar, reaching into his back pocket for a wallet, she didn't even know he had one, he never ceased to surprise her. There's nearly a dozen bags, and she smiles as she looks down at them, full of art supplies, and it's all for her. He watches her smile, as he waits for the cashier to finish, and it brings a smile to his face, it's good to see her happy like this. He pays the cashier when they're done, looking over as Jaleel puts the final two bags into the cart, taking the receipt that's held out to him.

The two of them walk out to the parking lot, it's sparse, and come to stand just outside the doors. Akriel looks from one side of the parking lot to the other, and waves his hand over the cart full of bags, the teenager watches as the blink out of existence and turns back to her Guardian. "I sent them along. They'll be on your desk."

She tilts her head. "My desk?"

He nods. "Your desk. I had two of my brothers, Constantine and Ephraim, put another desk in our room for you to use."

"Cool!" She hugs him softly, a quick hug, he curls his arms around her for a brief moment, before she jumps back. "Thanks, Ak."

"Of course, Leel." He pushes the cart to the side, and steps forward, curling his arm around her shoulders, she's a bit more comfortable, pressing into his side. "There's an electronics store down the street, lets stop there first, and then we'll head home."

He's right, there's a Best Buy down the street, and they stop in, for a tablet and an Ipod. She gets both, the latest and greatest, and accessories, headphones, a protective case for both of them. He sends those bags along in the similar fashion he sent the ones before them, and they wander back down the street, side by side, bantering softly between each other, back for the alley they'd arrived in. This time, when he crouches for her, she takes him by surprise, by circling around to his front, curling her arms around his neck, he chuckles softly as he stands, lifting her from her feet, and her legs curl around his waist. He kneels slightly, opening his wings, and pushes off into the sky above. As they reach a steady pace, she pulls away from hiding against his neck, and smiles at him. "Thanks for getting me all this stuff."

"We're not done yet, baby girl, we've still got to get you clothes."

"Can I still wear your shirt to sleep in?"

He nods, kissing her nose lightly. "Of course, you can."

"Thanks, Ak." She smiles at him, it's a bright smile, one of those rare smiles, he'd never seen this kind of smile from her before and he cherishes it, vowing to get it to as a more regular occurrence. She turns to the side, resting her head on his shoulder, his beard rubs against her cheek, as he presses a kiss under her ear. "You're very welcome."

They still had some things to work through, but they'd get there, he refused to fail her like all others had.


	150. Numbing The Mind

Its when the warriors come back from a rather harsh mission, that it happens, that he becomes overwhelmed. It's just too much, there's too much emotion swirling around, it's becoming like a thick cloud overcoming him, surrounding him and drowning out the world around him. He retreats, his fingers curled through his hair, clutching at his head, trying to fight off the surrounding darkness from overcoming his senses, he whimpers softly and curls inwards, trying to hide away from the world around him, to get out of the line of fire, to get everything to calm down.

But it doesn't. It gets worse. It gets more potent, and he whimpers again as he squeezes his eyes closed. He just wants it to stop, he wants it all to stop, just _stop_.

He starts when something warm touches his face, peeking out slightly to see what it was, he's met with his older brother's eyes. Being the second in command for the Infirmary, there were certain privileges that Oren had that others did not, he could do more then others could when it comes to certain things, that any other healer would need to ask permission to do.

He watches the older Virtues lips move, he's speaking, but his mind is too worked up to comprehend what's being said. He knows he's saying words but he doesn't know what words are being said. Oren seems to understand, curling his fingers around his cheeks, he pulls him closer, whispering into his ear softly. "I'm going to numb your mind." That's one of the things that Oren can do without permission, even Akriel, their resident Mental Specialist, had to ask permission to use that particular skill. Ephraim nods, squinting his eyes, anything, he'd do anything to get it to stop.

The older angels grace is warm, it tingles slightly, as it overcomes him, drowning out everything but sweet welcoming numb calmness.

The younger angel sags in relief, sighing softly at the peace that's over come him, Oren rubs his thumbs under his eyes. "Come on." He nods, letting himself be pulled forward, back to the back of the Infirmary, down the hall towards the washroom. Oren kicks his boots off, and kneels to pull his free, he steps out of his boots silently, and lets his brother walk him forward into the warm water. They forget about their clothes for the time being, sitting in the water, Oren sits first, pulling him down, laying him down in the warm water, his head cushioned on his lap. The warm water soothes his tense muscles, and fingers rub small circles over his forehead, soothing away the headache that had been forming even with the numbing calm that had been forced over his mind.

Ephraim blinks up at him, his older brother smiles down at him, rubbing his thumbs over his temple.

"What about the others?"

"They can take care of them." He massages the sides of his head tenderly. "I'm here to take care of you." Ephraim sighs contentedly. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't want to be a burden."

"Eph, you're my baby brother," he stills his fingers for a moment, and those bright eyes turn back up to him. "You could never be a burden."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I understand." He starts rubbing again. "Next time, just tell me, so I can help."

"I will." He looks down, tilting his head slightly, to see his soaked form. "We're all wet."

"Ak's getting us a change of clothes."

Ephraim nods, closing his eyes softly, sighing out in content. His older brother always knows how to make his headaches feel better again. Oren's fingers work down to his neck, and then down to his shoulders, rubbing away the tension tenderly.

He feels like he's drifting, only half awake, going through the motions when Oren helps him to his feet, practically carrying him to the shore again, as him and Akriel help him change into dry clothing, and he lays his head on his older brother's shoulder when he sweeps him off his feet, cradling him in his arms.

"Are you sleepy now, Ephi?"

The younger angel nods languidly. "Mmhmmm."

"Is this your doing?" Akriel turns his head slightly, looking him in the eye, watching them react languidly to the different shades of light. "He's pretty out of it."

"Yea, he was having a hard time. I just calmed everything down."

"Well, he's in good hands." The Mental Specialist takes a step back. "Call if you need anything."

"We will," Oren looks down at his younger brother, his eyes half lidded, completely tranquil. "Let's go take a nap, Ephi."

He barely nods, dozing off against his shoulder, and they two older Virtues exchange an amused smile. Oren carries him from the wash room, up the stairs, and down the hall to his room. He sets the young Virtue down on his bed, pulling his blankets up and over him, smiling when he cuddles down in his pillow. He steps away for a brief moment, and a weak hand reaches out to him, fingers flexing demandingly. "Ori, come back."

"Hang on, baby brother." He closes his door and turns, returning to the bed, he climbs over his baby brothers prone form, tugging him closer as he settles down on his side. Ephraim smiles, nuzzling closer to his older brother. "Ori, will you rub my head?"

The older angel chuckles lightly, threading his fingers into his hair, rubbing at his scalp lightly. "Sure, baby brother, anything for you."


	151. At Least Eight Hours

"They've been running nonstop for nearly three days." The three oldest Virtues watched their youngest closely, though they'd been running for the last three days, they hadn't given any signs of needed to slow down, but they're movements had become a bit more sluggish, exhaustion fighting for control, and they were putting up a valiant fight against it. "Does anyone know why?"

The others shake their heads, watching them tend to their patients silently, unknowing that they were being watched.

Oren hums, watching his younger brother go about his duties, unstopped, for the last three days. His arms are crossed, he's leaning back against Zed's work station, eyes tracking the younger Virtues every move, tapping his fingers against his upper arm rhythmically. "Well, enough is enough." He uncrosses his arms, turning slightly to the side, reaching behind him for one of the many sleeping drought vials on their Apothecary's workbench. He passes one to his brother next to him, Akriel takes it with a raised eyebrow, Oren takes another one, one of his own. "I'll take Ephraim, you take Constantine."

Akriel nods, stepping off in sync with their Captain, and they both cross to their respective baby brother's side.

He curls his fingers around the Empath's upper arm, pulling him around, holding out the vial to him. "Here, drink this, it'll help wake you up." Ephraim thanks him softly, taking the vial that's offered to him, and downs it in one gulp, humming softly at the taste, reaching over to set the vial down on his desk. He shakes his head, frowning in confusion as his mind begins to fuzz out, clouding over steadily, more and more. He turns to look at his older brother, stumbling slightly as he does, his Captain catches him as he wobbles on his feet. "What did you just give me?"

Oren catches him as he sways to the side, helping him to the empty bed just a few paces away, sitting him down on the edge and slowly guiding him around to lay against he pillows. "A sleeping drought."

He looks up at his older brother with wide eyes, betrayal etched over his features. "You said—"

"I lied." He moves to the foot of the bed, unlacing his boots quickly, tugging them off his feet and then pulling his socks off, he doesn't like sleeping with his feet covered in anything but a blanket. "You are never going to go through three full days without an ounce of sleep again," he sits on the edge of the bed, brushing his curls back. "Do you understand me?"

"But—"

"That's an _order_."

Ephraim nods lightly, biting his lower lips, that was an order as both his Captain and his older brother, if he ever defied it, there would be consequences. Dire, dire consequences. Oren smiles down at him, knowing his point was made, his command was going to be heeded by the younger Virtue, and rubs his curls back again, scratching lightly at his scalp, knowing how much he liked having his head scratched. "Why would you do this?"

"I didn't want to sleep."

His older brother tilts his head lightly. "Why not?"

The younger angel shrugs lightly, averting his eyes from his older brother's, knowing that he could get him to spill everything with a few gentle touches and a certain kind of gaze. He didn't want to admit his weakness to his older brother, he was a grown angel, a Virtue, he shouldn't be affected by things so trivial.

Fingers rub soothing circles over his forehead. "You'll have to tell me eventually." He hums softly. "I'm not letting you go back to work until you do."

Ephraim sighs, nodding his head slightly, still refusing to meet his older brother's eyes.

"Hey," a finger gently presses under his chin, tilting his head back up, and he's forced to meet his older brothers gaze. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" He rubs his cheek with his thumb. "Anything at all."

The younger Virtue licks his lips, feeling guilty for making his older brother worry like he was, noting the concern in his gaze almost immediately. "I've been having dreams."

"Bad dreams?"

He nods. "Nightmares."

"Oh, Ephi," he rubs his cheek with his thumb gently. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Ephraim shrugs again. "I thought I could handle it on my own."

"Oh, you handled it, alright." He brushes his fingers through his curls, rubbing at his head gently. "Next time, just tell me, I can't help if I don't know you need help."

"I'm sorry, Ori."

"It's okay, I understand," fingers scratch behind his ear lightly and he leans into the touch. "You stay in this bed for the next day, at least." He pokes him in the chest lightly. "Don't think I won't cuff you to it either, mister, I know how you are when it comes to bedrest." That gains him a slight smile and he takes it all the same, counting it as progress, he turns to peer over his shoulder at the other pair.

Akriel's managed to get Constantine in a bed of his own, his eyes fluttering, as he leans against the Mental Specialist, who's fingers are rubbing through his blonde hair lightly. He turns back to his own charge, smiling down to the younger angel. "Do you want me to lay down with you?"

Ephraim nods meekly, scooting over slightly, for his older brother to slide in beside him, after kicking his boots off, and curls up against him when he raises his arm for him to slip under, tucking under his chin, pressing his ear to his chest, listening to the beat of his heart and the thrum of his grace. Fingers scratch at the back of his head gently, between his curls, and he sighs contentedly, nuzzling closer, rubbing his cheek against his brother's tunic. A bearded chin rubs against his forehead lightly. "Get some sleep, little Ephi, I'll watch over you."

He yawns, nuzzling closer. "You won't go anywhere?"

"Not until you're rested." He kisses his forehead gently. "I won't go anywhere."

"You're a good big brother, Ori."

"You're an amazing baby brother, Ephi." His older brother rubs his fingers over his forehead. "Less talking, more sleeping, Ephi."

"Okay, Ori." He closes his eyes, nuzzling closer. "I love you."

"I love you, too."


	152. Mending The Mind

Aeshma smiled at him in greeting as she opened the grand door for him, allowing him entrance into his Prison, he returned the smile, stepping into the dim entry way, greeting Temeluch as the door was closed behind him. Temeluch greeted him in kind, softly, a whisper under the loud complaints coming from down the hall, through the opened door at the end of the hall. He left him standing at his position as he stepped down the hall for the cell of the prisoner he'd come to see.

He'd had some suspicions when it came to this particular prisoner, he'd raised them himself, he had most certainly not raised them to be what they had turned into, that was without doubt.

The angel in the cell was curled up on the stone cot, the thin mattress, curled in the thin blanket they were given, staring at the stone wall across from him. Shoulder length hair a mess, it needed brushed something bad, there were knots the size of quarters littered throughout, the prisoner was dirty, needing bathed something fierce, which was an odd occurrence, the prisoners were taken to the washroom once every other day to clean up. The simple white tunic hung on his thin frame, he'd lost weight since he'd been put in this cell for isolation, and he hummed, he'd get to the bottom of this matter, prove his wonderings to be wrong and continue on his way.

Maybe.

He clears his throat to get the other angels attention, and his head turns quickly, eyes shooting from the wall to the bars of his cell. His eyes widen I surprise, jumping up from his cot, nearly tripping over the blanket wrapping around his ankles. He rushes the bars, reaching through, and the other takes a step back out of his reach. "Nis! Nis, are you still mad at me?"

"Mad at you?"

"I've been asking to see you, but you never come, I thought you were mad at me still, I remember you being really mad."

Nisroc examines the angel before him closely, narrowing his eyes slightly, stepping forward again for the younger angel's benefit, he curls his fingers into his tunic and clutches on tightly. "Why would I be mad at you, Thaddeus?"

The old Prison Warden stares at him with wide eyes, shaking his head softly. "I…I don't know."

"You don't know?" He frowns lightly when the younger angel shakes his head. "What do you remember, Thad?"

Thaddeus stares off slightly, getting lost in thought, and shakes his head. "Naomi…. She wanted to see me…And then there was a bright light and it hurt…And then you were mad at me….You were really mad at me….and then it hurt again….." He cringes slightly, looking back up to the older angel, to the one whom had raised him, who had never steered him wrong. "Nis, Nis what's going on? Why am I here? I don't want to be here, it's dark and scary and there's no one to talk to, please get me out." He tugs desperately on the front of his tunic. "Please get me out Nis. I don't like it here."

He reaches through the bars of the cell, caressing the younger angel's cheek lightly. "Thad, I need you to think really hard for me," the younger angel nods. "What's the last thing you do remember?"

"Umm…" Thaddeus makes a face, thinking hard, his eyes clouding over slightly. "We were on the verge of war. The Morningstar had just betrayed us. Father was gone. And then….Then Naomi…And then….Then everything gets really fuzzy…Everything's really fuzzy….I can't remember….I can't remember _a lot_." He reaches up with his other hand, his fingers curling around the new Warden's wrist tightly, his tone taking on a desperate edge. "Please, Nis, please get me out. I don't know what I did, but I'm sorry, I'm really _really _sorry. I swear I won't do it again, Nis, I swear on my name, I won't! Please don't make me stay here anymore! I don't like it in here! It's scary! Please don't make me stay!"

"Thad, the last thing you remember is The Fall?"

The younger angel nods frantically, he doesn't understand why he's being asked these questions, he recalls seeing the Morningstar again, later, but not much after that, he can't recall a lot of things, everything's too fuzzy. All he does know is that he doesn't like it here, Nis was mad at him, and no one will talk to him. He watches closely as his old guardian reaches for the keys he has attacked to his belt, inhaling deeply when he selects one, and places it in the keyhole of his cell, undoing the lock, and opens the door up. He rushes forward, before the Power Captain can do anything, and collides into him, curling around him tightly, hanging on desperately.

"I'm sorry, Nis, for whatever I did! Please take me with you! Please don't leave me here! I don't want to be here anymore!"

"It's okay," warm arms curl around him tightly, pressing him close, a large warm hand curls around the back of is greasy head. "We're going to go see the Healer, alright?"

"Why?" He presses closer. "Is someone hurt?"

"That's what we're going to find out."

…

"Oh, yes, his mind is a mess." The Healer has his fingers pressed to the old Warden's head, the younger angel staring up at the Archangel in wonder, clutching to his old guardian's hand. "She truly did a number. It doesn't come as a surprise to me that he doesn't remember much of anything." He pulls his hands away, wiping them on his tunic lightly, turning for a jar on the cart next to them, pulling out a sweet, he passes it to the younger angel. Thaddeus is completely captivated by it, licking it experimentally, and smiling at the taste, his eyes brightening in delight, he plops the sweet into his mouth happily, sucking on it softly.

The Archangel smiles down at him, watching his actions, the way he reacted to a simple sweet. "I can fix his mind, to a certain degree, but it will take time. Too much all at once can be overwhelming and cause more damage than can be mended." He watches as the younger angel curls the Powers hand into his chest softly, suckling at his sweet contentedly, clearly happy to be in the presence of another being. "From his state, I'd say he's regressed a number, he hasn't bathed in some time, I'm honestly not quite sure he remembers how. I'm not exactly sure what he _does _remember."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, for the time being, until we can get everything patched up as much as we can, it would be best to think of him as being a fledgling again. He's going to need your help doing most tasks. Simply because his mind is so jumbled at the moment, he may not remember how to do them." He frowns lightly, eyeing the scruffy angel on the bed. "Cleaning up is most certainly one of those things, it would appear."

Nisroc nods, rubbing his thumb over the back of the hand clutching at his fingers, he would agree on that front. The young angel could most certainly do with a good scrubbing. "When can we begin?"

"I'd say it would be alright to begin tomorrow morning." Raphael rubs at his chin lightly, watching the young angel sit there between them as content as can be with his sweet. "It's still early in the day today, it'll give him time to settle down from being released, being back with someone he clearly trusts might be a bit overwhelming at first, but should calm down with time."

"You say he doesn't remember much, but," Nisroc rubs at his beard lightly with his free hand, guilt shining in his eyes as he peers down at the wounded young angel. "Do you think he'd remember what…That day….What I did….?"

The Healer sighs sadly. "There's no telling what he'll come to remember, so I can't say for sure, I know what transpired between you two, don't let it eat at you." He reaches out to squeeze the Power's shoulder. "If he remembers, then he remembers, and if he doesn't, then he doesn't. You just have to work around that possibility if it comes to pass." He gestures down to the younger angel between them. "He clearly doesn't remember the finer details of what happened, you said he remembered you being mad at him, but never made any inkling of knowing the finer details, even as to what you were mad at him for." He gestures then to the way he clutches at the older angel's hand. "He clearly still trusts you as well, or he wouldn't be hanging on to you like he is, he remembers you being angry with him, but not what it was for, nor what transpired between you two, he stills sees you as someone he can rely on to help him."

As if to prove his point, the younger angel tugs at the Captain's hand, showing him his sweet when he looks down at the call for his attention. Nisroc smiles down at him, brushing his bangs back with the fingers of his free hand, and nods. "I see that, you got a sweet because you were very brave."

Raphael smiles at them in fond amusement. "Like I said, I would treat him with the same gentleness you would treat a fledgling. Get him cleaned up and into something better to wear. Some food into his belly. I'd say it wouldn't steer you wrong to get him a bit of a nap. But," he holds up a finger. "Like a fledgling, he can't be alone, especially with his mind in the state it is and all that time in isolation. He may latch on to you, don't push him away, it'll cause more harm, take him with you where ever it is you go." He smiles down at the young Warden when he turns to look up at him, reaching out to pat his cheek lightly. "I'll talk to my brother about this. You just take care of this little guy, here."

Thaddeus smiles up at him, finishing his treat. "Thank you, for the sweet."

The Archangel smiles down at him, patting his cheek again. "You are most welcome."

…

Nisroc thought over the Healer's words as he walked Thaddeus across the Training Field, he could feel his brothers eyes on him, and he shook his head lightly, he knew they'd see it even where they stood around the Training Field, he'd tell them later, preferably when the younger angel was fast asleep, there was no secrets between them.

Thaddeus looked around in awe, waving to the other Powers when he saw them, he remembered them, they played with him when he was little, he doesn't remember much about it, but he remembers they had always been nice to him. They wave back, hesitantly, as though they were unsure as to what was going on. He frowns slightly, looking up to the older angel at his side. "Are the others mad at me, Nis?"

The Captain smiles down at him, rubbing his back soothingly. "No, they're not mad, Thad."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Okay." He goes back to looking around again, this place seems so familiar, he knows, Nis lives here, and he lived with Nis. "This place is so big, Nis."

"Isn't it?" He chuckles softly. "We're big angels."

"I'm small."

Nisroc chuckles again, nodding in amusement. "Yes, you most certainly are small."

He brushes his hand against the smooth stone as they walk up the stairs to the Pavilion above. He looks around with wide eyes. "I remember this place!"

"You do?"

"I lived here!"

The Power smiles at him again. "Yes, you did. And you'll live here, with me, for a long while, okay?"

"Okay, Nis." The young Warden nods slightly. "I like living with you."

"I'm glad to hear it." They stop at his room first, and he fishes a clean tunic out from his wardrobe for himself and the young angel he's caring for, a new set of trousers for himself, a towel off the shelf, and a scrub brush out of the drawer. Guiding the younger angel around, Nisroc walks him down the hall towards the back, where the washroom lies in wait. "Let's go get a bath."

He nods. "I like baths."

Thaddeus gasps as they step into the washroom, lit from the large luminescent crystals above them, walking with the older angel to a large stone table jetting out from the wall, where he sets down the things, he'd brought with him. Next to the table is a shelf carved into the wall, covered in different types of soaps, different scents.

Nisroc turns to him, gripping the bottom of his thin tunic. "Arms up." He raises his arms, closing his eyes as the Power pulls his tunic up over his head, he shivers when fingers brush over the scars over his shoulders, down his back, and he turns to watch them. "Where'd those come from?"

"I'll tell you later."

"Okay, Nis."

He helps him out of his trousers, brings the scrub brush and a bar of soap, and guides him to sit in the shallows of the washing pool, situating himself between the Captain's legs, he sits still as he rubs the soap over the bristles of the scrub brush, lathering them up, and begins scrubbing his back lightly, he raises his arms up as he circles the scrub brush down his arms, and then up under, first with the left, then with the right, his beard brushes over the side of his neck as he leans forward, scrubbing softly at his chest and belly. "Here, Thad," he hands him the scrub brush. "Did you see how I was doing it?" The younger angel nods lightly. "I want you to do that down your legs okay, and your privates, can you do that for me?"

Thaddeus nods. "I can do that, Nis."

"Good boy." He waits patiently for the young Warden to do as he's asked of him, holding his hand out to take the brush back from him when he passes it over his shoulder to him. He rubs his shoulder lightly. "Lay on back, Thaddy." The young angel seems unsure, but does as he's told, laying back against his legs, he smiles up at the Power as he lays his head in his lap. "Hi, Nis." Nisroc smiles down at him. "Hi, Thaddy." He lathers the soap up in his hands, and gently massages it into his hair, scrubbing lightly at his scalp, washing away the grease and the grime. "Close your eyes." He scrunches his eyes closed, feeling large soapy fingers rub over his face softly, before waters poured over him, and the fingers rub it away. "Okay, it's safe to open again." He opens his eyes and stares up at the large Power, watching as he rinses the suds from his curls. "Okay, we're all done, does that feel better?"

"Yes," the younger angel nods, sitting up and turning. "I like being clean."

"Good, because you're clean now." He pats his thighs gently. "Lets stand up." He rises to his feet and helps the younger angel up with him. They walk together, holding hands, to the shore, and he takes the first towel, one of three, and rubs it over the young angel's dripping curls, drying them as much as he can, then takes the second rubbing down his body; arms and legs, his chest and stomach, over his back. He folds the first tunic up slightly, "arms up."

Smiling, Thaddeus raises his arms, wrapping them around himself, in the large warm tunic, when it's pulled down over him. "And, step into these." He steps into the undergarments, watching as the Power pulls them up, rubbing his hands over the soft tunic. "This tunic smells like you!"

He chuckles, ruffling his curls, as he changes out of his wet clothes, dries off, and changes into his dry clothes. "You think so?"

"Mhmm." He nods happily, pressing the sleeves, too long for him, over his nose. "Yes!" He rubs his belly softly. "Nis, I'm hungry." He wants food but doesn't remember where to get it from. They fed him when he was in the Prison. He didn't have to get his own food.

"Let's go get something to eat then." Nisroc holds his hand out to him, and he happily takes hold of it, letting him walk him from the washroom, nice and clean, down the hall to the kitchen area of the Pavilion. "Are you very hungry or just a little hungry?"

"Just a little bit."

"Okay," he sits him down at the table, making sure he's settled, and leaves him there, making sure to stay where he can be seen, he reaches for an apple, a bowl, and the jar of peanut butter. He cuts up the apple into slices, scoops out a spoon full of peanut butter, and returns to his side, sitting across from him, he sets the bowl of apples and peanut butter down in front of him. "Here you go."

"I love apples and peanut butter!" He smiles at the young angel's excitement. "Thanks, Nis!" He digs into his treat, dipping an apple slice into the peanut butter and taking a big bite, it's so much better then the food they gave him in the Prison, that food was bland and tasteless, but this, this was delicious. He knows that this has always been his favorite snack and he knows that Nis knows too. Nisroc watches him eat his snack with a smile, the Healer was right, he was very much like a fledgling again.

Thaddeus finishes his snack and hums happily, rubbing at his belly softly. "That was yummy." He smiles up at the Power. "Thank you, Nis."

"You're very welcome, Thaddy." He reaches out and rubs his cheek lightly. "Let's go take a nap, alright?"

"Okay, Nis." The little angel stands from where he sits, rushing around the table to take his hand, as the Power stands himself. "I like naps, too." He took a lot of naps in the Prison. But this nap will be okay. Nis will be there when he wakes up. "Can I nap in your bed?"

"You sure can." He guides the little angel down the hall to his room, coming to stand at the edge of his bed, pulling the blankets back, he guides the little one into his bed, laying him down against the pillow, running his fingers through his damp curls. Thaddeus catches his hand, hugging it to his chest tightly. "Nis, will you nap with me?" He looks down slightly. "I don't want to be alone again."

Nisroc smiles down at him comfortingly. "Sure, Thaddy, scoot over for me."

The young angel does as he's told scooting over to the other side, watching with wide eyes as he climbs into the freed side of the bed, laying back against his pillow, he raises his arm slightly. "Come here, Thaddy." The young released prisoner scoots closer again, cuddling up under his arm, against his side, resting his head against the crook of his shoulder. "Thanks for not being mad at me anymore, Nis, and for not making me stay there. I didn't like it there. It was scary."

"Don't worry about it, Tadpole." He runs his fingers through his curls. "You're not going back there again. You're going to stay with me now, how does that sound?"

Thaddeus smiles up at him, before nuzzling back down again. "I'd like to stay with you. I remember you. You were always so nice to me."

Nisroc swallows the guilt that rises from within his chest. "Of course, you're my little tadpole."

"I love you, Nis."

He swallows that guilt again, hugging him closer, he's going to make up for how much he hurt him. Even if he doesn't remember it. "I love you too, Tadpole."


	153. Mood Lifting

"Upstairs. Now." They stand chest to chest, face to face, glaring at each other with all the heat in the world, neither was going to be the first to break away. The elder stepped forward, forcing the younger back a step, and pointed over his shoulder tensely. "You're. Done." He leans in closer. "Go." The younger angel grinds his teeth, glaring silently, not caring in the slightest for the crowd that was forming around them. "I'm not done yet." The elder growls lowly, fingers curling tightly around his arm, and forces him around, shoving him forward a step. "Yes, you are." He stumbles as he's shoved forward again. "Go."

The younger growls in similar fashion, turning over a cart as he stalks forward, towards the stairs at the back of the Infirmary.

They all watch him go, not knowing what had set off the even tempered angel's temper, watching him turn over carts and swipe off desks as he passed them, stalking up the stairs until he was out of sight.

He watches him until his disappears, jaw clenched, and huffs angrily as he turns around, shooing everyone else back to their work. His brother falls in step at his side. "Oren, are you okay?"

"Do I _look _like I'm okay?" He turns a glare on him, continuing to his desk, looking away before he can see the other angel raise their hands in defense. "I don't know what's gotten into him. He'd better get himself into check, or so help me, I don't care, I'll beat him until he can't _stand _without flinching."

"While I agree that his attitude needs to be put back into check, perhaps a firmer approach isn't the best idea." The Captain turns a harsh gaze onto the other angel, it's not directed at him, but it's still biting. "Then what do you suggest, _Akriel_?"

The Mental Specialist is unphased by his anger. "Things have been very tense here lately, we've all been on edge, you know how he is in picking up other peoples emotions and how they can overcome even his lengthy temper." Oren nods slightly, he does know these things, Ephraim's always been vulnerable to the strong emotions around him when they're potent enough. "Perhaps his mood just needs to be lifted. It's been some time since the two of you have had _that _kind of alone time together. Maybe it's time you made up for that." He nods again, it has been some time since they had one of those moments, carefree and playful, it always did make their younger brother happier, lifting his mood to new levels. "Your anger facing off against his temper will do nothing but cause more harm. He needs helped, not reprimanded, he's merely been overcome by everything."

Akriel watches him closely, as he nods again, agreeing to his words and suggestions, and as he rubbed a hand over his face in resignation. Ephraim would be harmed more rather than reprimanded if he were to go that route he had intended to go. "You're right. Of course, you are. These things are your forte." He looks up to his brother, the anger having faded from his features as understanding overcame him, agreeing to what was needed. "You're in charge while I'm away."

The Mental Specialist nods, patting him on the shoulder as he turns, making his own way back through the rows of the Infirmary floor, towards the stairs at the back, that lead up to their Loft above. The Lounge has been destroyed in his wake, he ignores it, it'll be set to rights when they're done. He continues on, to the hall that holds there bedrooms, walking down the hall towards the closed door, there's banging from inside, the rooms being torn apart behind that door. Sighing, to calm his own anger back down, that wasn't what was needed right now, he reaches for the door handle, turning it open, he pushes to door inwards. There's a scream and he ducks quickly to avoid the book thrown at him from within the room, looking to his younger brother, he rushes forward, not allowing him another chance to find something else to throw, and curls his arms around his waist as he tackles him backwards over the bed behind him. The younger angel shrieks in surprise, caught off guard by the sudden rush, and reaches his fist back when he's settled on his back, to throw forward, aimed at his older brothers face, but the older angel looks up just as he throws it forward, and catches his fist mid swing, lifting it up above his head, hold his arm captive.

Oren comes up to look him in the eye, his eyes are red, angered beyond belief, especially at being restrained. "Get the fuck off me."

"I can't do that." He curls his free arm under him. "I was going to beat you until you couldn't stand without it hurting. But Ak talked me down." "I couldn't care less." "He said you needed your mood lifted, and luckily for us, I know just how to do that." "I fucking _hate_ you." He smiles slightly. "We haven't gotten to do this for quite some time, I've neglected you, Ephi, it's time to make up for that." "Don't you fucking _dare_." He leans over to the side, to the exposed underarm, his arm still captive above his head, fingers curled into a tight fist. "I think I'll start with my little friend here."

"Oren, I'm fucking warning you!"

"Uh, uh, ah, you are to call me _'Ori'_" He dips his finger into the exposed armpit and the angel under him jolts slightly, biting his lip tightly, he's surprised he hasn't managed to draw blood. "_Oren!" _He wiggles his finger slowly and the younger angel squirms under him, his arm tugging slightly in his grip, and he smiles softly. "No, no, I told you to call me _'Ori'_. I'm not Oren now, I'm you big brother, _'Ori'_."

"Stohohop!"

"No, no, we're making up for lost time." He wiggles his finger a bit faster, digging in with a second, and the younger angel finally shrieks softly, his fingers uncurling and spreading. "Nohohoho! Ohohohohorihihhihi!"

"There we go. That's it."

"Nohohhoho! Tihihihihickles!"

"These tickles, huh?" He digs five fingers into the armpit under him, looking over to his younger brother's face, smiling at the way his eyes sparkle with mirth. "I forgot just how ticklish you are." He reaches up, pulling his fingers away from his armpit, and scratches a finger lightly over the side of his neck. Ephraim yelps, scrunching his shoulder up as much as he can, pressing his head to his shoulder in an attempt to block the finger, but it only traps it against his neck, he shrieks softly, when his brother lets go of his wrist, and begins scratching two fingers over either side of his neck. Shaking his head, he shrieks intermittently, scrunching his shoulders up trying to block the fingers from his neck. He manages to trap the fingers of his left hand, but the right ones are free, they come up to scratch under his chin, and he yelps, giggling these high pitched giggles, pressing his chin to his chest to try and stave off the fingers, but they jump back to the sides of his neck, scratching a light path down to his ears and back up to the side of his chin. "_Orihihihihi!"_

"You don't want me to tickle your neck?" Ephraim shrieks softly, shaking his head frantically, and Oren chuckles softly. "Where do you want me to tickle you?"

"Nohhohoho tihihihickles!"

"Oh, no, you were a bad angel, you're getting tickles as your punishment."

"Ihihihihi'm sohohhhohohoorry!"

He chuckles softly. "Apology accepted." Oren wiggles his fingers down at him, as he sits up onto his knees, the younger angel giggles in anticipation. "But you're still getting tickles as your punishment, so where do you want tickles, you better choose before I choose for you."

"Nohohhohoho! Ihhihihihih sahahahahahiiihihihihaid sohohohorry!"

"Okay, I'll choose, belly tickles."

"NO! Nohohoho! Ohohhohoriihihhihi! Nohohoh beheheheelly tihihihickleehehehehes!"

"Oh, lots of belly tickles." He snakes his fingers up under his tunic, pressing into the bare skin. "We've got to turn that mood around, and the best way for that is," he wiggles his fingers into the younger angel's bare belly, and he shrieks brightly, arching his back as boisterous laughter exploded from him. "Belly tickles."

Ephraim shrieks intermittently, shoving at the hands under his tunic desperately, kicking his legs out behind his older brother, trapped under him as he sat over his waist. "Ohohohohorihhihihihihi! Ihihihihi'm sohohohohorry!"

"How sorry are you?" He wiggles his fingers into his lower belly, and the young angel jolts, throwing his head back in laughter. "You disrespected me in front of _everyone_. You better be seeping with just how sorry you are."

"Veehehehehehehery! Veehehehehehehery vehehehehery soohohohohorry!" He shrieks with laughter, batting at those torturous hands frantically. "Nohohhohohot my behehehheelly! Nohohohohoot thehehehrrrehehehehehe!"

"Not your belly?" He obliges, pulling his fingers away from his belly, and reaches down to squeeze at his thighs. "How about these thighs?" He curls his fingers inwards. "These thighs have always been a good spot."

Ephraim's eyes widen almost comically, and he squeals, kicking his legs desperately. "EEIEIIEIEEHEHHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHO! NOHOHOHOT THEEHEHEHAHAHAHAHHEHEHEHEAHERE! OOHOHOHOHOHORIIHIHIHIHII! TIHIHIHIHIICKLES! TIHIHIHIHICKLES! IHHIHIHIHIHI'M SOHOHHOOORRRY!"

"I heard you, and I already said your apology has been accepted, now we're just fixing that mood, and making sure it stays in high spirits."

"IHIHIHIHI'M BEHEHEHEHEAAHAAHHAHAHAEETTER! ITIHIHIHIHITS BEHEHEHEHEEAAHAHAHAHAHEEHEHEETTER! ITS BETTER!"

"I don't know about that, we need to be sure, one hundred percent positive."

"IHIHIHIIM POOHHOHOHOAOAHAHHAHAHAHAHOSITIVE! IHIHHIHIHI SWEHEHEHEHEAAAHAHAHAHHAHAAAARRRR!"

Oren pauses, staring down at him, smiling as he heaves for air. "Hmmm." Ephraim's eyes widen at that tone. "I don't think I believe you." And promptly squeals again when those fingers dug back in.


	154. The Kind Warden

The boots echoing down the hall had all the prisoners backing up in their cells, they knew who it was, he always came around this time, finding someone to take back with him, they'd all had a round with him, they knew how brutal he could be, and they hid back in the dark corners of their cells, trying to make sure they did nothing to draw attention to themselves, lest they be the one taken back there this time. The shadows hid smiles, faces were tucked into arms to hide away even more, hiding smiles behind them, some bit back the giggles of anticipation that built up within them as the sound of the boot steps drew nearer and nearer to them, feeling the tingles run over their sensitive spots. Some curled their arms around their bellies, others curled their toes up, pressing back into their shadowed corner, watching as the shadow along the wall grew larger and larger. They watched with wide eyes as the being walked passed their cells, sometimes he'd pause, if only to add to the torturous anticipation, smirking as he heard the steep inhales as he looked around into his cells, his eyes always managing to find the prisoner within, and they'd curl tighter around themselves, breathing a sigh of relief when he moved on, leaving them in their shadows, they were spared his torture, if only for the moment.

"Who should I take with me today?" He stops before a few cells, peering into the occupant hiding in the dark corner, smiling at them that smile that always alluded to his torture to come, some of the teased souls would giggle softly, curling tighter, and he'd smile again, something lighter, something fonder, and he'd move on. "I could take a few of you, I have nothing to do today but spend time with my dear little prisoners." He stops between a set of cells, peering into one, and then the other, his eyes always finding those of the prisoner hiding within. "Rogziel, Satqiel, would you like to come with me?" He chuckles when they shake their heads frantically, backing up in their corners, one's toes curling up and the other scrunching his shoulders up as far as they could go. "You don't?" He smiles teasingly. "Shame. I could take you anyway. Torture you until it drives you crazy. Explore all those little spots that I've come to enjoy torturing. Are you sure you don't want to come?" They shake their heads again and he chuckles lightly. "I think I'll come back later and ask again." He moves on, smiling at the sighs of relief he hears come from their direction, the prisoners in the cells he's passed crowd around the bars of their cells, trying to see who he's going to take with him, peering out as much as they can, if only to make sure he didn't turn and come back for them.

They all watch on baited breath as he stops again, turning to look into the cell directly, placing his hands on his hips lightly as he peered in to that prisoner within, and they all press against their bars to try and see who it was he had picked for the first session that day. "I think I'll take you with me first."

"No!"

"Oh, yes, you first. We're going to have some fun together." He steps back, gesturing to the guards at his shoulders, and they step forward to unlock the cell and gather the chosen prison up. They can all hear the struggle as the unlucky prisoner tries to fight off the guards reaching for him, theirs a grunt and a yelp, and the Warden speaks again. "Hey, hey, don't get rowdy with him. Be gentle."

He turns, as the guards drag the unwilling first torture victim of the day out of his cell as he struggles against their hold, and he leads the three of them forward, looking into some of his cells, to some of his prisoners, as he passes them. "You could all be next. No one knows who I'll pick for some torture today."

They all get to see who it is as he passes, putting up as much of a fight as he can, and spare the young sentry a glance of sorrow as he passes them, dragged down the hall a ways, until the guard on his right has enough and turns, tugging the prisoner over his shoulder, as they continue their way down to the room at the end of the hall. That's the torture room, where they're taken when the Warden decides it's their time, and they stay back there for a while, until he's had his fill.

The unlucky prisoner is taken into the room, they can hear the rattle of the straps on the table as they're manipulated, and the guards step out, closing the door behind them, standing at the points in front of the door, not that anyone would _try _to get in there, the Warden's left inside with the unlucky soul as is usually the way when he comes to share some torture with them.

…

Gadreel struggles against the arm curled around his thin waist as he's carried into the torture room, the pattern in the stone flooring changes when they enter, and he kicks, wiggling desperately, he should have known that he would be chosen first. They set him on the table, the first guard holds him down as the second closes the straps around his ankles, coming up to stand at his other side, they raise his arms above his head, reaching for his shoulders, manifesting his wings into their living plain of existence, and press him back against the table as they close the straps around his wrists, he feels his wings press against the table, a large leather strap stretching over it, hooking into place at the bottom of the table. They nod, sparing their Warden a glance, and step back, turning out the door, closing it behind them as they exit, he knows their just outside the door.

He tugs on his binds as he always does, as the Warden busies himself across from him, he watches him pull the ring of keys from his belt, setting them on the table he stands before, then the whip on his other hip, setting that next to his keys, he turns then, smiling at him that same smile that sends tingles down their spines. He steps forward, up to his feet, and he squirms, twisting his feet from one side to the other, bringing a smile to the Warden's features. "Now that we're comfortable," he reaches forward, curling the fingers of his right hand over his left set of toes, pulling them back slightly. "Let's begin your session."

"Thaddeus!" He stares at the fingers hovering over his toes, the Warden having paused, waiting for him to continue. "Please don't!"

"Oh, begging's never gotten me to stop before, has it?" He touches a finger to his big toe, and stares at him, as he starts to scratch at it lightly. The poor prisoner bites his lip, tugging on his bound foot lightly, shaking his head when the other fingers slowly join in, wiggling lightly on the sensitive skin under his toes. "Oh, you're withholding on me now. Trying to be stubborn, are we? We'll see about that." He turns, letting go of his toes for a moment, and he immediately takes that as his opportunity to curl them up as tight as he can muster, watching with wide eyes as the Warden turns for something on the table. He pulls forward a feather, it's a beautiful feather, long and sleek. "You should all feel special, I took this feather from my own wings, granted it was a mild molting, I decided to save it for you all." He pulls his toes back again, despite his struggles, and he giggles, he can't help himself, as he runs the feather tip over his toes. "Let's see how stubborn you'll be with this, huh?"

Gadreel shakes his head, a smile stretching over his face, as he swipes the feather tip over the skin under his toes, he shrieks softly when he manages to worm the feather between his big and second toe, pulling it back and forth, brushing his toes with the edges of the feather. He kicks his foot again, twisting it from side to side, as much as the restraint would allow, shrieking with laughter as he tortures his toes, threading the feather between each other and rubbing it back and forth, scratching lightly with the quill of the feather over the sensitive skin under his toes. The Warden smiles up at him, kneeling before his right foot, running the pointed quill under his toes. "Not so stubborn now, are you?"

"Hahahahahahhaaeeahahahahahahahahah! Nohohohohohot myhyhyhy tohohohohoehehehhehes! Nohohohohoho hahahhahahahaha nohohohohot thahahahahhahat!"

"Not this?" He scratches the feather's quill over the skin between his fourth and little toe, holding them open for easier access. "Well, I'll have to sit here for a minute then. I'm torturing you after all, I need this to be torturous."

"Hahahahaheaeeahahahahaehehehhehehe! Stoohhohohhop! Stooohohohhhooohoop ihihihihit! Heheheehehheheeheeaaahahhahaha!"

"These toes have always been fun to torture." He carries on for a few moments longer before pulling away from the toes, the younger angel sags against the table, his chest heaving from the force of his laughter. "But there's other places, isn't there?" He stands away from his toes, he still curls them up just to be safe, turning slightly to set the feather back on the table, he walks around the side of the table, trailing his hand up the side, out of sight, and Gadreel jumps around jolting slightly, trying to get his eyes on it, to see where the next possible attack is going to come from. He watches the hand closely when it raises, watching his fingers closely, as they curl around the bottom hem of his tunic. "Let's get this up. I like a bare canvas." He lifts his tunic up, and he shakes his head, as the tunic is lifted up over his face, tucked over his head, he can barely just make out the Warden's outline. Fingers press over his belly lightly, and he stills, sucking in a deep breath. He chuckles softly, wiggling his fingers in gently, and the prisoner bites his lip again. "Now, now, I'll get the feather again." The wiggling grows steadier. "I want to hear some laughter." He shakes his head, under his tunic, and bites his lip harder, having to fight back the giggles even more. "Come on, you stubborn little thing." He claws his fingers in, and that breaks the dam, giggles explode from him, as fingers wiggle in circles over his belly, leaving little untouched. "I know all the right buttons to push in order to get what I want." He kicks his legs as best as he can, shrieking with laughter, shaking his head under his tunic as fingers assault all over his belly.

"Thahahahahhahahaddeheheheheheheus! Thahahahahhaadd! Nohohohohohoho!" He squirms as far to the side as he can manage, trying to escape those fingers. "Pleheheheheheheahahahahhahase! Whyhyhyhyhy!"

"Why?" He wiggles a finger under his belly button and the young prisoner shrieks brightly, sucking in his belly desperately. "Because I wanted to, and I can, and because you're not just my prisoner, you my little brother, and you need some laughter after all that's happened. We both get what we need out of this."

His finger dips into his belly button and Gadreel squeals, arching his back, tugging against his restraints. "Nohohohohoho! Thahahahahahadd! Gehehehhehehet iihihhihiit oohohhohohhuhuhuhut! Ihihihihit tihihihihiickles! Thahahahahhahahahadd! Plehehehehehahahahhahahaease!"

"Begging now, are we?" The finger pulls away from his belly button and he breaths frantically, trying to figure out where he's going next. "Let me give you a reason to beg."

He inhales, wondering where he's going to go next, when he feels fingers sink into the feathers of his wing. They dig in sharply, viciously, and his eyes shoot open, screaming in laughter as fingers assault the sensitive flesh of his wings. He shakes his head frantically, his wing fluttering under the restraint, the need to pull it back eating at him, the fingers are relentless, digging into the meat. They spider under his wing, crawling over the sensitive flesh underneath. "Go ahead, beg me to stop now."

"THAHAHAHAHHAHADD! NOHOHOHOHOHO! NOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHE WIHIHIHINGS! AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAA! GEHEHEHHEHET OOHOHOHOHOFF! GEHEEHEHEHEHET OOHOHOHOHOFF!" Five more fingers join in on the assault and he screams again, howling with laughter, cackling like a mad man. "STOHOHOHOHOHOOP! STOHOHOHOHOP! PLEHEHEHEHHEHEHAAHAHHAHAHSE! MEHEHEHEHEHHERCY! IHIHIHIHIHIT TIIHHIHIHIHICKLES! IHIHIHIIT TIHIHIHICKLESHEHEHEHHES SOHOHO BAHAHAHHAHAD!"

"What am I?"

"WAAHAHHAHAHARDEHEHEHEHEHEN!"

"I know that. What else am I?"

Gadreel tugs at his wing desperately, it quivers under those torturous fingers, howling with laughter as their assault is relentless. "BIHIHIHIHIIG BROHOHOHOHOTEHEHEHEHEHEHER! BIHIHIG BROHOHOHTHEHEHEHER!"

"I'm who's big brother?"

"MIHIHIHIINEEHEHEHEHE! PLEHEHEHHEEHAHAHAHHAAHASE BIHIHIHIG BROOOHHOHHOHOTHER! NOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEHE WIHIHIHING! NOOHHOHHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEHRRHRHEHEHEHEHEHE!"

"And, what does that make you?"

"BAHAHAHAHHAABY BROHOHOHOOHTHEHEHEHEHEER! TIHIHHIHICKLEEEHEHEHEHES! IHIHIHIHIT TIHIHIHIHICKLEEEEHEHEHEHEHES! AHAHAHAHHAHAHHAEAEAHEHEHEHEHEAHHAAHAHA!"

"That's right." His torturer finally stops his attack, he's breathless when he does, weak from exertion. He feels the leather strap release from over his wings, then from over his wrists, he rubs at his wing desperately, before pulling his tunic back down again, as the older angel undoes the buckles around his ankles. "Come on," his older brother helps him off the table, winding his arm around his shoulders, as they turn for the door across the room, where the Warden's office is. "You can nap on the cot in my office while I play with a few of the others."

"With your cloak?"

He chuckles softly. "Yes, you can nap with my cloak."

The older angel opens the door to his office, helping him inside to the cot on the far wall, Gadreel settles down against the pillow tiredly, smiling slightly when his older brother shakes his cloak out and lays it over him like a blanket. Fingers rub though his messy curls. "Get some sleep, little brother."


	155. Remembering The Past

He starts awake that night, a whimper on his lips, eyes shooting open suddenly into the dark room around him. His eyes shoot around, trying to take in his surroundings, his mind reeling from what he'd just seen. It had been a week since he started his sessions with the Healer and it was starting to bring about memories, they came in slowly, often times when he was sleeping, as dreams, good and bad, they came to him when he least expected them to. He reaches back, running the tips of his fingers over the raised scars he can reach over his shoulder, what he had seen, what his dream had been about, surely it was one of those false memories the Healer had said the Mindbreaker had implanted in his mind.

He reaches over, pushing lightly at the mound sleeping next to him, pushing a tad harder when he doesn't wake. He hums softly, turning over to peer at him, eyes shining with concern. "Tadpole, what's wrong?"

He scoots closer, unsure on if what he had seen was real or not and fearing the actual answer. "Nis." Thaddeus swallows thickly. "The scars on my back…. Did you really…..Did you really do that?"

Nisroc sits up fully, reaching over for the lamp on the side table, turning it on, it casts a warm light of them in the darkened room. He knew that there was a possibility that this was something he'd come to remember, the Healer had said that everything he'd lived through was something he would remember, with time, and he knew that it was a possibility that this was something that would come up.

"Tadpole," he doesn't know how to broach the subject, he's been avoiding it as much as he could, secretly hoping that it was something he wouldn't come to remember. "Tadpole, I…." Honesty was always best. "I did."

"You…. You whipped me?"

He nods, shame filling his heart, and he scrubs at his face as he looks away. "I did, Tadpole, and no amount of apologizing will ever make up for that."

"How…How could you do that to me?" He scoots away from him on the bed, but doesn't get up, he has no where else to go. "How could you _beat _me, like that?"

"I was just so _angry_, Thaddy, what you had done, you had done something that was inexcusable." He didn't want to go too much into detail on the events that led up to that fateful day. "I was blinded by rage. All I could see was making you feel the same that you had made so many others feel."

"I…I hurt people…. I hurt people _bad_?"

Nisroc turns towards him, turning his head to face him with a hand under his chin. "Thaddeus, we all did things to others that were wrong. I beat you. You _did _hurt others. None of it was your fault, and you most certainly didn't deserve the outcome. That wasn't you," he shakes his head firmly. "You weren't in control of your own actions."

"Is that….Is that why they all look at me like that?"

It breaks his head, but the Power nods. "You did _bad _things, Tadpole, I won't lie to you. Very _bad _things."

Thaddeus pulls his chin out of the Power's grip, turning to look down at his lap, biting his lip gently for a moment. "They're all scared of me, aren't they?" He wipes at his eye, catching a tear before it can slip free, the Power sits there, watching him closely. "You said….You said you wanted me to feel what I made them all feel….I hurt them…I _hurt _them." He rubs at his eyes again. "I deserved it. I deserved the same pain I gave them all. I deserved it."

"You did not."

He nods.

"Tadpole," fingers curl under his chin again, pulling him back around once more, his eyes sparkling in the soft light with unshed tears. "You did not. I was wrong to do what I did to you. I shouldn't have hurt you like that. I was blinded. I should have seen that you weren't acting like yourself anymore, I noticed, but didn't act on it."

"I hurt all those people, Nis," he sniffles softly. "I'm bad. I'm a bad angel."

"No, no," he wipes the tears away tenderly. "You are a very good angel. All of that pain, that wasn't you, I know you. I _know _how much you cared about them. I know you did. You were so kind to them, Tadpole, you made them laugh even when they thought their laughter was gone. You're a very good angel, Tadpole, so, so good. None of that pain that was caused was you, none of it was you, it was a monster wearing your face. It was someone else, another being all together, but it wasn't you."

"They're scared of me now, Nis," a tear escapes from the corner of his eye. "That's why they don't like being with me. That's why they make those looks to each other. That's why I made Gaddy cry. They're all scared of me, aren't they?"

Nisroc wipes away the tears that manage to fall, giving a sad nod. "I'm sorry, Tadpole." He cursed that woman, as the young angels eyes welled with more tears, until it came too much for them to hold and they spilled over, as he choked on a sob, pressing his hands to his mouth to try and hold them in, and failing, he cursed her for ruining his little Tadpole's life, for breaking him to the point of no return. Thaddeus had loved them all with all his heart and she had turned that into something sick and demented. "I'm so, so sorry, Tadpole." There's nothing he can say to deny the facts, most were petrified of the young Warden, they had forgotten what he had been like before, how much he had cared, all they remembered now was the horror and the pain.

All he can do is pull the young angel into his chest, curl him in his arms, as his sobs break past his hands, bleeding through his fingers, tears trekking down his cheeks like raindrops from a storm cloud. All of this, all of this pain that still lingered, everything that had happened, it all fell on one persons shoulders, and if he wasn't preoccupied with taking care of this volatile angel, he'd hunt her down, orders be damned, and he'd kill her. Torture her to death. For causing his family so much grief. For causing them so much harm.

He pulls the lithe angel closer, up into his lap, as he rests back on the pillows, rubbing his back soothingly as he sobbed himself hoarse, pressed into his chest.

"It'll be okay, Tadpole." He's not sure himself, but he'll make sure of it all the same, he'd fix things. "It's okay." Was it, though?

"Th—They're sc—scared of m—me!" He sobs brokenly against his chest. "I—I hurt th—them a—all!"

"Things will get better again, they will." He'll make sure they do. "Sshhh, ssshhhh, it's okay. I've got you. I'm right here."

"Nihihi—ihihis!"

"It's okay, little Tadpole. It's alright." Nisroc threads his fingers through his curls, rubbing at his head lightly, because he knows how much he likes it. "Hush now, hush little Tadpole, you're going to make yourself sick."

Thaddeus nods into his chest, and he doesn't mind that he's rubbing snot and tears into his tunic, and looks up at him, all pitiful, tear stained cheeks, red swollen eyes. He smiles down at him gently, rubbing his cheek tenderly. "It's going to be okay."

"I—It wi—will be?"

"It will." He nods firmly. "Things will get better again. It's just going to take come time."

"An—And y—you'll st—stay with m—me?"

The Power nods. "I'm not leaving your side for anything short of another war." He reaches over for his nightstand, curling his fingers around the cloth sitting there. "Let's get you cleaned up." He rubs at his cheeks, rubbing the tear tracks away, dabs at his eyes, and holds the hankie under his nose. "Blow, Tadpole." Thaddeus nods, sniffling softly, blowing his nose into the hankie. "Good, angel." Thaddeus smiles slightly. "I—I'm a g—good an—angel?"

"You're a very good angel, do you hear me?" He kisses his forehead softly. "A very good angel."

"I—I'm a g—good an—angel."

"Yes, you are." He sets the cloth back on the bedside table and takes up the glass instead. "Here, take a sip." The young angel nods, curling his lips around the edge of the glass, taking a large sip from it. "Better?"

The young angel nods, curling back against his chest. "M'sleepy now, Nis."

He smiles down to the sleepy little Warden. "Lets go back to sleep, then." He reaches out to turn the light out, and curls his arms back around his little Tadpole, as he settles back down himself.


	156. Sifting Through The Past

"Alright, do you know what this box is?"

They're seated on the Power's bed, cross legged, a box sitting between them. The elder pats the sides of the box lightly, the Healer had said to introduce him to things from the past, bringing back the memories of his fledglinghood was proving to be a rather difficult task, even more so then recent memories, they were there, but it was like they were blocked. They couldn't quite reach them, no matter how hard they tried to tap at that wall, they were locked away rather securely.

"Do you know what this is?" So, upon being give that request, he took the liberty of digging some things out of their storage, a box full of trinkets and the like, that had been set away since the day the younger angel had become Warden, set aside, but never forgotten. Until they had been.

The younger angel shakes his head. "No, is it important, Nis?"

He nods lightly. "Very important. It's all yours."

The young angel looks down in wonder, taking in the contents of the box, and it both breaks and warms his heart at the same time. "All mine?"

"All yours." He reaches into the box, pulling out a large plastic item. "Do you remember this?"

Thaddeus shakes his head, staring at it in wonder. "No. What is it?"

"It's your airplane. It was your favorite toy as a fledgling." He smiles slightly. "You rode up on my shoulders, holding it high above your head, making little noises of flight under your breath."

The young Warden stares at it a moment longer, before looking up at the Power, reaching out with both hands. "Can I, can I touch it?"

"Of course, you can." He holds the airplane out to him, and he takes it carefully, running his fingers over the top of the plane, over the wings, and he smiles to himself, something flashing before his eyes. "I remember something!"

Nisroc smiles gently. "What do you remember?"

"I remember you taking me flying. Before I got my own wings. And I'd bring my plane with me. You held onto it too, so I didn't drop it."

"I did." The Captain chuckles softly. "You loved it when I'd take you flying." He reaches back into the box, pulling out a blanket, different hues of blue, little wave patterns sewn into the fabric. "This is your blanket. You were wrapped up in it the day you were given to me, just a little thing, little tufts of curls and a pale little face peeking out from under the blanket, you had the biggest smile, your eyes were so bright. You loved this blanket, you'd throw an absolute fit if you didn't have it for naptime or bedtime, and you'd leave it everywhere. I can't tell you the number of times you sent me off to search for it because you'd left it somewhere and forgot where." He passes the blanket to the young angel, watching as he sets his airplane aside, and pulls the blanket close, first hugging it to his chest, and then pressing it to his face, rubbing his cheek against it.

"I remember this!"

"You do?"

"I do! I love my blanket! You used to tie it around my neck, when you were wearing your cape, and say it was my own cape and we'd go walking around the training field together."

"We did, you'd walk with me a few paces, but always ended up on my shoulders." He reaches back into the box, pulling out a long feather, its slim and full, sleek, nearly as long as his forearm, silver and white. "Do you remember this?"

Thaddeus nods slowly, eyeing the feather carefully. "It's….It's one of yours….One of your flight feathers…..You gave it to me…..When I had my first molt….Because…."

"Because?" He nods, brushing his finger down the ridge of the feather. "You know this. I know you do."

"Because…..I was sad….I was really sad…..I thought all my feathers were falling out and my wings were going to be bald…And you gave me the feather….You said that your feather would grow back like mine would…And we watched it as it did…It took weeks…But they grew back in…..And I kept the feather because you gave it to me."

"You did," he eyes the feather with a smile. "You slept with it for the first week, carrying it around in your little hand for the entire week, checking your wings to see the progress your little feathers were making in coming back in." He looks back up to the younger angel, smiling mischievously, and something stirs in his belly at the sight of that smile. "Remember what else I did with this feather?"

Thaddeus shakes his head lightly, he doesn't remember that, but he wants to. "What did you do?"

"I could make you scream with laughter with this single feather."

He tilts his head. "How?"

"How?" A saddened look crosses the elder's features, and he immediately feels bad for putting it there, but it disappears soon enough. "You were quite a ticklish little thing."

"I was?"

The Power smiles softly. "You were, oh, I get you howling with laughter. And, from what I heard, your turned did the same with your Prisoners. You made sure they never forgot how to laugh, even being locked in that dreary place."

"I wasn't didn't always hurt them?"

Nisroc shakes his head. "No, you didn't, you had originally taken very good care of them. You never took a charge of your own, but you treated your Prisoners like they were, you made sure they bathed like they should, you made sure they were well fed, you didn't let anyone get to rough with them. You would let the ones who got too saddened at their being there come stay with you for the night. You took excellent care of them. Even the ones who weren't as docile as most of the others, the ones that were there for violent tendencies, they respected you too much to disrespect you to your face. You were kind, but you had a temper, I feel as though they were too cautious to bring that temper down on them. You were quite firm when it came to them disrespecting you."

"I..Did I hurt them?"

"No, no, you didn't hurt them. Not in the way you're thinking. Have no worries. They learned quick though, and you took great care of them after, they all loved you." He rubs at his beard lightly. "You rehabilitated quite a number of angels, they'd come stay with you for a bit and you'd care for them in the way you cared for all your patients, and they'd get out, not coming back if only to visit you."

"I helped them?"

The younger angel smiles when he nods. "You did, you've turned a good number of angels back on the right path. You treated them all with the care a guardian does, most came from distasteful guardians, raised to be a certain way, but you curtailed that rather quickly."

"How?"

"Well," he scratches at his beard. "From what I've heard, you used to take the new Prisoners back into your office, you'd keep them there for some time, I don't have the faintest idea what actually happened in there, but I have a few ideas, they'd always come out teary eyed and rather meek, some rubbing at their rear ends, and you'd show them to their cell, sending them to bed early, without any supper for the first night. Though you cared for the angels under your watch, you didn't like seeing them come back in the same manner, you only minded when they came to visit with the ability to leave freely after."

"And they liked me?"

"Oh, they adored you, Thaddy. They all waited for you to come visit them for the day. You'd give them a good torture and let them nap in your office after."

Thaddeus reaches forward to set his airplane back in the box, curling his blanket in his arms securely, he sat back against the pillows, he liked hearing about how he was before, before he hurt people, and they became scared of him. Before he became bad and stopped remembering.

"Was it bad torture? Is there a good torture? You said I wasn't always bad. Isn't all torture bad?"

Nisroc shakes his head lightly, smiling back down to the feather. "No, not all torture is bad. There's tickle tortures, those are good, it can be fun. You used to tickle torture your Prisoners for a good time, until they were screaming with laughter and begging breathlessly for mercy, you made sure they all remembered how to laugh in that dreary place, and then you'd take them to nap in your office for a short while before finding another victim to play with."

"Did I…Did I torture Gadreel like that?"

"Oh, yes," he chuckles softly. "Little Gad was your favorite victim. You two had been very close, you took him being there very seriously, and made sure he didn't focus on the endless length of time he was sentenced to, you treated him so kindly, so gentle, you'd let him out to follow you around as you made your rounds, you gave him an extra pillow and extra blankets, you fretted to the Healer when he stopped eating for a short while, for a while there, you two ate together, if only for you to make sure he ate his entire meal." He shakes his head fondly. "Oh, you'd torture him frequently, it was always his toes. You enjoyed torturing his toes. And his wings. Oh, you'd get him screaming with laughter in no time. You knew all the right buttons to push."

"Could I…. Could I still do that to him?"

"I'm sure you could, in some time, it could most certainly help heal the rift between you two. He loved you like nothing else, and I know he still does, he's just guarded his heart a bit more then before. I'm sure if Tus and I were there he'd be a bit more comfortable with you being near to him."

"Can we… Can we do that some time?"

Nisroc smiles, nodding lightly. "I'm sure we could set up some time with Tus and him. I'll have to ask."

"Thank you, Nis."

"Always, Tadpole."

Thaddeus blushes softly. "Can you show me?"

He tilts his head. "Show you what?"

"What you did with the feather?"

"Oh, Tadpole," Nisroc smiles at him, that same mischievous smile. "I was hoping that you would ask me that." He lifts the box off the bed and sets it on the floor beside them, crawling closer to him, Thaddeus smiles in excitement, stretching his legs out when fingers tug at his ankles, laying back against the pillows as the large Power came to lay over him. He tugs his tunic upwards. "You used to pull their tunics up over their head, blocking them from seeing what you were doing," he pulls the tunic up over his head, tossing it to the side as he pulls it off completely. "But I like to see _my _victims." He comes to rest over top of him, looming over him on his shoulders, smiling as he twirls the feather between his fingers. "Lets start up here, you were ticklish just about everywhere, let's see if that still rings true."

Thaddeus watches him with wide eyes as he leans over, curling his fingers around his shoulder, and he knows its to keep it from scrunching up, and he inhales sharply at the light touch of the tip of the feather rubbing over the side of his neck. He begins to giggle softly, when the feather twirls down to his ear, stroking up behind it. "You're neck has never been very fun, good for some giggling, but that's it." He curls the feather in his fingers, reaching down for his left wrist. His other arm curls under his head as he wings his arm up, those fingers curling around his wrist, to keep his arm trapped above his head. "I want some real, rich laughter." He tries to look over, but his view is blocked by the Power's shoulder. He shrieks softly when the quill of the feather presses into his armpit, stretching his fingers out as it sits there teasingly. "This has always been a good spot." The quill moves, tracing lightly over his underarm, and he shrieks again, a bit brighter this time, soft laughter slipping from him, as letters are traced over his armpit.

"T." He shrieks, tugging at his wrist."

"A." Nisroc sounds entertained as he tortures him.

"D." The younger angel shrieks with laughter.

"P." "Hahahahahahahah! Nihihihihihis!"

"O." The Power pulls the feather away and wiggles a finger into the hollow of his armpit, and he shrieks brightly, tugging on his arm as he shrieks with laughter.

"L." "Eheheheheheheheaaahahahahhahhahaha! Stohohohhop! Hahahahahheaeahahahahah!"

"E." He presses his cheek against the Powers upper arm, laughing brightly at the playful torture, fingers brushing over the back of the Power's hand as he tries to free his own fruitlessly. He feels the Power move slightly, he soon realizes that he's setting the feather down, as he flutters five fingers over his armpit. He shrieks in laughter, shaking his head frantically, the younger angel presses his cheek to the older angel's upper arm firmly, twisting his wrist around as much as he can in its captive state. "Eeehehahahahhahahahahhaaeeheheahahahaha! Nohohohohoh! Nihihihihihis! Nohohhhohohot thahahahahhahaat! Nohohohohohot thohohohohooaaohahhahahaahoose!"

"Do you remember what these are called?" He nods quickly against the Power's upper arm. "What are they called, Tadpole?"

"Fluhuhuhuhuahahahahhauutters! Fluhuhuhuahahahahhahuutters! Hahahahahahahahaha!"

"That's right." He stills for a moment, his fingers posed over his armpit, he can feel them. "What are they called?"

He shakes his head, and the Power chuckles, turning to look at him as he does. "Say it," he flutters his fingers a bit and he shrieks with laughter, pressing his head back against the pillows. "Fluhuhuhuhuahahahahahuutters!" His fingers still again, and he watches him closely. "What are they called, again?"

Thaddeus giggles in anticipation. "Flutters?"

"Okay." He flutters his fingers again and the young angel throws his head back, shrieking with laughter, cackling brightly as the Power tortures his armpit. "I'll give you some flutters." He remembers these. He used to give these. It drove them all nuts.

"Nohohohohoho! Nihihihihiis! Nohohohohoooahahahhahaha fluhuhuhuhuhutters!"

"Aww, but I like flutters." He itches the tip of the quill into the hollow of his armpit and he squeals brightly, shaking his head desperately, tugging at his arm. "But okay, since you're so special to me."

The young Warden breaths deeply, chest heaving, as the Power pulls away from his armpit, sliding down over top of him, until his chest lays over his waist and he looms directly over his belly. He takes the feather, and sets the tip into his belly button, resting it there gently. "This, this has always been a special spot." He looks up at the younger angel under him, Thaddeus's eyes shine brightly, a smile resting over his features as he watches him, like he had been all that time ago, fun to play with and mess about with, a good sport, always up for a good time. "Do you know why this is a special spot?" He shakes his head lightly. "Because, this has always been the best for your sweet, sweet laughter." He flicks the feather gently and the young angel shrieks brightly. "This is my little giggle button."

He twists the feather around, between his fingers, and the young Warden squeals brightly. "Eeeieiiahahahahahhahahaha! Aahahahahahahahahahha! Nohohhhohohooohot theeheheheheherrehehehe! Nohohohohoot thahahahahhat!"

"Oh, you think this feather is bad, do you?"

Thaddeus nods his head frantically. "Tihihihihihickles! Tihihihihiiaiahahahahahhahaahickles!"

"This, is so much worse."

His eyes widen when he pulls the feather away, takes a deep breath, and buries his face into his belly, over his belly button. "EEIEIIAHAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAA! NOHOHOHOHOHO! EEIEIIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!"

"I told you this was worse, didn't I?"

"EEIEIIAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! YEHEEHHAHEHEHAHAHAHAHHEES! NOHOHOHOHOAHHAHAOHAOO! EEEIIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHIIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"I told you, didn't I?" He hovers just above his belly button. "This is my little giggle button."

"EEIEEIIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! NIHHIHIHIAHIAIAHAHAHAHHIIISSSS! EEIEIIAHAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHOHOOT THAHAHAAHHAAHAT! EEIEIEIAIHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!" He shakes his head frantically, pushing against the Power's head desperately, kicking his feet, drilling his heels into the bed under him. "NAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAA! EEIEIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA! NOHHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHORE!"

Nisroc smiles, looking up at him fondly. "Had enough of me showing you?"

The young Warden nods his head frantically, giggling softly still, and the Power chuckles, crawling off his legs, coming to stretch out at his side, laughing softly as the young angel curls up on himself, pressing his face into his side. "Do you remember now?"

Thaddeus nods. "I rehehehemember! We played like that all the time!"

"We did," he nods lightly. "Especially during bath time. Someone," he rubs his fingers through the young angel's curls lightly. "Liked making bath time rather difficult."

"I used to play with Gaddy like that too!"

"You did." He nods lightly. "You used to torture that poor boy. But he fought back rather well."

Thaddeus smiles, rubbing his nose into the Powers side, climbing up to lay under his arm. "Nis, can I have a snack?"

"Of course, Tadpole, what does your belly desire?"

"Apples and peanut butter!"


	157. Life Without Parole

He stumbled as he was dragged down the hall, it had all happened so fast, one moment he was stepping aside for the Morningstar, the Archangel's frequented the Garden often, it was nothing out of the usual for the Morningstar to come and request entrance, he did so frequently, the Garden was one of his prides, he spent much of his time inside, so he thought nothing of the matter when he stepped aside and allowed him entrance, and in the next moment there were guards there, forcing him to his knees before the Commander, his harsh gaze staring at him accusingly, accusing him of damning humanity, calling him a traitor to his own kind, he tried to speak his case, to tell him what had happened, the news that the Morningstar was exiled had been delayed to his ears, he hadn't known, he hadn't the faintest idea, but he would hear none of it, still, he called him a traitor, and his breath caught, as his sentence was passed down. There was no trial, no convening of the remaining pieces of the council, just sentencing.

_"For damning Humanity and letting the Serpent into the Garden, you will spend the rest of your days behind the bars of a prisons cell, with no hope of redemption. May Father forgive you for this deed because there will be none from me. Take him."_

He screamed, struggling against the guards holds, thrashing and kicking, begging for him to understand, to see reason, to just _listen_. But the Archangel turned away from him, he was done with him, he was dismissed. He screamed himself hoarse, tears trailing down his face, begging those that they passed for aid. Falling still, if only to look up at the high looming building, the darkest part of Heaven, where most angels went with no hope of seeing freedom again, it was in that moment that he knew he stopped breathing. He was going to spend the rest of his life within this place for something that he hadn't done, hadn't known to stop, for something that wasn't really his fault. They dragged him forward, down the hall of the Prison, the door to the outside world growing smaller and smaller, until it disappeared behind another door, his mind hadn't quite caught up to him yet, it was all happening so fast, and it wasn't until he was shoved into a cell, the barred gate slammed shut, that reality began to sink in again.

He ran forward, colliding with the bars, reaching out for them, begging them to come back, to just listen to him, let him explain himself. But his pleas fell of deaf ears, they ignored him, as they continued their trek down the hall, until they disappeared behind a door, and he was on his own, alone in a cell that would be his home for the rest of his life, for a crime that wasn't his.

His breathing became shallow, hurried, until he was choking on it. His fingers slowly came up to his throat, scratching frantically, he couldn't breathe, his vision was fading in and out, everything was becoming blurry, the voices around him sounded like they were underwater. He vaguely saw the form of someone standing before the bars of his cell, he couldn't make out their features, as he blinked owlishly and stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet, tumbling back, crashing into the stone cot that jet out from the wall, his head hurt now, the silhouette disappeared from view, darting off suddenly, he didn't care, he couldn't breathe, his chest was starting to hurt, his head hurt, dots were beginning to spin in his vision.

There were noises, there was two figures there now, one was hunched over, he could hear noises, far away and faint, was that the gate to his cell opening? Someone, two people, rushed into his cell, one knelt in front of him, he could make them out vaguely better then the other, who stood a few more paces away.

"Ga…Gad…You…Down….Going…Pass…" He was getting nowhere, he could barely make out what was being said, and the other seemed to register as much, as his hands curled around his cheeks, pulling him closer, his chin resting against his cheek as he spoke directly into his ear. "Gad, you have to calm down." He knew that voice, that voice always protected him, that was a voice from his fledglinghood, he knew that voice, that was the voice of his big brother. He reaches up, his hands shaking, pulling away from his neck, leaving the skin scratched and raw, curling into the front of the older angel's tunic. "Gad you're going to pass out, you need to calm your breathing, you need to calm down." He shakes his head, he can't, he doesn't know how, it hurts, make it stop. One of the hands around his cheeks pulls away, curling around one of his, it presses his palm firmly against the chest under it. "Can you feel my breathing?" He nods, deliriously, he's beginning to feel light headed. "I need you to match it, can you do that, can you match my breathing. Match and mimic it, I need you to do that for me, match and mimic." He nods again, holding his breath every time he inhales a frantic inhale, his chest pounds with his heart beat, his heads spinning, whether it be from lack of oxygen or the nasty knock he took, he doesn't know. He slowly calms, his breathing slowly evening out, matching the rise and fall of the other angel's chest. His visions still fuzzy around the edges, but its starting to clear away, there's a guard standing twice a pace from him, and before him, kneeling in front of him, is his older brother. His older brother always let him explain, always listened, and he began sputtering, trying to get his story out as quick as he could. The older angel nodded occasionally, listening to him as he spewed his story to him without fail or interruption, he was innocent, he was innocent of the crimes he was accused of.

"I didn't—I didn't-It wasn't—I—I—"

"I know, Gad." His hands are back around his cheeks, holding his head steady, their gazes locked together. His older brothers gaze is sympathetic, he hurts just as much as the younger angel does, Michael was too blinded to see what had truly happened. "I know. You're going to be okay, alright? I'm going to take care of you now. Everything's going to be okay." He slowly stands, tugging on his arm. "Come on, Gad, come on. Let's take a look at your head." He stumbles to his feet, collapsing against his brother's side, his arm curls around him securely to keep him from falling to the stone floor under them. Thaddeus leads him from his cell carefully, slowly, pausing briefly to turn to the guard. "Get him an extra pillow and some extra blankets. A new tunic. He'll have broth and bread for supper." The guard nods, leaving them to fetch what had been ordered of him, and the Warden gently helps the younger angel out of the cell, closing the gate behind them, and guides him down the hall towards his office at the end. The other Prisoners watch them as they pass their cells, watching as the Warden and the Prisoner slowly disappear from sight, as they enter the Warden's office and he closes the door behind him.

Thaddeus leads him to the cot along the far wall, sitting him on the edge, and leans over him, reaching back with the fingers of his right hand, examining the wound on the back of his head. He grimaces, touching a few fingers to the edges, Gadreel's hisses, but doesn't pull away. "You've given yourself quite the cut here." He smiles down at him as he leans back. "No stitches needed. A bit of disinfectant and some bandages will patch you right up." He pats his cheek lightly, stepping back for the cupboard behind his desk, riffling through it for a swath of bandages and a bottle of disinfectant. Gadreel watches him as he closes the cupboard door and crosses back to his side, wetting a portion of the cloth, he gently pulls his head forward, dabbing the dampened cloth over the gash on the back of his head. "Sorry, it's going to burn a bit." When he hisses in discomfort. He cleans up the gash and binds the bandages around his head, to keep any outside debris from getting into the open gash. He turns for a moment, pouring some water into the glass on the corner of his desk, and holds it up under his lips. "Take a few sips." He does, it stings his raw throat lightly, but he takes another sip greedily. "There you go, that's it."

The older angel turns again, depositing the glass back on his desk, and turns back to guide the younger angel back against the cot, resting his head lightly on the pillow. "You take a rest for a while, I'll wake you when it's time for supper."

"Thadd….Thadd…"

"I know, Gaddy, I know. It's going to be okay." He rubs his cheek lightly, pulling the blankets up over him. "I'm going to watch over you now. You're going to stay with me now." He rubs his cheek again, brushing his hair back. "You rest for a bit, your heads got to be killing you, rest for a bit and I'll wake you for supper."

"Okay, Thadd." He nods lightly, flinching as it makes the gash on his head twinge. "Okay. Thadd, I'm scared."

"It's going to be okay, baby brother." He brushes his bangs back again. "I'm going to take care of you. I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you."

"You promise, big brother?"

"I swear."

He's not sure when he fell asleep, but when he wakes up, to the gentle shaking of his shoulder, the sun in the window of the Warden's office has gone down, the rooms illuminated by a set of oil lamps. He's pulled a small table around for him, a tray of bread and broth set before him, a glass of chilled water to top it off. "Supper time, baby brother."

He stays with his older brother for the first couple of days, to make sure he doesn't fall prone to having anymore panic attacks, sleeping in his older brothers quarters for a few days after his arrival, before he's moved to his cell, he can only stay with the Warden for so long. Thaddeus always lets him out in the morning though, letting him come stay in his office with him or walk with him as he makes his rounds around his Prison. He sees him every night before he goes to bed, he makes sure he's in bed and tucked in before leaving him for the night, he takes good care of him, just as he promised he would.

Everything's going to be okay, that's what his big brother promised.

His first 'torture' session he goes through is terrifying, well, he thought it was going to be. As much as the others talked it up, he expected it to be horrible, but by Father, he hasn't laughed that hard in such a long time. His older brother knows all the right buttons to push, and when he gets his fingers on his toes, he can't help but become a squealing mess, kicking and begging for mercy that doesn't come quick. And when his older brother's done, he comes to nap in his office while he works, before being taken back to his cell at days end, and let out again come morning.

His brother swore to take care of everything and he trusted him.


	158. The Wall Always Wins

"Okay, explain to me what happened." The Power examines his hand, poking at the busted skin lightly, frowning at the soft whine it elicited from the younger angel, and tugged him into his room with a gentle tug on his wrist. "How did you come about breaking your fingers?" He guides the younger angel forward, sitting him on the side of his bed. "And, more importantly, does Titus know?"

"NO!" He shakes his head frantically. "Please don't tell!"

The medic frowns lightly, crossing his arms over his chest lightly, eyeing the young angel curiously. "Why doesn't he know?"

"Because he'll be upset and I'll get into trouble!"

"Tell me how you did this," he gestures to his broken hand. "And, I'll think about it."

"Okay." He nods. "I punched the wall."

That brings about a pause. "You did _what_?" Shaking his head, the medic pulls the chair at his desk around, and sits in front of him. "Sora, why would you do that?"

"Because punching Metatron gets me in trouble."

"Okay, I understand," he points a finger at the young angel. "But let me make one thing clear, you punch a wall again, and you'll be in trouble with _me, _understand?"

"Sorry, Puri." The young guard looks down ashamedly. "I won't happen again."

"No harm, no foul." Puriel leans over, pulling the bottom drawer of his desk open, and riffles inside for a few things, pulling out a swath of bandages and some small finger braces. "Just don't do it again. If you have to punch something, ask Nis to spare with you, punch a punching bag, try and punch Tus, just don't punch a wall." He straightens the guards bent fingers, apologizing when he whines softly at the soft pain, and slips the braces over them, ensuring that they keep straight, and begins wrapping the swath of bandages around his fingers and hand, wrapping it snug, keeping it in place and from moving too much, disturbing the busted knuckles as they healed. "I'd tell Tus, though, because, I'm afraid, he's going to find out anyway." He lifts the bound hand gently. "Can't exactly hide this too well, I'm afraid."

"I could wear long sleeves to hide it."

"Right, in the middle of summer, that wouldn't seem odd at all."

"You're right!" Sorath looks down at his bandaged hand. "What if he gets mad! I won't get to play with my toys _all _weekend!"

"I wouldn't say that," the older angel reaches forward and pokes his nose, drawing his attention over to him. "I'm sure if we talked to him, he'd be understanding, what did Metatron do that made you want to punch him?"

"He called Tus a bad name. I won't even say it. It was so mean. Saba got really mad and had to leave for a minute and Ra sat on Os's lap so he couldn't get up."

"I see, and you wanted to punch him?"

Sorath nods. "Yep, but I didn't, because punching him gets me in trouble."

"Well, I don't condone punching walls, because they always win, but I understand." Puriel taps his cheek lightly with his finger and leans back, for the shelf beside him, and searches out a small jar of little red pills. He shakes two out into his palm, holds them out, and passes him a glass of water. "Take these, they'll help with the pain and keep the swelling down."

The young guard nods, taking the two pills and plopping them in his mouth, gulping the water down as he swallowed the pills. Blinking a few times, he shakes his head, the medic chuckles softly. "Sorry, drowsiness is one of the side effects."

"You never said that it'd make me sleepy."

Puriel smiles softly. "I just did."

"This isn't fair! I'm sleepy now!"

"Hmmm," he thinks for a moment. "You slept with Tus last night, didn't you?"

"Mmhm."

"Good, come on, you need your dolphin before you fall asleep." He gently tugs the little guard up from the side of his bed, steering him out the door to his brother's room across the hall, Titus looks up from the paperwork he was working on and frowns, eyeing the bandaged hand closely. "What happened?" He stands from his chair quickly, crossing to the side before they have the chance to enter his room, and ushers Sorath away from the medic, towards his bed, and sits him on the edge, finding his bandaged arm almost immediately, lifting it up tenderly. "Sora, are you alright?"

He blinks, rubbing at his eyes with his good hand. "I'm sleepy, Tus."

"Okay, alright, let's lay down." The captain of the guards guides him around, laying him back against the pillows, leaning over to tug his boots off, before reaching over to hand him his stuffed dolphin, Sorath hummed softly, curling around his favorite stuffed toy sleepily, minding his bandaged hand carefully. "You take a nap, then, I'll be here when you wake up."

"kay, Tus." He nuzzles down into the pillow sleepily. "Love you, Tus."

The Power brushes his hair back. "I love you too, little angel." And turns to his older brother, eyes sharp as daggers, and the older Power raises his hands placatingly. "What happened, Puriel?"

"Woah, woah, calm down, I didn't do anything to him." He gestures to the bandaged hand. "I just patched him up."

"Then, what happened?"

"He punched a wall."

"He _what_?" Titus stares at him for a moment, eyes wide, astonished, and turns to look down at the little guard sleeping soundly in his bed. "Why in Heaven would he do something like _that_?"

"Apparently, to avoid punching Metatron, as it seems the little insect called you a rather distasteful name and it made the little guard quite upset."

"So, he punched a wall?" Titus rubs a hand down his face in exasperation. "What did he even say?"

Puriel shrugs. "Heck if I know, he wouldn't say, apparently it made all your little guards upset."

"I hate him."

"Join the club, little brother."

Titus looks down the sleeping guard, curled around his beloved dolphin, and sighs exasperatedly. "Thank you, for patching him up."

"Of course, I wouldn't be a very good medic if I let the little guy suffer with broken fingers."

The younger Power smiles at him in appreciation. "Is he fit to return to his duties tomorrow morning?"

"It's Friday."

"Oh, right, well," he turns to smile down at the young angel. "He can still play tomorrow, right?"

The medic nods fondly. "He can still play, he has to be careful with his bad hand, his fingers are still going to be a bit sore, but other then that he should be fine." He rubs at his chin lightly. "Might I suggest a puzzle?"

"Oh, he likes puzzles."

"Oh, he likes puzzles _with _rocket ships." He makes a show of examining his nails. "And, I was down on Earth recently, _and_, I just so happened to pick one up. Have to uphold that title of favorite uncle."

Titus tilts his head. "Favorite _uncle_?"

"Favorite. Uncle." Puriel smirks, glancing down at the little angel sleeping on his brother's bed. "That little guy is as good as being another one of your sons."

"He's our little brother."

"Ah, but your more of a _father_ figure to him, really, nothing to be ashamed of." The medic shrugs lightly. "If you're the dad, that makes us the uncles, and I happen to be the _favorite. _I plan to keep it that way." He gestures to his room across the hall. "So, I have a rocket ship puzzle all ready to be done tomorrow. It's a plan. I made it official. Clear your schedule."

"I—"

"Nope, you've got plans." He turns, leaving his younger brother staring at his back as he retreats to his room. "Night!"

Heaving another exasperated sigh, Titus turns, smiling down at the younger angel, to know that he looked up to him like a father figure warmed his heart. Reaching out, he runs his fingers through the sleeping guard's hair. "Sleep tight, little angel, I love you."

Sorath mumbles softly, nuzzling his cheek against his soft dolphin. "Love you, papa."


	159. The Warden's Return

"Alright, you'll stay with them for the day, you know your way around so I'll save you the tour, if it becomes too much you know where to find me, alright?" Thaddeus nods, staring at the door, unguarded, to the Prison, it had been some time since he'd stepped foot in this place, stepped foot inside and remembered stepping foot inside. "Thaddy?" He turns to the Power, nodding slightly. "Okay, Nis."

"Good angel." The Power pats his cheek. "I made sure to inform the others of the…. circumstances… beforehand so things should be different from how they were when you last say them."

"Thanks, Nis."

"Always, Tadpole."

He leaves him there, after he assures him that everything's okay and he can go back to his duties, Nisroc seems unsure but trusts him when he says he's okay. Silently, he steps forward, curling the fingers of his right hand around the metal door handle, and pulls the door open. He's been making great progress with regaining his memories, he remembers most of his time as Warden, before everything became fuzzy, and he hopes they remember him too, for how he used to be, before everything changed. He pulls the door open, immediately greeted by the two guards of the front entrance, huddled together and whispering, they turn at the sudden intrusion, staring at him with wide eyes.

"Thad….Is it true?" Aeshma steps forward, he remembers her, she always greeted him with a smile when he came down to make his rounds at the front. Temeluch sips at a glass of water but watches with apt attention. "Did she really….Do that?"

He nods, cringing lightly, he knows it happened, Nis and the Powers knows it happened, and they know it happened, but it's still hard to talk about. "It did."

"And…And you're back?" She steps closer. "_Really _back?"

"I'm back." He nods again. "I'm sorry, I didn't know I left." He huffs, at her sudden impact, and he looks down at she presses herself close to him, arms wound tightly around his middle as she presses her ear to his chest. "I'm happy you're back, Thaddy, happy that your _you _again." She presses herself closer, squeezing tighter, and he smiles, wrapping his arms around her in turn, resting his chin over her head. "I'm happy to be back. I've missed you all."

"The others feel really bad about what they did, they didn't know," she looks up at him. "We didn't know."

"Hey, no fretting." He pets the back of her head. "I didn't even know."

"Promise not to go away again?"

He hugs her tighter, pulling her closer. "I promise."

She smiles, hugging herself closer for a moment longer, and finally pulls away. Thaddeus lets her pull back, cradling her cheeks in his hands, and smiles down at her softly. "I missed you Aesh."

"We missed you too, Thaddy." She reaches up to curl her fingers around his. "Saba feels real bad for what he did, you have to make him feel better again."

The young Warden rubs her cheeks with his thumbs. "I will, I promise."

She smiles up at him and steps to the side, heading for the door, to take up her place on the outside. He watches her go with a smile, turning back towards the hall, Temeluch smiles at him from over the rim of his glass of water, and he returns the smile, stepping forward, rubbing his fingers through the tall guards locks. "Hi, Teme."

"Hey, boss."

"Ah, not the boss around here anymore."

"Sure, once the boss, always the boss." He pulls his glass down away from his face. "I missed you, boss."

"I missed you too, Teme."

"Are you here to stay, boss?"

"I'm always here for you all."

Temeluch took another sip of his water. "I'm happy you're back, boss." He nods towards the hall. "Go, cheer Saba up again, seeing him so down is depressing."

"I'll make sure to see to him."

"Good." Temeluch takes his final sip and sets his glass down on the small table aligned against the wall. "I'll get back to my post, boss, please don't punish me for being tardy."

Thaddeus smiles slightly, shaking his head in amusement. "See that you do and I'll think about it." The door guard snorts softly, shirking away when he manages to poke him in the side, smiling in amusement when the young guard snorts again and jumps forward, away from his reach.

He continues down the hall, towards where he knows the two high profile Prisoners are, where the other guards would be. He doesn't get very far until he's attacked from the front, someone jumps on him, hugging him tightly around the neck. Laughing softly, he wraps his arms around the lithe form, she giggles and presses her cheek to his.

"Hi, Ra."

"Thaddy! We're so sorry!"

"Well, it's not alright." He kisses her cheek lightly and presses his back against hers. "But, I understand."

"We hurt you! Are you okay? Do you have any bruises still? I'm so happy you're back! I missed you so much! It was so scary when you just changed! It was like you didn't even remember us! And then…And then—"

"Hey, calm down, take a breath." The young Warden leans back, pressing his forehead against hers. "Yes, you did. Yes, I'm fine. No, there aren't any more bruises. I'm happy to be back. I missed you too fairy princess, I truly didn't remember how close you all were to me, I didn't really remember myself." He rubs his nose against hers lightly. "Don't even think about it, I'm back, I'm not leaving again, that's all that matters, right?"

"Right!" The fiery little guard kisses his cheek lightly. "That's all that matters!" Rahab smiles down at him. "And, you're back to your normal self, right?" She stares him deeply in the eyes. "You're not still…_that _way?"

"I'm not. I'm back to my old self. The one that left you all different types of snacks and made sure you remembered to stay lighthearted. The one that always catches you when you jump up on me."

She smiles brightly. "I'm really happy you're back, Thaddy, I missed you so much!"

"I missed you too, fairy girl."

Rahab giggles softly and spies the older guard from over her shoulder. "Will you make Saba feel better, Thaddy?" She turns back to him. "Seeing him sad makes me sad too."

"I'd be happy to," he bounces her lightly. "I'm going to have to set you down first, in order for me to do so."

"Oh," she giggles softly and drops down from his arms. "Right."

Chuckling, he pats the side of her head softly, watching her bounce back to her stool in front of Osmadiel. He nods to the sleep loving guard, and he waves a few fingers at him, leaning back against the corner, his eyes half lidded, arms crossed loosely. "Hey, Os, getting enough sleep at night?"

"Never."

"Still napping on the job?"

"Always."

Thaddeus chuckles softly, nodding. "Very good."

He turns to the one he doesn't recognize, tilting his head slightly, he smiles at him warmly. The little guard shrinks back, scooting back into the older guard behind him. "Hello, I don't think I've met you yet."

The little thing looks up to Sabaoth for guidance, and he smiles down at him fondly, nodding lightly in approval. He turns back around, facing the Warden bravely, but he can still see the nervous light in his eyes. "I'm Sorath."

"Hello, Sorath," he waves kindly, smiling at him softly, he's a cute little angel. "I'm Thaddeus, you can call me Thaddy if you'd like."

Sorath smiles up at him shyly and, damnit, he does _not _think it's adorable. He does. This little guard is adorable.

He turns his attention to the guard behind him. Sabaoth stills when he notices the attention directed at him, and averts his eyes, glancing to the side.

Thaddeus crosses his arms. "I thought I already told you to let it go." A beat of silence. "I could give you a bit more convincing."

"I think I'm good."

"If you're sure."

"I'm pretty sure."


	160. No Room For Guilt

"Thaddy, I need you to do me a favor."

The young Warden looks up from the book he was reading, eyes meeting those of the new Warden, and nods in a sign to allow him to continue. Nisroc smiles at him, leaning against the doorframe to his room, arms crossed loosely.

"What can I do for you?"

Nisroc smiles, tapping his fingers over his arm. "I need you to see to Saba."

"See to Saba?" He slowly lowers his book, eyebrows meeting in concern. "What's wrong with Saba?"

"Well, seeing as you're returning to the Prison tomorrow, I told them of the….situation…..and he didn't take it well."

"Is he okay?"

The Power sighs softly. "He's drowning in guilt for what he allowed to happen to you."

"There's no reason to be guilty." He sets his book aside. "There was no way for him to know." He stands from where he's sitting. "I'm not upset at him for it."

"He knows. I told him as such. But it's eating him up on the inside." Nisroc tilts his head slightly. "Do you think you could help him?"

Thaddeus cracks his fingers lightly. "I think I can help."

Nisroc nods, stepping to the side slightly as the young Warden steps passed him, watching him make his way down the hall towards the Lounge, and shakes his head softly. He'll take care of him alright.

Thaddeus makes his way through the Lounge and down the stairs, to the right, and down the hall of the guards rooms. Temeluch and Aeshma's door is closed, they're both sound asleep by this time, they'd always been early to bed, not morning people, those two. Osmadiel's door is cracked, but he can hear the soft snores from inside, he's sound asleep as well, definitely not a morning person. He passes Sorath's room, peering inside carefully through the crack in the door, the candle on his bedside table is flickering away, casting a soft warm glow over the room, and he's sound asleep curled around his stuffed dolphin. Shaking his head fondly, he's fond of that new little guard, he continues on his way down the hall, for all his time being one of his guards, Saba's room has never moved. His door is cracked, and even from his place in the hall, he can hear the soft patting of feet walking over the stone floor, he's pacing, Sabaoth always paces when he's flustered. He pads down the hall to the cracked door of his target, curls his fingers around the edge of the door, and pushes it open silently.

Sabaoth is pacing, just as he knew he would be, and he watches him for a moment as he does, muttering to himself angrily, his head bowed, pacing back and forth across the length of the room.

Crossing his arms lightly, he decides its time to make his presence known, and calls out softly. "You're going to wear a path in the floor if you keep this up."

The guard spins around, eyes wide in surprise at having been caught, and his face burns red in embarrassment when he sees who's standing there. "Thadd."

"You never used to call me that. You called me something else." He tilts his head slightly. "What was it you called me?"

Sabaoth rubs at the back of his neck meekly, averting his eyes to his bare feet under him. "Big brother."

"That's right." He nods, tapping the fingers of his left hand over his right arm. "I heard you were _conflicted_."

"I'm sorry, Thad—" _"Ahmm."_ "Big brother, I'm so sorry, had I known what happened I wouldn't have let them do that."

"You shouldn't have let them do that, period. You know better." He pushes away from the door frame, arms still crossed. "But I'm not upset at you. I understand. It's okay."

"It's not, you're right, I shouldn't have let that happen. I was wrong. I betrayed you and your rules, I betrayed your trust, I betrayed everything you taught me, I—"

"I get it. It's okay." He steps forward, reaching out to grab the guard's shoulders, to keep him from continuing his pacing. "I wouldn't have known any of that anyway. For a while there, I didn't even remember who you were. So, I can't be mad at you. Not that I would have wanted to had I known." His hands glide up to cradle his cheeks softly. "So, calm down, take a deep breath, it's alright."

Sabaoth shakes his head, staring up into his brothers eyes. "It's not. It's not alright. I let them—"

"Hey, _hey,_" he shakes his head, curling his right hand around his mouth, Saba goes cross eyed as he stares down at it. "If I say it is, then it is, and I'm telling you it's okay." He leans forward. "Understand?"

He nods silently and the hand moves away from his mouth. "I'm sorry."

"Saba."

"I understand."

"Good." He tilts his head forward slightly. "So, you need to let it go, alright?"

The guard averts his eyes. "Okay."

"You refusing to look my in the eyes does not show me that you're letting it go."

He sighs. "I can't big brother. I just can't. I let them hurt you and it wasn't you who did any of the wrong doings. Not really."

Thaddeus sighs deeply, letting his hands drop from his younger brothers cheeks, and reaches forward to poke him in the belly sharply. Sabaoth yelps, backing away from him at the sudden assault, jolting when there's another sharp poke to his belly. His older brother follows him as he retreats, poking him in the belly with his fingers. "Have you let it go yet?"

"I ca—_Hey!" _He receives another sharp poke to the belly. "I want to hear you say you've let it go."

"Bu—_Eep!_"

"That's not what I want to hear."

"Tha—_Wait!"_

"That's _not _what I want to hear."

They back up together, one retreating and the other advancing, until the guard hits the edge of the bed and he tumbles backwards. The Warden follows him, poking him in the belly still, a bit more rapidly then before, and Sabaoth smiles, nearly silent giggles starting to sound from him, and he fumbles with his hands, swatting at the fingers poking into his belly.

Thaddeus is undeterred though, poking him still, digging his fingers in intermittently. "Tell me you've let it go."

"I cahahahaaahahan't!"

"If you don't, I'm really going to dig in, and I remember just how sensitive this belly is."

Sabaoth's eyes widen, and he shakes his head. "Plehehehehease nohohoho!"

"Then, say you'll let it go."

The guard finally manages to catch the fingers assaulting his belly. "I lehehehhet iihihihit gohhohoho!"

"Good." He falls down, flopping down beside him, tugging him closer. "We're spending the night together, because I missed you, and we need to catch up."

"I missed you, big brother."

"I missed you too." The older angel strokes his hair back, as the younger sidles up close to his side, resting against him lightly. "You've been the big brother yourself for so long, you've missed out on having one for yourself to turn to, you have one now, I'm back, I'm not going away again."

"I had Nis."

"Ah, but he doesn't count." Thaddeus rubs at his head lightly, scratching behind his ear gently. "He's more of the father figure in this relationship. That makes me the big brother and you the younger."

"I'm glad you are my big brother." He curls closer, looking down at he curls his fingers into the older angel's tunic. "I missed you."

He smiles, brushing his lips over the younger angel's temple. "I heard you've abused your role as big brother on some occasions. Now that I'm back, I can ensure you remain in check."

Sabaoth smiles slightly, tilting his head, to look up at his older brother. Thaddeus smiles down at him in turn. "You abused your role as older brother all the time."

"Ah, but I'm allowed, you, you are not."

"What?" His mouth hangs ajar slightly. "Why aren't I allowed, but you are?"

Thaddeus smiles down at him. "Because, I said so."

"That's not fair, Thaddy!"

"Unfortunately, baby brother, life is not fair."

The guard smiles softly, looking back down to his fingers. "I don't mind. I'm just happy you're back."

"I'm happy to be back." He rests his cheek against his little brother's head. "I've missed so much, and I didn't even know."

"But, you're back now, and that's all that matters."

"You're right. That is all that matters."


	161. The Guide Of The Guards

"Here, you'll need this," he takes the small journal held out to him by his younger brother, eyeing it with curious eyes, flipping through the pages of continuous writing. "What's this?"

"A comprehensive guide on the care and maintenance of the wellbeing of my guards."

"You have a list of rules for your guards, they're grown Tus, why would you need this?"

"Because, grown as they may be," the captain of the guards slides his sword into the scabbard around his waist. "They still need a guiding hand. Without a set of rules, they're run rampant." He motions to the journal in the new Warden's hands. "Read, learn it, love it."

Nisroc nods silently, there was no one who knew the guards better then Titus, if he said he needed to know these rules then he would memorize them word for word. Titus nods at him, pulling the strap of his bag over his shoulder, and taps the edge of the journal with a finger. "Trust me, learn them, you'll need the knowledge."

He nods, tucking the journal under his arm, and walked with his brother out of his room and down the hall towards the stairs that led from their home to the grounds below. He was going away for the next coming weeks on a mission, reconnaissance for them, there was no one better for the job then Titus. "They'll be well taken care of."

"They better be." He turns, poking him in the chest with his fingers firmly. "I love my guards. They better be just as I left them when I get back."

"They'll be just as you left them, I swear."

"Good."

He forgot to read the rules.

…

**_1._********_Sabaoth is allowed only two cups of coffee per day. No exceptions._**

"Alright then, I think everything's accounted for here." He smiles up at them all from over the clipboard. "Keep up the great work."

"Youtoosir." He turned to spy the oldest guard, Sabaoth smiled at him, and he narrowed his eyes lightly, was it just him or was the guard _vibrating_. Sabaoth was most definitely vibrating.

"Saba, are you alright?"

"I'mfine! Goodasgoodcanbe! Nothingswrongwithme!"

He tilts his head, looking to the other guards for clarification, Rahab giggles behind her hand. "He's on a caffeine high."

"What?"

"You let him have as many cups of coffee as he wanted." She giggles softly. "He's had seven. I'm honestly surprised he hasn't crashed yet."

Osmadiel nods, rubbing at his cheek lightly. "Oh, he will, and it's going to be nasty."

Nisroc's eyes go wide as he turns back to the vibrating guard. "Saba, no more coffee."

"Aw man!"

…

**_2._********_When Sora asks for tickles, do not say you'll give them later, you will inevitably forget. When you do forget to give him tickles, he will ignore you until you give them to him, so when he asks, drop what you're doing and give him his tickles._**

"Nis, are you busy?" He hums at the soft voice from the doorway of his office, not looking up from the files he's working on, and gestures him in. "What can I do for you, little Sora?"

"Nis, it's been a rough day, can you…Can you maybe give me some tickles?"

"Sure, Sora, give me a few moments." He gestures to the chair opposite his desk. "Take a seat for me." Sorath smiles, nodding as he crosses over to sit in the chair, fidgeting as he waits for the tickles he wants. He waits for a long while, long after the sun has set, the Warden makes no moves of halting his writing any time soon. His mood sours as he watches the stars begin to twinkle in the night sky, when the oldest Power finally looked up from the files he was working on, tilting his head to the side. "Sora, what can I do for you?"

Curling his fingers into tight fists, the youngest guard stands from his chair, turns, and walked out the door as silent as the night around them.

Nisroc watches him go, and sighs, reaching for the journal his brother left him, flipping through the pages. Upon finding that rule, he sighs again, setting everything aside, he goes in search of the upset guard. He was right, his brother that is, he had forgotten.

He finds the youngest guard in Saba's room, laying on his belly on the oldest guard's bed, pounding his fists and kicking his legs, the older guard laying over top of him, his fingers wiggling deeply in his sides. The oldest Power leans against the doorframe, smiling at the sight. "Mind if I join?"

Sabaoth smiles at him from over his shoulder. "Not at all."

**_3._********_Rahab is allowed only one small jar of jellybeans. She is not to know about the big jar in my wardrobe. She's hyper enough as it is._**

"Here you go," Nisroc hands the young guard a small jar of jellybeans, he had read up on the guide last night, he hadn't known that his brother had a large jar of jellybeans in his wardrobe, it had been amusing to find under a stack of folded trousers. Rahab bounced over, folding her small fingers around the small jar, and hopped back to her stool, humming as she plopped on in her mouth, smiling at the sweet taste, and picked up another. "Can I have two jars this time?"

He shrugs softly. "We'll see."

**_4._********_Osmadiel can sleep in one extra hour, or he gets moody, without his extra hour he is bound to get into an altercation with one of the Prisoners. Last time it was Theo. He only gets ONE hour, no more, wake him up._**

He nearly woke the young guard up, when he was tugged out of the room, the door closed softly behind them. Sabaoth shook his head, pressing a finger to his lips, listening against the door for any indication of movement.

"Saba, what are you doing?"

"He's allowed to sleep in one extra hour, only one, don't want him up any earlier."

Nisroc feels confusion overwhelm him. "What?"

"He gets cranky. He's never been a morning person. One more hour." He turns to face the oldest Power. "The last time he was woken up before that hour, he broke Theo's jaw, and all he had said was 'good morning'."

**_5._********_Make sure the spare key to the entrance is under the mat out front, Aeshma has a habit of forgetting her key and Temeluch will forget he has his on him, no key, no entrance. _**

They'd been waiting for thirty minutes outside the Prison when the Warden was alerted to their standing there, and he arrived shortly after.

"What's going on?" Nisroc looks between them all for clarification. Sabaoth presses his chin over Sora's head, the young guard wrapped around his front, his eyes were closed, he was sure he'd fallen back to sleep standing up. "Aesh forgot her key." He shoots her a glance. "Again."

"Hey," she points at him firmly. "Accidents happen."

Temeluch pats around his front. "I don't have mine either."

Nisroc resists the urge to facepalm. "There's a key under the front mat."

"Oh!" Aeshma smacks her palm to her forehead. "Right!"

Osmadiel and Rahab part as she steps between them, bending for the matt at the entrance, and lifts the corner up to reach the key underneath it.

Nisroc spares Temeluch a glance. "You wear your key on a chain around your neck."

"Right! I forgot!"

**_6._********_Sorath is to be in bed by eleven pm sharp. He needs a full eight and a half hours of sleep or he'll be cranky. No one wants a cranky Sorath. _**

"Sora, time for bed."

The young guard doesn't so much as spare him a glance up from his toy cars, as he races them around the track he's set up on the floor of his room. "No."

"Sora, bedtime."

"Not yet." He races his cars along.

"Sorath."

_"No!"_

"I got this," Sabaoth pats him on the arm when it appears he's about to lose his patience, it had been a long day of vigorous training, the sun beating down on them, he just wanted to go wash up and climb in bed himself. Nisroc smiles to him in appreciation. Sabaoth returns his smile in kind and pokes further into the room. "Sora, I got a new book about dolphins."

That catches the young guards attention, he halts his racing and look up with wide eyes. "You did?"

"I did," he nods lightly. "If you want me to read it to you, you better be in your pajamas and under my blankets in _five _minutes."

They watch from the doorway as the youngest guard rushes to put his toys away, nearly tripping as he hops out of his trousers, out of his tunic, and into his night clothes. They part as he rushes forward, dashing between them with his stuffed dolphin in his arms, and Nisroc shakes his head fondly. "Thank's Saba."

"I've got him." He pats his shoulder lightly, "Go take care of yourself."

**_7._********_Sabaoth reads to Sorath before he goes to bed, every night, two stories, every night, or else he won't sleep. Do not interrupt. If you interrupt, they have to start over._**

"Hey, Saba—"

"Another story!"

**_8._********_Make sure Sabaoth is asleep by no later than midnight, he is a deep sleeper, if he goes to bed any later, he won't wake up when he needs to. If he can't fall asleep, make him a glass of warm milk, it'll send him to sleep like he's a fledgling. _**

"Here, Saba, drink this."

This is the second time this week, Nisroc knows how well this works by this time, and readies himself to catch the guard when he downs the glass of warm milk, he gulps it down, and the effect takes hold. He wavers, his hand shaking slightly, and he quickly snatches the glass back, sets it on the bedside table, and catches the guard before he can collapse.

Guiding him around, he helps him down onto the bed, turning him around into the pillows, lifting his feet up onto the bed.

Sabaoth blinks a few times, smiling sleepily. "Love you, Nissy."

He smiles, rubbing his cheek lightly. "I love you too, Saba."

**_9._********_Sometimes Rahab does get sad, I know it's hard to believe, when she does, she likes to cuddle. Let her crawl into your lap, no matter what you're doing at the time, let her curl around you like a baby koala. If you don't, she will lock herself in her room and refuse to let anyone in until she feels better on her own. _**

Nisroc scoots back slightly when the door to his office creeks open softly, and clicks shut a moment later, bare feet pad across the stone floor, and a small, lithe body slips under his arm, sliding into his lap, she curls around him like a baby koala, and he sighs, resting his chin on her shoulder lightly. "It's okay, little sprite."

"I'm really sad, Nis."

"I know, hold on tight baby girl, it'll get better."

"I can sit here all day."

"My lap is your seat for as long as you need it."

She rubs her cheek against his chest. "You're the best, Nis."

**_10._********_ Osmadiel is allowed to nap while on duty, I know it sounds counterproductive, but he's more alert when he's asleep then he is when he's awake, so it works itself out._**

"So, you're telling me, if I throw this ball at him, he'll catch it?" Nisroc looks between them all, they all nod, even Thaddeus. "He's sound asleep, though!"

"Do it!"

"Give it a toss."

"He'll catch it."

"It's amazing!"

Sighing, and going against his better judgement, he throws the ball.

Sound asleep, curled into his corner, Osmadiel's hand snaps up and catches the ball before it can hit him in the face.


	162. Lost And Found

It was like déjà vu, it was happening all over again, thus far this was two little elects whom had been taken from them on a mission that wasn't supposed to involve anything too gritty, a few guards had come with them, recon, that's all it was, and then it had hit them, the attack hiding behind the scenes. They fought valiantly, being sure to stay as close to one another as they could, they were less likely to be easily defeated if they had someone to cover them when they fell back, but they were pulled apart, separated from each other.

He lost track of the little elect and guard in the movement of the crowd and the swinging of swords, and the battle at hand didn't stop him from searching them out as best as he could, but they were lost, gone from sight, having disappeared from right before their very eyes.

When the enemy finally retreated, they came back together, doing a roll call of each other and checking for any injuries that would need to be tended to, and it was then when they realized they were missing two of their own.

Titus was beyond himself, fretting a mile per minute over his missing guard, he'd brought the young guard along to see the Earth after their recon was completed. He'd just graduated into his ranks and it was supposed to be a surprise adventure for such an occasion. He searched the clearing thoroughly, his fingers curling in his hair when he didn't turn up anywhere, behind any of the trees or under any of the bushes, he was just gone.

Nisroc felt a sense of déjà vu at this turn of similar events, Sable wasn't the first of his little elects to be taken from him, the first was searching frantically for his guard, and he couldn't help but look over to him, watching him search desperately, cringing at the way his pulls at his hair when nothing turns up.

He turns to his Captain. "Nisroc, I can't find them!" Especially his guard, Titus adored his guards, they meant the world to him. He raised a placating hand, though it did little to calm the buzzing nerves around them, Titus hadn't even properly met their little elect yet, and they were going through the same thing they had gone through when he himself was taken. "We'll find him, Tus, we'll bring them home." He nodded in assurance, for himself and the others, and spared them each a momentary glance, this was not the first occasion of living through this for a few of them. "First, we must tell our Commander and then we organize a search."

…

Michael had been beside himself at learning another one of his young Elects had been taken out from under him, on a mission that had supposed to last a little over an hour and then they returned, adding on the new young guard, barely older then Sorath was, was adding salt to the wound. He was furious, putting together a search party immediately, and dispatching them out under the orders to return any findings to him personally.

It didn't take them long, as it hadn't taken them long to find the first Elect taken from them, just a little over a month, and they stormed the old abandoned factory just days after their finding it with all their force, leaving no survivors in their wake.

Michael left one, just a young thing, to return to its master and give them all the message as to what happened to those that took what belonged to him and thought they could do what they pleased with them.

Nisroc and Titus split off from the rest of them, making their way down a side hall fluidly, hardly caught up in the oncoming vermin that attempted to steer them away from the locked door at the end of the hall, it was only when the Captain decapitated one of them that they retreated, he wasn't amused, he wasn't enjoying the skirmish, he meant business, and would cut down _anything _that kept him from his little Elect. Titus stood slightly behind him, at his shoulder, watching as the others scurried away in terror at the fuming Power.

He made his way forward, stepping over the bodies littering the hall, the toe of his boot tapped the rolling head as he passed by, the other right on his heel, he raised his sword slightly, bringing it down over the chain locking the door closed, and it snapped, his sword going through the metal like a hot knife through butter. The chain rattled as it slipped from the long door handle and clattered to the cement floor under them.

Pushing the door open, the light from the hall flooded into the dark storage closet, turned dungeon chamber. There was a small hole, a perfect circle, perhaps for a vent or hose, cut into the far wall. Lowering his sword, as it was hard to see in the small dark room and he didn't want to knick anyone who didn't deserve it, he stepped forward cautiously, reaching out with his free hand, waving it slowly from side to side, feeling for anything in the dark room. "Sab, Sab are you in here?"

It was a redundant question. There was little reason else as to why they would be so against them reaching this room.

No response came to his call, not that he expected one, Titus hadn't responded verbally, other then yelling and screaming, when he'd first found him, he'd reached out physically.

His grace prickled in anticipation for the condition they'd find the younger angels in, he hoped for the best, but was preparing for the worst. Always prepare for the worst in these situations.

"Nis," Titus steps forward, touching a hand to his arm, and he looks up, following his outstretched arm to focus on what he was pointing at. He narrowed his eyes, it was faint, but it was glowing. It pulsed, like that of a heartbeat, against the dark backdrop. One, light blue, light, light blue, almost silver, he couldn't make them out clearly, but they were swirls, sigils even, and he knew what the pulsing light was after a moment of sifting through memories, his eyes immediately trailed to his brother's neck, to the scars that lay under his raised collar, and then turned back to the figure just a few paces before him. He knew the one who had that color of grace.

Titus recognized the amber, and they stepped forward slowly, making sure their boot steps echoed in the small room. "Sab, Sab it's me, it's Nis and Tus." There was a faint rustling of torn clothes, and the light from the hall came over a pale beaten face. "That's right, Sab, I'm here, we're here. I'm going to bring you home." He squats, his knees popping softly as he does, and reaches out to him slowly. "It's okay now. It's going to be okay." A small shaking hand reaches out too, slim fingers curl around his, and he squeezes them reassuringly. "Let's go home, Sab." The head turns into a neck, and then a set of shoulders, and before he knows it, he's guiding two slim legs around his waist, standing from his squatting position, his little Elect curled around him as tightly as he can manage in this weakened state. He can feel the trembles of his form, there's no way to know the true extent of the damage just yet, but they would soon enough, he doubted it was good from the trembling of his body.

His brother is having much of the same progress, caressing the cheek of his abused guard, large amber eyes staring up at him. "Let me take you home, Qas." The little guard whines softly, reaching for him like a fledgling does its guardian, and he lifts the small guard up within his arms in turn. He keeps his tone soft for the little guard's sake, but Nisroc can hear the sharp edge it sits on, seeing the runes carved into his guards neck, similar to the way his own had been carved into his own neck. "I want to know the one who thought of this sort of entrapment," Titus eyes the runes carved into his guard's neck heatedly. "I want to meet them personally."

"Let's just focus on them for right now."

The younger Power nods, pressing his cheek to the young guards in comfort, Qaspiel whimpers and curls around him tighter.

…

The Healer and his Virtues are waiting for them upon their arrival, he guides them quickly to a set of beds, covered in thick sheets to keep them from soiling the bedding underneath. The Healer orders two of his Virtues to hold them down so as he could break the runes carved into their necks. Nisroc holds Sablo's hands and Titus holds Qaspiel's as the Healer slowly does as he needs, carving the runes out once more, just as deep as they had been the first time, and slashing through them to break their hold. The runes on their necks are the worst of it, there's some whip lashes, a few pulled finger nails, Sablo's got a split lip and black eye, Qaspiel has a split lip and a broken cheek bone.

They sponge them clean, washing away the dirt and grime and dried blood.

Sablo reaches for the Power Captain after they bind his neck in bandages and wrap up his chest, before they can stitch up his split lip, but after they settle him into the bed more comfortably. Nisroc looks to the Healer for permission, and just as he had when it had been Tus in that bed, he slides in under the young little Elect, curling him in his arms, settled between his legs, he pulls him back against his chest as he himself leans back against the pillows. Sablo huddles against him, tucking himself under his chin, curling his bandaged fingers into his tunic. Nisroc rubs his fingers through the young Elects curls, comforting him silently, as he looks up to the Virtue Captain threading a needle to stitch up the little soon to be Power's split lip. "Oren will you pass me my jacket?"

The healer looks up, quirking an eyebrow at the strange request, but nods, reaching around his brother for the jacket hanging over the back of the chair next to them, and passes it to the Power laying in the bed with his patient.

Nisroc thanks him softly, reaching into the right inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a similar pendant that all Power's wear, he was going to give it to him at his induction ceremony, it wasn't quite complete yet, but there was no better time then right now. Especially after what he'd been through.

"Oren, I need you to draw a small vial of his grace, and a small vial of my grace."

His hands lower slightly, the Virtue looking down at him with raised eyebrows. "You _what_?"

"It's for tracking, we all have one, well, had, I gave mine to Akeelah when she was young." He looks down at the drowsy little Elect, brushing his fingers through his curls again. "It will lead me to them if they become lost to us."

"Okay, that makes sense…. But why his?"

"If he were to lose his, I could track him using his grace, instead of tracking mine."

Oren nods, understanding, they would need a way to keep track of one another if they got separated in the field. "I'll do it after I stitch up his lip."

He nods, gently pressing the young angel's head to his chest, keeping him from moving, as the Virtue kneels before them. They'd given him some tonics, so he's pretty out of it, but Sablo still stares at him while he reaches forward, flinching when he sticks the needle through one side of the gash in his lip and leads it through under the other side, loops the stitch, and ties it taught together, he does six more loops and ties it off.

"You did so good, little angel." Nisroc brushes his fingers through his curls once more, and Sablo nods against his chest lightly, he likes the feeling of fingers running through his curls. "Very brave."

Oren smiles at them, he thinks its amusing how the Power treats his little Elects, though he knows he has no room to talk, he treats theirs in similar fashion. He sets his needle and thread aside and takes up a syringe, he's an angel of his word and he said he'd do it, it's a good idea, perhaps they should take note on it. Nisroc holds his arm out for him, cringing slightly as the thick needle is stuck into his arm, the stopper pulled back, and watches as his grace is pulled from his vein, he's done this a total of six times, he was used to the pull at this point. The Virtue sets the syringe of his grace on the side table, and takes up another, he shakes his head when the Power makes to move the young Elect, and leans over slightly, straightening his arm out, and dips the needle into his arm. Sablo whines softly, twitching, but settles under the comforting hum of his Captain under his ear. He pulls the plunger back, taking in a small bit of his grace, and pulls the needle out smoothly once he's sure he has enough.

Nisroc thanks him softly, taking both syringes in hand, Sablo watches him silently, as he takes on syringe and sticks it into the pendant, pushing the plunger down, injecting the grace into the hollow stone, then does the same with the other. He sets the syringes down on the bedside table, Oren takes them and steps away for a moment. The Power carefully pulls him away slightly, winding the chain around the little Elects neck. "With this, we can track you easier, if anything were to separate us again." Sablo smiles sleepily and nuzzles closer, nudging the hand resting on his curls until the fingers rub over his head as he desires them to.

Titus slides under Qaspiel as soon as he can, the little guard staring at him imploringly, wanting the comfort of his captain more then anything, and he's glad to oblige. Qaspiel is a tiny little thing, a few inches shorter then Sorath, a pacifist, preferring peacekeeping over fighting, the reason he had chosen to be a guard over that of a warrior. Guards are peacekeepers. And he's been subjected to something none of his guards ever should be, not even the Prison guards had faced such an end during Thaddeus's unknowing reign of terror, but this one had, a young guard fresh out of training, he hadn't even been assigned yet, he was still searching out where to put him.

The young guard curls around him tightly, and he catches his hand when he reaches up to scratch at his neck. "No, no, Qas." He curls his fingers around the little guards, tucking his hand into his chest. "I know it itches, but you can't scratch at it, it'll make it hurt."

"Itches."

"I know, I know," he scratches lightly at his head, behind his right ear "How about I scratch here, does that make up for it?"

Qaspiel nods sleepily. "Like that."

"I thought you might." He scratches a finger behind his ear lightly and smiles, the young guard's purring softly, an involuntary reaction. "You're going to be here for a couple of days, should I send someone to get your stuffed duck for you?"

Qaspiel nods again, and he smiles down at him, scratching at his head again. "Alright, I'll have someone got get it for you." The Power pulls the blankets up over the sleepy guard, rubbing his cheek lightly before returning to scratching at his head. "You get some sleep, Qasy."

"Stay….?"

"I'm not leaving you, Qasy, I'll be here when you wake up."

Qaspiel nods lightly, his eyes fluttering closed, and after a moment his breathing evens out softly.

Titus rubs at his head gently, turning to his Captain, Nisroc is watching Sablo sleep, part of him wonders if he had done that for him when it had been him in this position. "I did." He blinks in surprise, his Captain flashes him a quick smile and turns his attention back to the Elect. "I could hear your thoughts, you're projecting, I did. I watched you sleep most of the time you were here. I didn't want you to wake up and be asleep when you needed me."

"And, I drugged him." They both look up at the Healer as he approaches, he stops first at the little Elect's bed, checking on the runes carved into his neck, to see how they were healing, nicely, they were healing nicely. Then, he moves on to the little guards, doing the same with him. "I drugged you too, so you both slept through the night." He turns a glare to the Power beside him, in the other bed. "And, I'll do it again, do not try that on me again. I'm not above drugging either of you. So don't tempt me."

Nisroc raises his hands placatingly. "I wouldn't dare."

"Good." Raphael smiles at him, turning back to the little guard, and rights the bandages around his neck. "You two better be asleep within the hour, things are looking as they should be, I'll be back. If you're not asleep when I arrive," he points a finger at them both. "I will _put _you to sleep."


	163. A New Puppy

"Tus, I have a new one for you." The Power turns away from the squadron he's watching at the sound of his Commander's voice, Michael smiles at him, then to the squadron, and raises the fluff ball he's carrying with him. It's a small thing, it's belly fits in the palm of his hand, a chubby little puppy looks up at him with bright honey eyes, a soft pink tongue poking out of the side of its mouth. His stern expression, the one he wears when he's training his feature warriors, softens into something kinder, something more gentle, as he reaches out for the puppy, he can't help it, when all his guards, the ones he's raises, most of the time it's the angel hounds (his brothers joking call him a hound whisperer because he's so good with them), come to him, they are the cutest little balls of fluff to ever be seen.

Perhaps he's a bit biased.

"And, who are you?" Those closest to him turn at his tone, watching their stern instructor melt at the sight of the puppy. "You're just a little ball of fluff." He reaches out for the puppy, scratching a finger behind its ear lightly, the little thing yaps softly and turns to lick at his finger. Chuckling softly, the Power curls his fingers under the chubby little belly and lifts the pup out of his Commander's hand, lifting the little thing above his head. "Aren't you just a cute little thing." The puppy yaps again, kicking its little legs, it's fluffy little tail wagging happily, as it leans down to lick his nose. "Yes, you are. You're a cute little fluff ball."

Michael smiles at them fondly, his Power is always enamored by the little pups that are given to him, that's why he's his go to when it comes to them, he does them so much good.

Titus chuckles when the puppy nips at his nose, kissing its nose lightly, he cuddles it down against his chest. The puppy purrs softly, rubbing its head against his chest, licking at his fingertips that stick up over its small furry chest. He turns to his squadron with a particular look and they all jump back into their training, and then he turns to his Commander. "Boy or girl?"

"Boy."

He smiles down at the puppy, leaning forward to kiss the top of his head, the puppy purrs louder and looks up at him, licking his lips lightly as if to return his kiss. "What's his name?"

Michael smiles down at the content furball. "Mihr."

He looks back down to the puppy resting on his palm. "Hello, Mihr, you're a fluffy little thing, aren't you?"

Mihr barks up at him, his barks are high pitched, it makes him even more adorable.

Smiling, Titus looks back up at the Archangel. "Has he transformed yet?"

Michael nods. "He turned on our way over, though I think it was involuntary."

"It usually is for the first couple of times."

He turns his attention back down to the happy little puppy. "Do you like belly rubs?" He turns the pup over, cradling him in the crook of his arm, and scratches a few fingers over his belly. The puppy barks brightly, yapping excitedly, and kicks his little legs when he reaches a particular spot on the side of his lower belly. "Oh, a ticklish little belly, most interesting." The puppy squirms, bending from side to side, rolling on its back in the curve of his arm, and catches his sleeve with its little teeth and tugs as sharply as it can manage. "Okay, okay, I'll stop, for now, we'll come back to it."

The Archangel smiles at the pair of them, rubbing a finger over the puppy's head, the little thing yaps and tries to nip at his finger. "I'll leave him in your capable hands."

Titus nods, hiking the puppy up to his shoulder, two little front paws rest over his shoulder and the chubby little belly presses to the side of his chest. The little tail wags in his happiness and excitement. "I'll take good care of him."

"I believe you will."

He leaves them, and the Power turns back to his squadron, calling on the captain of his training squadron to finish their round of training, and makes his leave when the young angel steps up.

The Power bounces the puppy gently as he walks across the Training Field, and the little thing barks happily, licking at his cheek excitedly. "The others are going to absolutely adore you."

He steps up onto the stone walkway of the Pavilion, making his way up the stairs slowly, he pulls the puppy down from his shoulder, curling his fingers around the little chubby ticklish belly. Nisroc is cooking supper when they finally make their way into the Lounge, and looks up when he catches the movement out of the corner of his eye, a smile stretches over his features at the sight of the little fluff ball. "And, who is this little guy?" He leans over the counter, holding out a small piece of cooked meat for the puppy, he takes it up excitedly, licking the Captain's fingers when he swallows it.

Titus smiles. "This is Mihr."

"Well, he's adorable." He scratches a finger behind the puppy's little ear. "I'll be sure to set out an extra bowl for him."

"We're going to go pick out our first toy."

"Oh, exciting!"

The younger Power nods, taking the first step down the hall, he sets the puppy down on his bed, and holds a finger out. "Stay here." The puppy barks brightly, sitting in the spot of the bed he was set on. Titus smiles at him, turning for the chest next to his wardrobe. He fishes out a few stuffed toys, and turns back around, setting them out for the puppy to see. "You can pick," he holds up a finger. "One."

Mihr barks softly, leaning forward on his two front paws to sniff the assortment of stuffed toys, searching out the best one, and settles on a stuffed fish, barking happily, he pulls it closer, wagging his tail happily. "Good choice." Titus puts the other toys back in his chest, and squats next to the bed. "Mihr, I need you to do something for me." The puppy looks up from licking it's new beloved toy, honey colored eyes meeting his, and he smiles. "I need you to focus on being a boy again, focus really hard, can you do that for me?"

The puppy barks, sitting back, his new stuffed fish between his two front paws. A moment passes and the puppy shimmers, changing between forms, and soon enough, a small boy sits there, same chubby belly, in a pair of knee-high trousers, and stuffed fish cuddled against his chest.

"There you are!" Mihr giggles excitedly at him, reaching up to be picked up again, and the Power obliges, scooping him up. "Let's go get some supper."


	164. I'm Busy Sora!

He was so excited, he'd gotten a new puzzle from Nisroc, this one had racecars on it, and he hadn't gotten to see Tus all week, he was busy now, taking care of the new angel hound, but today was the day, they'd do the new puzzle together, he wasn't leading his training squadron today, and it was his day off, being a Saturday, they could spend the entire evening together, working on the puzzle, and maybe partaking in some tickles, he was super excited.

There was a hop in his step as he made his way up the stairs to the Pavilion above them, the box of his puzzle hugged tightly to his chest, a smile stretched over his features, meeting the Captain and the medic in the Lounge when he steps over the final step. They share a smile, spotting his own smile, and nod towards his puzzle box. "Are you and Tus going to work on that?"

Sora nods excitedly. "I've been waiting all week! Being super good and not having any accidents!"

Puriel shares a smile with Nisroc, closing his book slightly, resting it on his knee lightly. "I'm sure he'd be just as happy to do that puzzle with you, what's on this one?"

"Racecars!"

Nisroc chuckles softly, rubbing at his beard lightly. "I thought you'd like it." He nods towards the hall. "Go on, Tus is in his room."

Nodding happily, the youngest of the guards bounces down the hall, the soft echoes of the others chuckles leading him, he's rather adorable when he's this excited. He comes to a stop outside his captain's door, smiling happily, and raises his fist to rap his knuckles against the wooden door. He waits patiently, nearly exploding from his excitement at that very moment, for the call to allow him entrance. It's soft, but his voice calls out, and he pushes his door open with his right hand.

"Tus!"

"Sshhh," his captain turns to face him, rocking the fledgling gently in his arms, and Sorath feels his excitement beginning to fade. "I just got him to sleep."

"Sorry, sorry," he changes his tone to a soft whisper, holding up his puzzle for the Power to see. "Can we do my puzzle?"

"Oh, Sora, I'd be happy to," Titus smiles at him softly, not seeing the shine starting to dissipate from the young guards' eyes, looking down to the fledgling sleeping softly in his arms. "But I've got to rock him for a few more minutes before I set him down, or he'll wake up, and then I've got to look over my lesson plans for my new trainees." He tilts his head slightly. "Next weekend?"

"But you said that _last _weekend." Sorath feels his excitement and happiness twirling down the drain as he lowers his puzzle box dejectedly. "You promised, Tus!" He fears as though he's not going to get a different response and that knowledge makes his eyes burn with tears. It's been three weeks. Tus _promised _this time. "I've been really good this week, no accidents at all!"

"Sora, I'm sorry, I just can't right now." Titus shakes his head. "I'm busy."

"But, Tus!"

"Sorath, I said I can't. If you keep pestering me about it, I'm going to take the puzzle away."

His throat swells up with unshed tears, his eyes are starting to burn from holding them back, he can hear the footsteps of the others coming down the hall, they'd probably heard the commotion and come to investigate. "Why! I didn't do anything!"

The fledgling in the Power's arms stirs softly. "Tussy?"

Titus looks down at him and shushes him softly before turning a heated glare up to the guard in his doorway, his tone growing harsher, raising in volume. "Now see what you've done! You've woken him up!" Sorath feels a tear trailing down his cheek and a warm hand curls over his shoulder from behind. "I said I can't, Sorath, now I've got to get him back to sleep, thank you. We'll do it _next _weekend."

"But, you promised, Tus!"

"That's it, Sorath!" He nods to the small table next to the door. "Set it down, you don't get to do it at all now."

"But, Tus—"

"_Now_, Sorath."

The young guard leans forward, another tear dripping down his cheek, his excitement quenched, torn from his chest with his heart, smashed up, and shoved back in, in broken pieces, and he sets the puzzle box on the indicated table.

"Good, now go to your room, think about what you've done."

Sorath sniffles softly, nodding as another tear glides down his cheek, and turns away from him, ducking under the hand on his shoulder. Nisroc watches him go with furrowed eyebrows, stepping forward to speak with the guard's captain, his _'papa' _in all but blood, trusting in his medic to catch the boy before he leaves the end of the hall.

Puriel does, catching him by the shoulders softly, lifting his head up with a finger under his chin to lay witness to the tear tracks slowly building down his cheeks. "Hey, it's okay," he brushes his fingers over the tear tracks to wipe them away. "I'd be happy to do a puzzle with you, I've got a few in my room."

The little guard shakes his head, sniffling as another tear drips from his right eye. "I don't…I don't want to do puzzles now." He pulls away from the medic, completely defeated, tears starting to pour from his eyes, and steps around him. Puriel turns, watching him slowly bob down the steps to the living quarters below, turning as his Captain makes his way back to his side, watching the little guards head disappear.

He turns to him for clarification, and the elder Power merely shakes his head.

Sorath turns off the stairs, puzzleless and rejected, and slowly makes his way down the hall, he stops at the door across from his room and knocks lightly, feeling more tears glide down his cheeks. It takes a moment, he hears bare feet crossing the stone floor, and the door's pulled open softly.

He looks up, tears trailing down his cheeks, a large warm hand curls around his cheek and pulls him inside. "Oh, Sora, again?"

The little angel chokes on a sob as large warm arms curl around him. "He _promised_, big brother!"

Fingers stroke down the back of his head. "I know, baby brother, I know."

The final straw for the little angel's big brother was when he'd come to him crying, again, because Tus said he wouldn't give him tickles after a really long week and he really wanted tickles, he'd asked nicely, he'd kept his temper in check despite the Scribes harsh words, and Tus had turned him away. He'd happily given the younger angel his tickles, he enjoyed giving him tickles, and set him down for a nap so he could do what needed to be done.

He made his way up the stairs to the Pavilion, Sabaoth ignored the inquiring call of his former guardian and the medic, making his way down the hall towards his captain's room. He pushed the door open without knocking on it and waiting to be granted entrance, Titus looks up in surprise at the sudden intrusion, standing from the side of his bed, the fledgling crawling over to the edge to watch them.

"Saba—"

Sabaoth ignored him, reeling his fist back as the Power approaches, and punches him straight in the face. Titus stumbles back, caught by surprise at the attack of the docile guard, stumbling back into his desk from the force of the impact, his hands coming up to curl around his nose as red blood drips down his chin.

He's seething, he doesn't care that he's attacked his captain, he clenches his hands into fists. "How dare you make him cry!"

"Wha—"

"Sora! _Sora!_ How dare you make him cry!"

Titus straightens, reaching for a cloth to hold to his nose. "He's been crying?"

"Of course, he has!" He throws his hands up. "He's come to you for nearly _three_ months; to play, or do puzzles, or build with his Legos, or for _tickles_. And you turn him away _every _time!"

"I've been busy, Saba, I'm sorry he's been crying, I just don't have the time fo—"

"Then, you better _make _some time, or so help me, I don't care _who _you are." He pokes him in the chest harshly. "I'll tear you apart."

"_I _made him cry?"

"Of course, you did, that little guy _adores _you, and you keep promising _'next weekend Sora' _and never deliver on your promise, always just promise after promise, enough is enough." He clenches his fists and shakes his head angrily. "If you don't intend on spending time with him then stop giving him false hope, it's heartbreaking and mean, and he doesn't deserve that." His point made, his message given, the oldest of the Prison guards nods and turns on his heel, marching out of the room, he wanted to be back before Sora woke up from his nap.

Titus watches him go, rubbing at his nose, it's not broken, but it's going to bruise. He meets the eyes of his older brothers and they share a nod, turning to follow after him, neither of them commenting to his defense on the matter. He hadn't thought about how he'd been neglecting the little angel, and that's just what he had been doing, neglecting him, he took the little angel in, took him under wing, treated him like a father does his son, like he treats Jordon, and he'd started neglecting the little angel, for _three _months.

"Tussy?" He turns to look down at the fledgling sitting on the edge of his bed, little legs dangling, stuffed fish clutched in his arms, looking up at him with wide uncertain eyes.

He smiles down at him, trying to be reassuring. "It's alright, Mihr, come here." He lifts the little boy up from his bed, curling his arm under him as he held him against his front. "Tussy has to take care of something, you're going to stay with Nissy for the next few days, okay?"

The little fledgling brightens, smiling happily. "Okay! I like Nissy!"

He smiles again, bouncing the fledgling lightly. "Good boy, Nissy likes you too." Adjusting his hold on the little angel, he moves him over to sit on his hip, and he crosses to his wardrobe, pulls the door open, and reaches in for the racecar puzzle he'd taken a little over three months ago. He'd never meant to keep it that long, and a bag full of new toys, he remembers the look that crossed the little angels expression when he'd come to him at the end of every week, expecting to get his new toy, as was their deal, and he'd been turned away.

Sorath had simply stopped coming after the seventh time.

Curling the strap of the bag over his free shoulder, he turns them towards the door, it's when he steps into the hallway that something catches his eye. Red and blocky, small, the paint starting to chip slightly. The toy robot he'd given Sora at their very first meeting. Sighing sadly, guilt beginning to swell inside him, he kneels slightly, curling his fingers around the robot, he stands with it in his grasp.

A little finger pokes his cheek lightly. "It be okay, Tussy."

He smiles sadly, guilt weighing his heart down. "I hope so."

Titus steps out into the Lounge, spying his older brother seated on one of the couches reading a book silently, he makes his way over, the older Power looks up at the sound of his approach and makes room for the fledgling as he's lifted and lowered into his lap. "Will you watch him for me, for a couple days?"

"I'll take care of him," Nisroc smiles down at the fledgling, and reopens his book, not sparing his brother a glance. "Go take care of your boy."

Nodding, he turns, heading for the stairs, and makes his way down at a steady pace. He stops first at Sabaoth's room, expecting to find the little angel in there, but the room's empty, so he turns to the room across the hall, this one is not. Sora's in his room, with Saba, the two of them working on a Lego rocket ship, Sabaoth hangs on to every word as he chatters happily, telling him about his day and what he'd done and how much he liked rocket ships.

The older guard looks up at the movement in the doorway, he doesn't smile at him, but he does smile down at the younger angel, brushing his hair back with his fingers. "Sora, I apologize, I've got to go take care of a few things, alright?"

"Oh," his tone takes on a sadder note, and he can see the fight occurring in his head guards eyes, knowing that his leaving was hurting the little angel even more. "Okay, Saba."

"I'll be back though, I promise." He assures quickly. "It's just a few things."

"That's okay, Saba, I understand."

The older guard smiles sadly, he's breaking the little angel's heart, and leans forward, pressing his lips to the side of the younger angel's head. "I'll be back."

Sabaoth pushes himself to his feet, stretching softly, and shoulder checks his captain as he passes by him. He knows Saba has nothing to do, he'll probably go upstairs and hang out with Nis for a while, but he'll be back, giving him this time to try and make up for his horrible mistake.

Sorath sighs softly, turning back to the instructions for his Lego rocket, and reaches for a yellow piece.

He clears his throat softly, his little angel turns to peer over his shoulder, his eyes grow wide for a moment, before narrowing, and then he simply turns away from him.

"Mind if I join you, Sora?"

"No, that's okay, you don't have to."

"But I want to." He steps forward slightly. "You gave me your robot back."

The little guard shrugs lightly. "It was your robot first. You can give it to Mihr. He's your little angel now." He looks back to the instructions and then turns to reach for a clear flat piece. "It's okay, I understand."

"No, Sora, you're still my little angel. Even though I have a fledgling right now. You're still my little angel." He holds up the bag, hoping that the younger angel will turn towards him again, if he hears the rattle of the plastic, he makes no notions of it. He doesn't turn around. "I got you some new toys."

"It's okay, I don't want them, you can give them to Mihr."

"But, they're for you, Sora, because you've been so good."

He turns a light glare over his shoulder towards him. "I was really good for _three_ months."

"I know, and I have no excuses, I let you down." He lowers his outstretched arm. "I'm sorry."

"You yelled at me." Guilt begins to worm its way through his belly. "And I didn't even do anything bad."

"I know I did, I'm so sorry Sora, I shouldn't have, you truly hadn't done anything to deserve it."

"You really hurt my feelings."

"I'm sorry, Sora, if there was a way to express how sorry I am for how I treated you, I'd do it." He steps forward again, stopping when another cold glare is shot his way. "Can I come sit with you?"

"No."

He nods, standing there in the doorway for a little over fifteen minutes, when Sabaoth returns. He takes one look at them and sighs, shaking his head sadly, the Power had really messed this up. He steps around him, squatting at the little angel's side, and whispers in his ear softly.

Sorath huffs but nods to what ever the older angel had said. "Okay, you can sit with me, but don't touch anything."

Titus thanks Sabaoth softly as they pass each other, the guard grunts quietly as he makes his leave again, and he sits in the spot the oldest guard had left when he'd left them for the first time.

The little angel ignores him as he sits there, cross legged, watching him work on his Lego masterpiece. He said he could sit by him, he never said he would talk to him, or let him help build his Lego rocket. Sorath looks down at the instructions and hums, biting his lip softly, turning to the litter of pieces between them, eyes skimming for the right one, frowning lightly when he doesn't find it after two glances around.

Titus leans over slightly, spying the instructions, and looks down to the scattered pieces between them, finding what they needed immediately. "Here it is." He picks it up, holding it out to the little angel next to him, Sorath glares at him and snatches the piece out of his fingers. "Don't touch it!" He raises his hands placatingly. "I was just trying to help."

"Well," he huffs softly, sticking the piece where it needs to go. "I don't want your help."

He nods, folding his hands into his lap, watching him look back down to the instructions and then over to search out another piece. He sticks his tongue out of the corner of his mouth in concentration, his eyes searching around and around for the elusive piece, growing agitated when he can't find it. He looks up at the Power critically, Titus knows he's far from being forgiven for his abuse and neglect, but the little angel still holds the instructions up to show him, pointing out what he's searching for. "Tus can you find this one?"

"Let's see," he looks down at the scattered pieces, rubbing at his chin lightly. "Right here." He points at it this time instead of picking it up, looking up to make sure the little guard saw where he'd indicated. Sorath smiles brightly, "thanks", and takes the piece up with his fingers, sticking it where it's supposed to go.

He waits for a moment. "Can I help you, Sora?"

He gets eyed critically again, before the young angel nods. "I guess." He sets the instructions down between them and gestures to where he's at on the list. Titus hums in understanding, looking down for the next piece, he picks it up lightly with his fingers and holds it out to him. "Here you go."

"Thanks, Tus."

"You're welcome, little angel."

Sorath turns away from him, but he catches the smile that crosses his features at the pet name, and it makes his chest feel just a tad bit lighter at the sight of it. "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, Sora."

"You hurt them really bad." Sorath picks up another piece and puts it where it needs to go. "I was good for the whole time and I came to get toys like our deal was and you said I didn't get any toys because you were so busy you forgot to go get them."

There's that guilt again, he feels his shoulder deflate slightly as he turns to look at the bag of toys next to him, he had forgotten to go get the toys, he'd only gone just that last week, he had meant to give them to him, but he'd stopped coming to see him and he was distracted by his new little fledgling.

"So, I thought, if you weren't going to keep your end of the deal, that I wasn't going to keep mine and I broke Metatron's nose and jaw." He cringes slightly, squirming in his seat. "Saba was really mad though, he made me go to sleep without playtime for three whole days, and he made me lay over his knee. It hurt. I felt bad for doing it after that."

Titus looks down to his lap, his little angel had been doing so good, and it was because of him that he had a slip up and got punished for it.

"Oh, baby angel," he can't help it, he reaches over, pulling the younger angel closer to him. Sorath doesn't struggle against him as he tugs him over to sit in his lap instead. He wraps his arms around his waist, burying his face into the side of his neck, Sora scrunches up slightly. "I'm so sorry, Sora, so, so sorry. I hurt you so badly and I didn't even realize it until now. It's just you and me, little angel, just you and me for the next couple of days. We're going to play and do puzzles and work on Legos and have tickles, so many tickles."

Sorath sits still, in silence. "You mean it?"

He nods, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck, smiling at the light shiver it produces. "I do. I swear. We're starting now."

"Now?"

He nods, kicking them back, away from the rocket ship structure, to keep them from breaking it. "Right now." He burrows into the young guards neck, and he shrieks softly, squirming in his lap as his giggles flow from him despite his attempts to keep them from coming. He blows a light raspberry and the young angel shrieks brightly, scrunching up his shoulder as much as he can. "Tuhuhuhus!"

"You know, you called me _'papa' _once, why don't you call me that?"

He knows the little angel blushes deeply at that. "Nohohoho!"

"Call me _'papa'_." He digs his fingers into his lower belly and the little angel squeals brightly. "Papa! Papa!"

"That's more like it." He nuzzles into the younger angel's neck. "Yes, little angel?"

"Tickles! Tickles!"

"Tickles?" He curls on of his arms up and around his chest, digging a few fingers into his left armpit, Sorath squeals again, squirming against his hold. "Papa! Tickles!" He chuckles, pulling away from his neck, resting his forehead against the side of his head. "Do you want to see what new toys you've gotten?"

He nods excitedly. "Yes, please!"

Smiling against his neck, he turns his head slightly, his chin brushing over the little angel's shoulder, as he reaches for the bag next to him, tugging it down and plopping it in the little angel's lap. "It's all yours."

"Really!"

"Every last bit of it, baby boy."

"Thank you, papa!" He digs into the bag, pulling out the toys excitedly, looking them each over carefully and happily before setting them aside to pull out the next. "You got me a rocket ship!"

The older angel kisses the side of his head lightly. "I know how much you like rocket ships."

He sets the rocket ship aside, away from the other toys, that's going to be the first one he asks to be opened and reaches back into the bag. "More puzzles!" Titus nods, reaching for the racecar puzzle he brought with him. "I brought this back too, little angel, I'm so sorry, we can do this puzzle if you want."

"Yes, please, papa!"

The Power chuckles again, nodding softly, he sets the puzzle box down next to them.

Sorath reaches back into the bag and smiles excitedly as he pulls out another stuffed animal, a penguin, and hugs it tightly to his chest. He reaches back in, pulling out a set of story books, he holds them up for the Power behind him to see. "Can we read these too, papa?"

"We sure can."

The little angel smiles, setting the books aside, petting the stuffed penguin in his lap softly, before reaching back for the rocket ship. "Papa, will you open this?"

"Of course, baby angel, pass it here." Sorath passes it over his shoulder, waiting patiently for him to open it, he leans to the side slightly to pull the small pocket knife out of his pocket, and cuts through the plastic straps and pulls it out of the box. "Here you go." He hands it back to him, smiling as he leans back on his hands, watching as he zooms the rocket around in front of him. "What do you want to do now, baby boy?"

"Papa, can we take a nap first?" Sorath looks at him from over his shoulder. "I don't want to be sleepy while we play."

"Of course we can, little angel, lets get all cuddled up and take a nap."

He helps the little angel to his feet, and climbs to his, guiding him to the bed. Sorath climbs up, hugging his penguin and dolphin to his chest, he waits patiently for the Power to climb in with him, and cuddles closer, ducking under his arm to lay against his chest. Titus hugs him close, scratching at his head softly. "Just close your eyes, little angel, papa will be here when you wake up."

Sora yawns and cuddles closer. "I love you, papa."

"I love you too, baby boy."


	165. Lessons Learned

"You punched me in the face."

Sabaoth peers over his shoulder as he hands his tunics on the closet bar in his wardrobe, rolls his eyes, and turns back around, unwinding the belt from around his waist to hang on the hook just inside the wardrobe door. "You deserved it."

"Maybe so, but that doesn't change the fact that you punched me in the face."

"I would do it again." He closes the door of his wardrobe and turns around, turning to face his captain more face on, and crosses his arms over his chest lightly. "I come back to my previous statement, you deserved it."

"I may have earned it, but I can think of a few other ways to get my attention, other then resorting to punching me in the face."

"I'm not apologizing for doing what needed to be done."

"And, I don't expect you to," he steps forward, pushing away from the doorframe. "I just want to make sure you think twice before doing it again." Sabaoth watches him carefully as he approaches, reaching out to him, and he jumps back in surprise when he pokes him in the belly sharply. "You should learn what I'll do if you decide to do so again."

"I'd do it again in a heartbeat—_wait!"_

"In a heartbeat, huh?" His finger manages to find that spot under his arms, that he's curled around his belly protectively. "You'd attack your captain in a _'heartbeat'_, would you?"

"_Don't!—_If you deserved it!"

"Perhaps I should deter that." He pokes two fingers into the tall guard's belly and he yelps softly, backing up a step away from him. "That's technically an attack on a superior officer. I could have you court martialed."

"You would never do that." He jumps away slightly. "You care about me too much."

"Do I, though?" He pokes him in the belly again, smirking as they come to stand before his bed. "I've already tried you," he holds his fingers out, prepared to poke him again. "And I've convicted you." He raises his hands, the younger angel watching them closely. "I've sentenced you."

"You can't do that!"

"Ah, but I already have, do you want to know what your sentence is?"

"I dread to ask," he nods his head cautiously. "What is my sentence?"

"I've sentenced you to the most memorable of punishments." He reaches forward suddenly, shoving the guard back over the bed. "I've sentenced you to torture," Sabaoth yelps as he tumbles back over the edge of his bed, waving his arms as he loses his balance and falls over backwards. "Torture by tickling."

"No!"

"Oh, yes," He climbs up over his legs, trapping him place, Sabaoth shoves at him and squirms. "The worst of all tortures." The Power looks down at his belly, admittedly, what is probably his worst spot to ever give some attention. "I appreciate you taking off your belt for me." He worms his fingers under the bottom end of his tunic, walking his fingers up over his bare belly, Sabaoth smiles, despite him biting his lip. "It makes this so much easier for me."

"Would it help if I said I was sorry?"

"It would not, though I do appreciate it," he leans forward. "And do you know why?" The guard shakes his head. "Because, I don't think you're really sorry, I know you'd do it again given the opportunity."

"I would."

"I know you would," he digs his fingers in lightly and the guard shrieks, arching his back, he's barely touching him, and he's already lost. "I know you really well." Sabaoth shrieks with laughter as he digs in harsher, and he tries to turn up onto his side, his captain leans over his waist, pressing his elbows in, keeping him in place. "No, no, you don't get to turn over, you take this punishment with no relief."

"Tuhuhuhuhus!"

"What can I do for you?"

"Nohohhoho! Nohohohot thahahahahat!"

He smirks, clawing his fingers over the middle of his belly, Sabaoth shrieks again, pushing at the hands under his tunic desperately. It does little to deter the guard's captain, as he wiggles his fingers down to his lower belly.

"Oh, yes, you get all of it." Titus dips a finger into his belly button and the guard squeals brightly, drilling his heels into his bed under him. "I can't believe you actually punched me, _you_ of all angels, I've come to expect it from Os, that wouldn't surprise me in the slightest, but _you_?" He shakes his head. "Never from you."

"YOohuhhhuhu deheheheeserveheheheed ihihit!"

"I must not be torturing you enough if you're still able to backtalk." The Power pulls his hands out from under the tunic, curling his fingers around the hem, and lifts it up away from his belly, easy access. "Let me step this up."

Sabaoth's eyes widen when he leans down, pressing his lips to the skin under his belly button, arms curled around his upper belly to keep him in place. "Nohohohohoho! Doohhhohohon't!"

"Take a deep breath, and," he takes a deep breath, puffing his cheeks up slightly, and presses his lips to his belly button, holding himself there. Sabaoth tries to suck in his belly. "Plehehehehehehease!"

He smiles at the anticipation growing in the younger angel, he can feel him quaking from it, and finally does the deed. He blows out a long vicious raspberry over his belly button, the guard jolts, jumping under him, he'd have jumped off the bed had he not been held down, screaming in laughter. "NOOHHOOOHOEEIEIIHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!" Titus laughs softly, pulling away slightly. "Now I know why Nis enjoys doing this to you." He looks back down. "Let's do that again."

Sabaoth sucks in his belly, desperate to keep him away from it, keep those dreaded berries away. "Nohohohoho! Nohohohoho! Nohohot ahahahahagaiaiaahahahan!"

"Yep, again." He takes another deep breath and buries his face next to his belly button, blowing out another long raspberry over the sensitive skin. "EIEEIIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHHAHAHAHAOHOHO! NOHOHOHOHO MOOHOHOHOHORE!" He takes another deep breath and moves over to the other side of his belly button. "NOHOHOHOHOT AGAHAHAHHAAIAIAIAIAN! NOHOHOHOT AHAHAHHAHAGGAHAHAHAHAIN! EIEIEEIHEHEHEHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHA!"

"Do you regret punching me in the face?"

Sabaoth nods frantically, chest heaving feverishly. "I dohohoho! I dohohoho, Tuhuhuhus!"

"Good boy." He pats his belly lightly and tugs his tunic back down. "I think you've learned your lesson."

The oldest guard curls up on his bed when the Power pulls off his legs, laying next to him on the bed, chuckling softly, he pulls the guard over to him, tucking him against his side. "I'm sorry I neglected you all. It won't happen again."

"Are you spending the night with Sora?"

He nods lightly. "I am."

"Can I come too?"

Chuckling softly, the Power nods again. "Sure, you can."


	166. Big Brother of the Big Brothers

Thaddeus runs his fingers over the fine oak desk, everything was still in the same place he had left it, a light coating of dust had settled over it, but nothing had changed. He smiles as he runs his fingers over the knick knacks that he had collected over the years. He runs his fingers over his cloak, the fabric still just as soft as he remembers it being, he lifts the cloak from the hook it hangs on and shakes it out, dust sprinkles from it, and he folds it over his arm, continuing on. He runs his fingers over the edges of the books he's collected, he remembers so much more now, he used to read to them all when they got too upset, the sound of a kind voice offered some semblance of comfort. He smiles as he picks up the lone long feather sitting on the edge of one of the bookshelf shelves, pulling it down to look over, it's still intact, the bristles of the feather were still soft to the touch and firm, he runs his finger down the ridge of the feather, watching the bristles move with the motion. He'd tortured a number of his prisoners with this feather, he'd abused poor little Gaddy's toes rather frequently, this had been his most favorite torture device. He'd tortured a number of his guards with this feather as well. He'd enjoyed this feather very much.

Humming to himself, he twirls the feather between his fingers, maybe it was time he pulled this dusty feather out of retirement.

Smiling to himself, the young Warden nods, turning from the book shelf along the wall and stepped out the door, closing it softly behind him. He makes his way down the hall, humming to himself as he goes, falling quiet as he approaches the group of guards, coming up behind the oldest of the guards, he runs the tip of the feather over the back of his neck. Sabaoth shrieks softly, the sensation catching him off guard, and he jumps forward away from the offending attack.

Laughing softly, he lifts the feather up for them to see, twirling it between his fingers. "Look at what I found?"

The oldest guard groans softly, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Why do you even still have that thing?"

"Because of your amusing reaction." He chuckles softly, holding the feather out again, finding it immensely amusing that the guard jumps away from him, holding his hands up as a barrier. "Here, Os."

The Warden tucks his feather in his fingers and shakes out his cloak, draping it over the guard resting back against the corner, half awake, half asleep, the guard smiles, pulling the cloak around him tighter. "I missed your cloak, Thadd."

"Get your nap, Osy."

The younger guard nods, cuddling down under the cloak, until all that is visible is the top of his head. Thaddeus snorts at him softly, shaking his head, Rahab giggles softly as she points to the feather in his fingers. "You still have the feather, Thaddy!"

He smiles at her, she's a bubbly little thing. "I do." He turns his smile to the older guard, watching him with his feather cautiously. "Who wants to see me use it on Saba?"

Sabaoth's eyes widen and he shakes his head. "No one."

"Oh," he shakes his head. "You don't get to have an opinion on this."

Rahab and Sorath exchange looks, a smile slowly spreading over their features, before both of them turn to nod up at the Warden. Thaddeus smiles at them, turning his attention back to the oldest guard, Sabaoth shakes his head, making a step backwards, and he jumps forward, catching the guard by the front of his tunic. They struggle for a moment, the two younger guards cheering him on softly, and he pulls him back against his chest, steadying him with his left arm curled around his middle.

He shakes his head, huffing softly when the Warden reaches up to steady him, and he falls still. "I missed doing this to you, Saba." He swipes the feather over the side of his neck, Saba shrieks softly, biting his lip to keep it from escaping. "Now, now, don't hold out on me, you know I always get what I want." The oldest guard shakes his head, and he tuts softly, curling the feather in his fingers and moves his arm down, digging his fingers into the guards lower belly. Sabaoth barks a laugh, falling into a fit, squirming desperately in his trap. "There's that laughter. That sweet, sweet laughter."

"Thahahahhahaaddy! Nohohohoho! Whyhyhyhy!"

"Because, they've shared some things with me, my dearest little Saba, and you need to be knocked down a few pegs."

"I dohohhoo noohhohohohot!"

"I think I'll be the judge of that." He turns them around, tucking the feather behind his ear, he curls his arm around the guards waist, to keep him in place, and digs his fingers into his belly more fully. Rahab giggles behind her hand and Sorath smiles smugly, Osmadiel simply sleeps through the whole thing. "Do you two think he needs to be shown his place?"

"I think he does!"

"He needs his big brother's love!"

He smiles, looking down at his little brother. "Oh, you need some of big brother's love?"

"Nohohohoho!"

"I think you do." He digs the fingers of both hands into his lower belly. "I really think you do."

Sabaoth chokes on a snort, bending forward at the waist, his older brother follows him, torturing his belly with his fingers without inhibition.

"Big brother has enough love to share."

"Thahahahahaaddy! Nohohohohot theeheheheehere!"

"But this is the best place," he digs a finger under his belly button. "It has been ever since you were that little fledging, barely coming up to my knee, following me around everywhere."

"I dihihihid nohohohoot!"

"You did too!" He chuckles lightly, moving his fingers to the sides of his belly. "You used to trip over yourself, holding onto my coat tails, crying out _'Taddy don' go!'_"

"You knew Saba when he was little?"

Thaddeus nods at Sorath, smiling at the little angel, as he lets up on his torture for a moment, letting the younger angel fall back against him as he heaved for a breath, his fingers curled around his wrists tightly. "I did, little Sora, we were both raised by Nisroc. Saba was just given to him, a small little thing, when I was first given the place as Warden. He was a small little thing, I used to carry him around on my shoulder, only one, he was that small."

Rahab edges closer, moving up to take Sabaoth's seat next to Sorath. "He wasn't always this big?"

"Oh, no, he was a tiny little thing. He didn't hit his growth spurt until his third year of training. He was always following me around, like a little shadow." He looks down at the guard in his grasp. "Isn't that right, _baby_ brother?"

"I did not."

"You didn't?" He smiles down at him, pinching his lower belly. "You weren't that little angel that was always calling after me _'Taddy, Taddy take me wi' you!' _whenever I'd take my leave?"

"No."

"You little liar." He digs his fingers back in and the younger angel shrieks, folding himself forward, and he follows. "It was a trick question, I was there, I _know _you did."

"Tahahahhahaddy nohohohhoho!"

"Aw, he called you 'Taddy'!" Rahab squeals softly, hugging onto Sorath's arm. "That's so cute!"

"Isn't it?" He spares her a glance before looking back down at his younger brother. "I haven't been called that in ages. Let's see if I can get him to say it again." He curls his fingers into his waist and digs in sharply. "Ask me to stop, Saba."

"Tahahahahaddy stohohohop!"

"Say _'please'_."

"Pleheheheeheaahahahhahease Stohohhop!"

Thaddeus smirks slightly. "Who do you want to stop?"

"Tahahahahhaaddy! Plehehehehehease! I sahahahahaid pleheheheheease!"

"I don't know, what's in it for me?"

Sabaoth is desperate at this point. "Huhuhuhug!"

"You'll give me a hug?" He loosens his grip slightly. "How can I say no to that?"

As soon as it's lose enough, Saba turns, throwing his arms around his older brother's neck tightly. The Warden laughs softly, wrapping his arms around the younger angel, cradling the back of his head softly, pulling him close for a moment. "I missed being called that."

"Taddy?" the guard mumbles against his shoulder, and he chuckles softly, nodding against the side of his head. "Taddy."

Sabaoth presses closer, whispering softly, so the others can't hear. "I missed you, Taddy."

Thaddeus smiles, whispering back. "I missed you, too."


	167. Osmadiel is a Big Mood

"Alright, Os, I want you to take around the new graduates and show them how this guarding thing works, your duties and such."

"I sit on a stool and sleep."

"Let me _rephrase_," Titus feels a headache coming on. "What a guard is _supposed _to do."

"Let me _'rephrase'_." Osmadiel looks around at the bright and cheery faces, doe eyed and so naive to the world around them and how much it actually sucked. "You pulled me away from my nap for _this_?"

"I did," The Power nods. "You need to pull more weight around here. You'll be fine missing _one _nap."

Osmadiel looks back to the group before them, making a particular expression, one of disgust and horror. "It's not even about the nap, though it pisses me off that you'd assume that." He turns to face his captain more directly. "Do I look like a frigging people person to you?"

…

It was just his luck that _he _would show up while he was the only one there to watch over their only two high profile prisoners. Saba had taken Sora to get some lunch and Rahab had gone to get a change of trousers after she'd accidently dropped Zachariah's bowl of soup on herself. He groans, his nap interrupted, and sits up, tugging his older brothers cloak down.

"Sorry, no visitors, thems is the rules."

"I will only be a moment."

Osmadiel resists the strong urge to stand up and punch him in the face, but Thadd was down the hall in his office, the door was cracked, he'd hear the commotion, and then he'd be in trouble for punching someone, even if they deserved it, while they couldn't defend themselves properly.

"Let me make this simpler for you," he twirls his finger. "You! Off my planet!"

…

Titus and Nisroc walked into the Prison upon notice from a passerby that there was quite a commotion going on within, there was yelling, and said yelling could be heard all the way down on the Axis below. It stopped them in their tracks to see the brawl laid out before them. Thaddeus yelling at Sorath, Sabaoth yelling at Thaddeus for yelling at Sorath, Rahab was trading heated words with Aeshma, and Temeluch was looming over her shoulder as though to dissuade her by mere presence alone.

It wasn't working.

The only one who wasn't involved in the all-out war, the only one sitting on their stool, smiling lightly at the scene around them was Osmadiel.

His voice floated over the yelling. "Chaos, panic, and disorder—my work here is done."

They watch him with wide eyes as he pulls Thaddeus's cloak up over his head and slumps into his corner.

…

Sabaoth was watching him, he knew he was, he saw the way he tapped the youngest guard on the shoulder, halting his chattering about his latest puzzle. Sorath looked up at him and he pressed a finger to his lips, hushing the chattering, the younger guard nodded silently, leaning back against the older guard behind him. Saba curls his arms around him, and goes back to watching the guard next to him.

Os's eye twitches lightly, fingers curled in their older brother's cloak, what makes the whole thing unnerving is how still he's sitting.

Metatron's been ranting, nonstop, for almost an hour.

And the sun had only just risen.

Osmadiel is losing his patience quickly, but he's holding himself together, Thaddeus is leaning against the wall beside him, watching the situation unfold with similar apt attention. Rahab scoots away from him quietly, not wanting to draw his unwavering stare towards her, away from the chattering scribe next to them.

He clears his throat, and the scribe falls silent, glaring at him through the bars of his cell. As stoic as one can be, tone completely even, he speaks. "Not all men are annoying. Some are dead."

Metatron shuts up after that.

Thaddeus laughs and ruffles his hair.

And, Osmadiel gets his nap.

…

If one were to ask him what he wanted to do on his day off, it would involve sleeping in, perhaps cuddling up with Thaddeus, though he'd deny it if ever confronted with it, and letting him rub his head while he fell asleep against him, just sleep, sleep in general, that's what he'd like to do with his day off.

But no.

Father had a _great _sense of humor. (He cursed him ten times over for making him put up with this.)

He was ordered to come down and help these humans, now he doesn't mind humans, he doesn't really think about them all too much, the only thing on his mind, most of the time, was sleeping. Sleep was his best friend. But these ones, they got on his nerves more then _Metatron _did, and that was quite the accomplishment, not a good one, but an accomplishment none the less.

All they did was _complain, _and _moan, _and _groan_.

Life wasn't fair, it was time someone told them that, it was never fair and it never would be.

All they did was demand their help, they never thanked them, never appreciated their help, their aid, they just expected it because they were friends with the Big Guy. (part of the reason he was cursing His name. The other reason? He was missing his prime napping time.)

The worst part of it, it was just him, him and Titus, he didn't even have his older brothers here for company. Sabaoth got to spend his day off the same way he always did. Sorath got to enjoy himself playing with his toys. Rahab got to draw in her sketch book and read her books. Aeshma and Temeluch got to play their board games.

But, not him, no, here he was, standing here listening to the stupid little mudmonkey complain and insult his family for no other reason then him thinking he was better then them.

He wasn't.

Thaddeus wasn't even here. He'd at least distract him from his souring mood. But he wasn't there. He was enjoying his Saturday.

He turned a stare on the human, his eyes bounced between him and the other angel, until they stayed on him. His chattering came a slow silence as he stared right back.

Osmadiel clasped his hands in front of him, putting on the most innocent look he could muster when he noted Tus turning in his direction. "And your crybaby whiny-ass opinion means nothing."

…

They really have to stop sending him on these missions to help the humans, he's starting to think it's some kind of cosmic joke, they're all just sitting up there watching him stew in it and laughing their asses off, he knows they are, and it makes them curse their names ten ways to Sunday.

It finally pushes him over the edge when the younger Winchester starts quoting the Bible at him.

He turns a dull glance in his direction. "The Bible was written by the same people who said the Earth was flat, genius."

…

Sabaoth has to hold him back, they'd learn, they'd all learn not to wake him from his naps. His naps were allowed and expected. It was concerning when he didn't take his nap. Titus would worry, Thaddeus would make him a glass of warm milk, they all knew how much he needed his naps. No naps made one very cranky Osmadiel, and no one wanted a cranky Osmadiel, so he was allowed to curl up in his corner under his older brother's cloak.

These new graduates would learn, even if it meant jumping back from the feral guard being held back only by their superior, Osmadiel struggled against them, reaching out. "Okay, okay! You know what! Un-screw you!"

…

"Os, you're not sick, get up." Titus stands in the doorway of his bedroom, the light from the hall shining in on him, and he hisses at it, hiding away from the light under his blankets. "I know what you look like when you're sick."

"I plead contemporary insanity."

"I don't think so."

…

Castiel's staring at him, Titus is facepalming, and Sabaoth is chuckling under his breath but trying to hide it behind a cough.

"Your suggestion on this matter is to _'Blow it up.'_."

Dean Winchester puts in his two sense, of course. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard come out of the mouth of an angel, and I've listened to _Gabriel _before."

Osmadiel glares at him intensely. "If you don't want a sarcastic answer, then don't ask a stupid question."

…

Sabaoth is technically the head of their little group in the Prison, well Thaddeus is really, but he's not always there and leaves it to Saba to manage them when he's not there to do so himself. That being said, there was only one time someone else came to fill in for him, he was sick and Tus made him stay in bed, he's heard that he was fought on that but nothings been confirmed yet.

He doesn't need it to be, he already knows.

That guy didn't last long.

He made one comment about him napping on the job.

Os's response—"I am sorry, I didn't realize that you're an expert on my life and how I should live it! Please continue while I take notes."

Then, of course, he began with how unimpressed he was, and of course that went over well.

"I can only please one person per day. Today is not your day. Tomorrow doesn't look good either."

…

"How are we feeling this morning, everyone?"

Thaddeus was much too cheery this early in the morning.

And he'd forgotten to bring his cloak with him.

So, he was left in the cold when he took his nap.

Osmadiel glared at him, he hadn't forgiven him for forgetting his cloak yet. "Today's mood: Bitchy with a chance of sarcasm."

"Noted."

…

Once again, with the hunters and their clan.

Now he knows it's a joke. He knows it.

"Deja Poo: The feeling that you've heard this shit before."

…

They all circled together between their assigned Prisoner's cells, Saba on his right, Sora on Saba's left, Ra on Sora's right, and Thaddy on his left. Rahab took a deep breath, looking between them all. "Did you hear what Ashmal said about Osy?"

Osmadiel feels an eyeroll coming on. "I love rumors. I always find out amazing things about myself I never knew."

Thaddeus pulls him close against his side and pushes his head down on his shoulder. "Take your nap, Osy."

…

Osmadiel is in a good mood, it's noticed as soon as he steps into the Prison early that morning, Aeshma and Teme watch him as he makes his way down the hall, swinging his arms slightly, a bit of a hop in his step. Rahab uncurls slightly to watch him enter and Sorath peeks out from under Saba's arms.

He spreads his arms wide, with a smile, and proudly proclaims. "Good Morning World! Your little ray of sarcastic sunshine has arrived!"

Thaddeus comes down the hall across from him. "Someone's in a good mood."

"Someone's in a _great _mood!"

…

Osmadiel resists the urge to throw his head back at this human's chattering, really, he hates his superiors at this point. Once again, a perfectly good day for napping, down the drain to these two buffoons.

He snaps his fingers and Dean Winchester falls silent. "Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until they speak."


	168. The Prisoner of Cell 397

"Thaddeus," the young Warden looks up at the call of his name, standing in the doorway of his new room is the current Warden of his Prison, Nisroc had taken things back to how they had been before things had changed, he didn't stand for torture, he didn't stand for his Prisoners being harmed, he treated them all with respect, but none could treat any of them in the same manner the original Warden had treated them. The new prisoners hadn't the faintest idea how the original Warden had treated his prisoners, all they remembered was the reign of terror, they shied away from him when he walked passed their cells. And it broke his heart. "I'm proud of the progress you've made. You've come a long way."

Thaddeus smiles, tucking the excess of his belt around into the loop, keeping it out of the way. "Thank you, I am happy with the progress that's been made, I remember much now. Some things are still foggy, but I remember more then I had when you first brought me out of there."

"I know you do." The Power rubs at his chin lightly, scratching at his beard gently. "I've been watching you. You're not as cautious in the Prison as you once were, you're as though you're at home now, your heart lies in that building and its inhabitants. You remember who you are and where you're supposed to be."

"It's my home."

"It is," he nods, smiling at the young Warden, the progress he had made far surpassed expectations. "That is why I am giving it back to you. I think you're ready. I think you've been ready for a while, I was just nervous, I didn't want to put it on you if you weren't ready, but I think you are now. The Prison belongs to you, it is indeed your home, and you deserve to have your home back."

"You're giving it back to me?"

Nisroc nods. "I am. It belongs to you. No one else fits it quite like you do." The younger angel smiles at him, rushing forward to hug him tightly, the Power grunts under the force of the impact, but chuckles, wrapping his arms around his grown charge in turn. "Go show those prisoners what their Warden is really like."

"I will! They're scared of me and I don't want them to be scared of me! What they know wasn't me! I'm not like that! I'm not!"

"They don't know you, Tadpole." He rubs his hand down the back of the young Warden's head. "Go show them who you really are."

…

He walked down the hall between the cells with two guards at his heel, looking into the cells as he passed them, they hid in the shadows from him, not how they used to though, this was out of fear. They were terrified of him; he didn't like that they were terrified of him.

Nisroc had sad to show them how he really was, who he really was, what he was like as Warden.

He stopped before the cell of a young angel, a lesser prisoner, here for miscellaneous crimes during the second Fall. He was young, barely older then the Powers Elect, curls clipped back, out of his eyes. He looked at him through the bars of the cell, frowning at his quivering form, he could see him shaking from here, and he was at least twenty paces away.

That just wouldn't do.

"This one."

The two guards nod, stepping forward, passed his shoulders. The prisoners eyes widen in horror, and he shakes his head frantically, as they grab him by the arms and drag him out of his cell. "No! _No! _Please! _Please_!" He struggles against their hold, tugging fruitless, digging his heels into the ground, trying to stay them in their path. He walks behind them, watching the whole ordeal closely, it breaks his heart, to see one of _his _prisoners so terrified of _him._

The guard on the right pulls the door to the back room open, it took him some time, but he'd scrubbed the place clean. The dust that coated the table had been thick, and the crusted blood on top had been thicker, it took him a few days, he broken down every time he saw the rusty colored blood staining the table and straps. They push him forward, onto the table, he struggles, tugging at his arms and kicking with his legs, but they manage to trap him, strapping his hands above his head and his ankles to the bottom of the table. Tears stream down his face as he looks around wildly, taking in the legendary torture chamber, where the screams came that echoed down the hall, they all knew the torture chamber, they all knew what happened when they were taken to the torture chamber and left to the Warden's own devices, for him to do whatever he felt like, they were at his whim. The guards nod at their Warden and make their leave.

Tears stream down the prisoners cheeks as they leave him there, and he braces himself, clenching his eyes shut as Thaddeus moves from his feet, making his way up the side of the table, he clenches his eyes shut and bites his lip and prepares for whatever is about to come.

He jolts when something rubs at his cheek, it's soft and smooth, and the touch is gentle, comforting even, and it doesn't hurt. He chances a peek, opening one eye just a sliver, and peeks out. He's rubbing his cheek with a cloth, rubbing away the tears gently, the Warden is cleaning him up, Thaddeus isn't hurting him.

The older angel smiles down at him. "It's okay." He rubs at his eyes, wiping away the tears softly, his eyes burn but no more tears fall. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Y—You're no—not?"

Thaddeus shakes his head. "I'm not."

"B—But—"

"That wasn't me. That's not who I am. I take care of my Prisoners. I would never harm them." He tucks the cloth back into his pocket. "I trust you know who Naomi is?"

The younger angel nods lightly, still unsure, but he'll see where this goes. Be prepared for anything. Be cautious.

"Enough said then. I went to see her one day, and, well, least to say everything changed."

"Y—You mean—She—She—"

He smiles slightly, rubbing his cheek, catching a stray tear with his thumb. "Brainwashed me?" The older angel nods. "No one was spared."

"A—And you—you—tor—torture m—me?"

"I'm not going to torture you, no." He shakes his head, then pauses, shrugging lightly. "Not in the way you're thinking anyway." He tilts his head downwards. "What's your name?"

The younger angel licks his lips slightly. "Ja—Jahoel."

"Hello, Jahoel." He smiles down at him. "How old are you?"

"Sev—Seventeen."

"You're so young," he tilts his head to the side. "Why are you here?"

"I—I stole fr—from the armory."

"You _stole _from the armory?"

Jahoel nods. Thaddeus pokes him in the cheek lightly. "Stealing is bad, Jahoel."

"I know."

"Then, why'd you do it?"

Jahoel averts his eyes. "I don't know."

"I see," Thaddeus snaps his fingers lightly to gain his attention back. "How long is your sentence?"

Jahoel sighed softly, biting his lip softly. "One hundred days."

"Alright, that's a bit much, is it your first time?"

The younger angel nods. "Yes."

The Warden nods. "I'll talk to Michael about it. That's too much for the first offense."

"Y—You'd do that?"

"I would," Thaddeus smiles down at him. "Tomorrow morning. For now, though, you're at my mercy."

Jahoel's eyes widen. "Y—You said you we—weren't going to h—hurt me."

The Warden nods assuredly. "And, I'm not." He reaches back, for the bun of curls on the back of his head and pulls forward a long slim feather. "I'm going to torture you with this, for a bit anyway, then I'll really dig in."

"Y—You're going to to—torture me with a—a feather?"

"I am." He runs his finger over the ridge of the feather. "I'm quite good with a feather." He tucks the feather behind his ear, reaching for the hem of his thin tunic. "We'll have to get you something a bit thicker then this, it's going to start getting cooler at night, perhaps an extra blanket is in order as well." He lifts his tunic up, and Jahoel's eyes widen as he pulls his tunic up over his head, he shakes his head as it's pulled up and over. Thaddeus smiles down at him. "Usually I like to keep you from seeing, but seeing as to how unsure you are, I'll let you see."

"Wh—What are you go—going to do to m—me?"

"Nothing bad," he brushes his stray curls back, the ones not held back by the clip. "I said I wasn't going to hurt you, didn't I?" He presses a hand to his chest. "I'm an angel of my word."

"Th—Then what a—are you go—going to do?"

Thaddeus falters slightly. "You really don't know, do you?"

The little angel shakes his head. "No."

He smiles softly. "Then, let me show you." He cracks his knuckles, flexing his fingers out, and reaches over his belly, resting a hand on either side. Jahoel looks between both hands as much as he can, before looking back up at the Warden, with wide semi curious eyes. "I'm going to do this." He digs his fingers in, and his eyes widen comically, he shrieks brightly and arches his back. "See, this isn't so scary, is it?"

"Waitwaitwait! Nohohohoo! Whyhyhyhyhy!"

"Why?" He spiders his fingers over to his left side, and the younger angel jolts, leans as far away as he can manage, but he doesn't get very far. "Because, I can." He leans over him, spidering his fingers back over to the other side, and Jahoel shrieks, jumping in his binds, leaning over to the other side as far as he can manage. "And, because I like to. It's fun. You need to have some fun in this place."

"Ahahahahahhaha stohohohop! Gehehehehet ohohhhoff!"

"My, my, someone's a bit on the ticklish side." He sounds amused, the Warden sounds amused, and he looks up at him, feeling a bit more comfortable when he takes note of the smile, he's looking down at him with. "This is going to be a good time." He spiders his fingers up his right side and Jahoel shrieks again, leaning away from them as much as he could. "You can wiggle away as much as you'd like, you slippery little thieving angel, but you're not getting away from me." He pokes a fingers into his armpit and the little thief lets out a bright, high pitched _'eep'_. "Oh, is this a particularly sensitive spot?"

Jahoel bites his lip, nodding slightly, and the older angel smiles down at him. "Interesting, let's see how sensitive it is." He wiggles his finger softly and the younger angel shrieks, eeping again, biting his lip harshly to hold it all back. Thaddeus looks down at him. "Don't hold back on me, that only makes it worse." He flutters his fingers over the exposed underarm and it elicits a bright squeal from the boy. "Oh, I liked that."

"Plehehehhehahhahahahahhhaessseeee! Nohohhoo mohohohore! Gehehehehet ohohhohoff! Gehehehet ohohohohoff!"

"You're a little thief, right?"

Jahoel nods frantically, tugging at his bound arm desperately, cackling like a madman.

"Will you ever try and steal from me?"

"Mahahahahaybeheheehe!"

Thaddeus smiles down at him, pausing his attack, and the younger angel's shrieking cackles die down to frantic giggles. "Do you know what I'd do to you if I ever caught you?"

"As if you _could_ catch me."

"Oh, ho, ho," he digs the fingers of his free hand in the captive angel's side and he shrieks, jumping against his bonds. "Snarky, are we?"

"Sohohhoorry! I'm sohohohorry!"

"I'd do this, if I ever caught you, and I _would _catch you." He winks down at the mess of an angel under his wiggling fingers. "I've had plenty of practice at catching sneaky, tricky little angels like you. I've had plenty of escape attempts, but none ever manage to get passed me, do you think you'll be the first?"

"I cahahahhaan tryhyhyhy!"

Thaddeus laughs at that, pulling away from him, leaving him panting on the table. He nods in amusement. "Yes, you sure could try." He reaches above him, and he pants, looking up to see what he's doing, watching him undo the straps around his wrists. Jahoel sits up, tugging his tunic back down into place, watching him lean over his left foot as he reached for the right strap, and then the left, he tugs at the toes of his left foot. "You came barefoot?"

"I don't have much."

"I'll get you some shoes."

He turns, dangling his legs over the side of the table, kicking his feet lightly. He stumbles slightly when he hops down, and the Warden catches him, steadying him before he can fall over. "Easy, easy."

Jahoel curls the fingers of his right hand into the Warden's tunic as he steadies himself out. "Are you going to put me back in my cell now?"

"No," the older angel shakes his head. "Now, I'm bringing you to my office, where you'll nap until supper time."

"Really?"

"Really." Thaddeus smiles down at him, guiding him around with a hand to the small of his back, he turns them around towards the door across from them. "And, nothing better be missing when you do go back to your cell."

"I make no promises."

…

He opens the door to his office quietly, reading through one of the files he carries with him, he'd taken in three new Prisoners in the last week, and he had some sorting out to do. He sighs as he closes the door, the room falling into darkness, and he walks expertly to his desk, turning the dial on the lamp, and the flame flickers to life, casting a warm glow over the room.

There's a slight rustle from his side and he jumps in surprise, there's a person sleeping on the cot in his office, one that had not been there when he'd left it the night before. Setting the files on his desk, he steps cautiously over to their side, sighing in near silent relief when he recognizes the tan face and brown golden curls framing his face.

Thaddeus kneels beside the cot, reaching out to brush the curls from the younger angel's eyes. "Jahoel?"

"Mmmm," the younger angel murmurs softly, his eyes scrunching up like that of a fledgling, woken from deep comforting slumber. "Wha-?"

"How did you get in here?"

He rubs at his eyes, curling back into the pillow under him. "I picked the lock."

"Have you been here all night?"

Jahoel hums. "Mmhmmm."

Smiling slightly, the Warden brushes his curls back, tucking the blanket up farther over his shoulder. "Get some sleep, little thief." Jahoel cuddles back down into the pillow. "I'll wake you for breakfast." The younger angel nods, cuddling down under the blanket, curling up on his side, curling his hands up under his chin.

He made a mental note to keep cell 397 unlocked, it was no use locking it when he'd just pick it open, he also made a mental note to figure out _how _he managed to pick his cell open. Crossing behind his desk, he takes the files back in hand, and opens the one he'd been reading once more.

The Warden was fond of that little thief.


	169. Telling Daddy

They come to stand before the door of the Healers office before she'd wanted to, she'd wished they'd walked slower, despite what her older brother said, she could still remember her mother describing the look in her grandfathers eyes when it was revealed that she was pregnant, how he looked at _her _whenever they crossed paths. He never referred to them as family, she'd never heard him speak their relation, and judging on his looks he'd send their way, he surely wasn't thinking them either. She didn't think she could handle that from her own father, she's only known him for three years, she wasn't as strong as her mother had been, her mother had been tough as grit, hard as nails, nothing seemed to phase her protective walls, they were impenetrable. But, she didn't have walls like that, she needed her father, it had been so long since her mother had passed on to the next life, that she relied on having another parental figure in her life, she needed him, more, she was sure, then he needed her.

The brother at her side squeezes her fingers comfortingly, assurance, and Andre was a warm presence behind her, at her left shoulder, he's going to face this outcome with her as head on as she was going to face it. He'd stand by her side, she knew he would, she loved that about him, through thick and through thin, even if it meant he lost everything, he wouldn't leave her.

Akriel smiles down at her gently. "It'll be okay, I told you, there's nothing you could do to make him turn his back on you." She nods silently, biting her lower lip nervously. "You swear?" He nods at once, there's no hesitation in his assurance to this. "I cross my heart. May I die a thousand deaths if I'm wrong." She smiles slightly, it gains him a slight smile, and she nudges his side with her elbow. "Don't do that, I'd still need you."

"Okay, I won't die a thousand deaths, but something nearly as much as that, may that come to me if I'm wrong."

She nods, a slight smile gracing her features, and she looks down, setting her hand over the small bump of her belly.

He squeezes her fingers again. "Ready?"

Taking a moment, the Nephilim takes a deep breath, and nods. "Ready."

The angel at her side nods in turn, reaching up to knock on the door, it takes a moment, but the call is immediate, and he reaches for the door handle, the lock tumbles as he turns it open, and pushes the door inwards.

At first, the Healer pays them no mind, working on a series of files for the oldest Archangel's newest recruits, they had to be medically cleared before they could begin their training, and that fell onto him. "Give me a moment." They each nod, though he doesn't see it, they're all sure he knows they did. How he does, they don't know, but he does. He jots something down on the lines half way down the page and nods, one file done, twenty four more to go.

Setting it to the side, he looks up, the Archangel takes one look at them and his question is immediately. "What happened?"

Iaso bites her lip, looking down, away from his eyes. She doesn't want to see them when he finds out, she doesn't want to see the same look that would shine in her mother's father's eyes when they saw each other, she doesn't think she's strong enough to take it.

She knows she's not.

"Iaso?" He's concerned, not angry, he's concerned. She's made him concerned about her. "Is everything okay?"

"Why…Why would you think something's wrong?"

He leans forward, resting on his elbows. "I can see it in your eyes." He tilts his head forward. "There is very little that occurs in my Infirmary that I don't know about, it always comes back to me eventually, I don't know what it is, but there is something wrong."

The Nephilim bites her lip again, nodding slightly, and finally looks up at him. Her eyes burn with unshed tears, it weighs heavily on her heart, what his reaction will be. "Daddy, promise you'll never leave me?"

His eyebrows come together, confused by the question, but answers none the less. "Of course, there is nothing you could do that would make me leave you."

"Even…" She takes a deep breath, building up her strength. "Even if I'm not marriageable?"

"_Marriageable?" _He tilts his head, not understanding, she's not being very forthcoming. "What does that have to do with anything? It's a rather archaic way of thinking, to be shunned if one isn't marriageable. Is that what happened to your mother?" There's a hint of sadness, a rather large hint of sadness, as he asks that. She smiles slightly at the question, he truly loved her mother, even though they hadn't been together long, he'd loved her with all his heart. "I know you lived in a patriarchal village growing up, was that their way of doing, shunning those unmarriageable?"

The Healer's daughter nods. "They shunned mommy. Her father disowned her, he turned his back on us, we lived in a small hut on the outside of the village, we were outcasts. I don't…...I don't want you to do that to me, promise you would never do that to me?"

"I don't understand why you would think I would, you'll have to explain this to me, I want to understand where this thinking is coming from." He leans forward, his eyes looking into hers, their connection unbreakable, earnest and honest. "I can assure you, my beloved daughter, that there is _nothing _that would make me treat you in such a fashion. Nothing at all. I will always be there when you need me, even if you don't know you do, I will still be there."

"But—"

"I rather don't care whether you ever get married or not, this is the twenty first century, if you want to be single all your life, I will support that. You do not rely on others to make you happy; it is one of your greatest strengths, it would not be something that I would find worth _abandoning _you over."

Iaso takes a deep breath, nodding quickly, and just spits it out. "Daddy, I'm pregnant."

He stares at her, Raphael's not sure he heard her correctly. "_What?"_

The Healer watches her press her hands to her belly, it's a bit more rounded, but it could be attuned to simply putting on a bit of weight, she had always been as thin as a twig, he'd be happy she was putting on a bit of weight. "I'm pregnant, daddy."

Raphael's eyebrows furrow again, he's at a loss for words, not sure how to respond to this revelation. "_You're pregnant?" _

She nods silently.

His eyes flit up to the young angel at her shoulder, his eyes narrowed. "You got my _sixteen-year-old_ daughter _pregnant_?"

Andre feels rather nervous all of a sudden. "Uummm…...Yes?"

Then his gaze turns to the Virtue at her side. "She's pregnant?"

Akriel nods calmly, unphased. "She's pregnant. I've given her a list of things she should start taking immediately. She's also going to come once ever two weeks to be looked over. Congratulations, grandpa."

"Oh, my Father," his eyes go wide in surprise, perhaps a bit of shock, and he looks down at his desk. "I'm going to be a grandfather."

Iaso bites her lip again, rolling it between her teeth. "Daddy, you're not mad, are you?"

He shakes his head, and she feels relief wash over her, watching as he stands from his seat and walks out from behind his desk, holding his arms open for her. The Nephilim lets go of the hand she's holding onto and rushes forward into his arms, they embrace her, curling around her carefully, but tightly. "I'm not mad, I promise you, just surprised. You had better come every two weeks for a checkup."

"I will, daddy."

"And, start taking what you've been told to take immediately."

"I will, I promise, daddy."

The Archangel pulls her back slightly, caressing her cheeks in his hands, smiling down at her adoringly and assuredly. "I will never turn my back on you. Not even for this. Never." He leans forward and kisses her forehead gently. "You will be a great mother. Congratulations my daughter, you are young still, we will help in anyway we are needed."

She smiles, sniffling softly, and jumps forward back into his arms.

Raphael curls her up against him, scratching his fingers softly between her braids, and looks up to the young guard, reaching up with the hand he had curled around the back of her head, leans forward slightly, and smacks him over the side of the head. "That's for getting my daughter pregnant."

…

They both knew that after they told the Healer they would have to tell the Power, he'd find out from them or he'd hear the rumors, and they deduced that it was best if he found out from them, if they told him, rather then him hearing it from someone else, so they went in search of him.

They didn't have to look far.

They found him in the Garden, watching his two boys play together, smiling down at them fondly, they saw the way his eyes always strayed back to the Prison guard, they knew he was one of his favorites.

Andre hoped that him being one of his favorites would spare him.

"Hey, Tus." His soon to be captain looked up at them, smiling at their approach, taking note of their holding hands. Nothing had ever been confirmed for him, but he'd had his suspicions, they were always sneaking off together. He was more observant then they gave him credit for. "We…umm…we need to talk to you."

"Okay, what do we need to talk about." He stands from where he's sitting on a tree stump and turns to face them, they come to a stop before him, the Nephilim looks up to his soon to be graduate and nods, smiling at him assuredly. The Power raises an eyebrow. "What did you two do?"

Andre looks up at him with a particular expression. "What makes you think we did something?"

"That look she just gave you. You know you can tell me anything," he nods to the Nephilim. "Why else would she need to reassure you."

The young trainee groans softly. "Damn you and your eagle eyes."

"Language," he gets rebuffed gently. "There are young ears nearby." Titus crosses his arms loosely and looks between them both. "Out with it. You've got me curious now."

The younger angel clears his throat lightly, rubbing at the back of his neck in sheepish fashion. "Well, you know how angels can get humans pregnant?"

"Yesss." It doesn't seem to register for him at first, so Andre nods towards the girl at his side, shooting her a pointed look. For all his observational skills, it still takes him a moment to wrap his mind around it, and when it dawns on him, they know. The Power's eyes widen widely, his mouth falling open in shock, he looks between them both in surprise. "You got…. She's…. You two…." He shakes his head as though to clear his thoughts. "_What_?"

"She's—"

"I'm pregnant." Titus's eyes flit from his young charge to the Nephilim holding onto his hand, standing at his side, eyes still just as wide as they had been while he was staring at his young guard. "And, he's the dad." She gestures to the boy holding onto her hand, standing at her side, Andre smiles slightly, nodding along.

He looks back to the boy. "You did _what_?" He uncurls his left arm and presses his hand to the his left cheek. "You're both so _young_," the older angel looks between them both. "Are you sure you're ready?" He curls his arm back around again. "Having a little one to take care of is a large responsibility."

"Well, we're not _really _ready." Andre looks down at the Healer's daughter, she looks up at him and smiles, pressing close to his side. "But are there first-time parents who are?"

"Point taken." He smiles at them both. "Congratulations." Opening his arms for the Nephilim, and she steps forward, letting him fold her into his embrace. Andre watches them closely, watches _him _closely. "You're not mad?"

"No, why would I be mad?" The Power looks up at him. "Even if you weren't planned for it, I trust you two will take the best of care when it comes to the little one."

Iaso smiles against his chest. "Thanks, Uncle Tus."

"Always, little Ia." Though, he does reach forward, smacking his young guard over the side of the head. "That's for getting her pregnant."

"Oh, come on!" Andre rubs his head and throws his hands up in the air. "Not you too!"


	170. Making Amends

He was nervous, when Nis had finally made the arrangements for him to finally get together with Gadreel, he had explained to him what had happened, how he had panicked when he'd been locked back in the Prison without anyone knowing, how his panic attack had caused him to take extremely drastic measures, how he had made his own grace implode, and that was why that particular portion of the Prison was currently in the process of being rebuilt. He explained to him the severity of his injuries, how most had healed, but his legs were taking more time to heal then everything else, how he was still stuck in those braces that prevented him from bending his legs, they stuck straight out without change.

He prepared himself to see what had become of the panic that had set in from being in _his _Prison, a panic that had been instilled by him, and he briefly wondered why he had agreed for this meeting to take place. He knows that Titus had asked Gadreel if he was okay with it, and obviously he had answered in the positive, perhaps a bit hesitantly, he was sure, but he'd said it was alright, and so here they were.

Thaddeus waited outside the door of the bedroom that the Sentry had been made up, Nisroc had stepped in before him, cracking the door behind him, so that he couldn't be seen just yet. He could hear him talking softly, explaining everything to the younger angel bound to his bed involuntarily, Titus spoke up after him, he couldn't hear what was being said, they were speaking too softly. There was a brief pause of silence. And then Gadreel spoke. His voice was small, it shook softly from nerves, it made his heart clench that he was so nervous, so frightened, of _him, _he spoke for only a moment, his voice only a small whisper, he couldn't make out what was being said.

And then there was silence.

He looked up as the door was pulled open, Nisroc smiled at him softly, encouragingly, he knew that they both still loved each other, they loved each other dearly, there was just some obstacles that had to be worked through before they could come together again. Titus watched him, a slight smile playing at his lips, from where he was leaning back against the desk, his arms crossed loosely, nodding for him to step into the room.

Thaddeus stepped in cautiously, freezing at the sharp intake of a breath from the left, and he turned to see him, there he was, his little, baby brother, laying prone in his bed, legs strapped securely in those straight braces. He watched him with wide, terrified eyes, shaking in fright, he vibrated where he sat, quivering as he stared up at him. It made his heart break into tiny little pieces, like the some of the bones in the Sentry's legs, the Healer was giving him potions that would rebuild the bones again, but it was going to take time. Lots and lots of time.

He stood frozen in his spot, feeling the eyes of the two Powers on his back, watching them with the eyes of an eagle, waiting for the moment to jump in, intervene, if the need arose for either of them. It was something that would be trying for the both of them, Thaddeus remembered vaguely of his doings, Gadreel remembered clear as day, their hearts were broken for the same reason but with varying degrees of remembrance.

"Gaddy," he called out softly, flinching when the young Sentry flinched at the sound of his voice, he didn't miss the way he shrunk in on himself, no one in the room did. "Gaddy, I'm so sorry. So, so sorry."

He can see the shine of the tears as they well up in the younger angel's eyes, his voice cracked when he finally found it, and it was still as soft as a whisper, it was only because of the silence at his back that he heard it. "Y—You prom—promised to pro—protect m—me." He felt tears well up in his own eyes as the younger angel, his baby brother, the one he loved with all his heart, his little Gaddy, stuttered in his consuming fear. "Y—You sa—said you wo—would ta—take care—care of m—me."

His own voice cracks. "I know. I—I know I did. I re—remember now. I remember what I did. Vaguely." He takes a small step forward and the younger sentry flinches away from his approach. "I'm so, so, so sorry, Gaddy, for what I did to you. There's nothing I can do to make it up to you, it's unspeakable what I did, all I can say is how sorry I am."

"Y—You hurt m—me. You hu—hurt me re—really bad. I—I have so ma—many sc—scars now." Tears finally spill over, spilling down his cheeks, as he chokes on a sob. That's what breaks his statue-esque freeze, and he rushes forward, taking note of the way he shrinks back, as much as he can with his legs immobile, but pushes it down in favor of getting to his side, showing him that he's back, he's his old self again, he's not that monster anymore. He sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out, ignoring the harsh flinch away from him, and curls his fingers around his cheeks, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. "No, no, don't cry. It's okay. It's going to be okay. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you. I don't know how, but I will, I'll live everyday trying to."

Gadreel chokes on a sob, looking up at him, his eyes shining with unshed tears, his cheeks still cradled in his older brother's hands. "Is—Is it t—true? Did—Did sh—she really do—do tha—that to you—you? D—Did it re—really ha—happen?"

Thaddeus nods, wiping away the tears that continue to fall. "It did, it really did, I don't remember it, but that's what everyone is saying. I'm so sorry, Gaddy, I love you so much. I would have never have willingly done that to you, never, not even on my worst days. I hurt you, I hurt you terribly, and I can never take that back, no matter how much I want to." He leans forward then, pressing their foreheads together, Gadreel stares up at him with wide eyes, swallowing sob after sob, wanting to hear him, what he had to say. "If I could turn back time, I would turn it back in a heartbeat, I would protect you, like I promised, I would never have gone to see Naomi. I would have stayed with you, I wouldn't have gone, I'd never have let that all happen. Never. If I had known. I wouldn't have gone. I wouldn't have let that happen to you."

"Y—You swear?" Gadreel speaks through a sob, shaking like a leaf even still, though his flinching has come to a brief stop, he hopes it doesn't pick up again, but he knows it probably will. "Y—You pr—promise?"

"I swear. I never would have hurt you. _Never_." He smiles down at him, brushing their noses together, staring right back into his eyes. "I love you so much, Gaddy. With all my heart. You're my baby brother. I was there when you were just a small fledgling. I helped take care of you. You used to ride around on my shoulders. We used to play all sorts of games together. You mean the world to me." He looks him in the eyes, wanting to make sure he feels his conviction, how honest he's being. "I never want to see you hurt. Never. Especially by my hand. I'm here to protect you, to take care of you, never to harm you."

Gadreel stares at him, looking between his eyes, trying to find fault in his words, in his conviction, and when he finds none, his eyes begin to water again. His eyes clench closed as his face scrunches up, tears spilling down his cheeks again, a rough sob tearing from his throat. All that pain and anguish at what had been done by his older brother's hands finally spilling out.

The young Warden stares at him for a moment, his heart crumbling to pieces once more, but he pushes on, he pushes forward, now's not the time for him to break down too. He could do that later, when he was alone, hidden away in his room, away from prying eyes, that's when he could break down too, but not now. Now, his baby brother needed him, he needed him to take care of him, and he would, he's keep that promise he'd made all that time ago. He'd always take care of his little Gaddy.

"It's okay, come here, it's okay. I've got you. You're okay." He pulls him close, curling his fingers back around the back of his neck, pulling him into his shoulder. Gadreel breaths out sobs, tentatively curling his arms around the older angel, curling his fingers tightly into his tunic, balling it into his fists, as he sobs brokenly into the older angel's shoulder. Thaddeus curls around him, as though to protect him from the outside world, to keep him from being seen, to hide him from the outside world. "It's okay, Gaddy, it's okay." He curls his right arm around his back, holding him close, and strokes his hand down the back of his head. Rubbing his fingers through his curls, scratching at the back of his head, whispering down to him soothingly. "It's okay, you're okay, everything's okay. Big brother's here. He's got you. You're safe. I'll protect you. I'm here."

Behind them, the two Powers watch the scene unfold, and trusting that they weren't going to be needed, Titus taps his older brother on the arm, gesturing towards the door when he turns to look down at him. Nisroc nods, turning quietly, making his way to the door and pulling it open silently, sparing the two of them one last glance, he steps out, Titus following behind him, and he closes the door softly behind him. They'll be across the hall, listening closely, in the younger Power's room, but letting them have this private moment.

The two of them don't notice that the two Powers have left them, too wrapped up in each other, as Gadreel's sobs come to a calm, sniffling against his older brother's shoulder, resting against him completely, letting himself be held by those arms that had always held him, always comforted him when he broke down, always held him when he needed to be held, wrapped around him warmly and protectively. Thaddeus rubs his back softly, pulling him back gently, immediately rubbing his thumbs over his cheeks, cradling his face in his hands. "That's it, there you go." He smiles down at him as the younger angel sniffles softly. "Feel better?"

Gadreel nod's softly in his hands, taking a deep breath. "Better."

"Good, good, there's nothing better then having a good cry." He rubs his thumbs over his cheeks gently. "It always helps." His little brother smiles up at him slightly, a shy smile, still somewhat unsure, still just a bit nervous. "But, now, we cheer you up. This is the time for bringing that smile back. And, I know just the way."

He reaches up with his left hand, Gadreel follows the movement, and his eyes widen when he spots it. "You still have the feather?"

Thaddeus smiles, twirling the feather between his fingers. "I do. I love this feather. It's my favorite thing in the world." He winks down at the younger angel and stands from the side of the bed. Gadreel watches him closely, a smile slowly stretching further over his features, as he watches him walk down the length of the bed, and sit on the end, turn around to face him, and cross his legs underneath him.

He twirls the feather between his feather between his fingers again. "I love this feather very much." He looks across at him for a moment, smiling playfully, he remembers that smile, he remembers what it brings, that's his big brother's smile, not the smile of his tormentor, of his abuser, that's the big brother who loves him and just wants to see him smile and listen to him laugh his little angel heart out. "And, I remember, I know your little toes loved it as well."

"Tahahahaddy!" Gadreel giggles in anticipation, curling his toes up instinctively, watching his older brother's free hand as he moves closer to his foot, reaching for his toes. He giggles just a bit harder, his foot twitching, all he can really do in these dreaded braces. He curls his pointer finger around his big toe and pulls it back, opening up just a little bit of space for him to get to, he looks up for a single moment, winking at him playfully, and winds the tip of the feather between his two toes, letting it rest there, basking in the explosion of giggles it elicits even in it's stillness. "I'm catching up for lost time, now."

The giggles fall silent, or, at least, they calm down a bit as they sit there for a brief moment. And, then, he moves the feather, rubbing it back and forth between his toes, and he explodes into a round of hearty giggles. His foot twitches this way and that, as the feather rubs at the space between his toes gently, he falls back against his pillow, trapped in a fit of boisterous giggles. "Aww, your toes are still just as ticklish as they were back then. You haven't changed in the slightest."

"Taahahahahahaadddyyy! Nohohohhoho!"

"You need some cheering up," he turns the feather around and rubs the quill over the sensitive underside of his big toe, the younger angel shrieks softly, wiggling his foot around desperately, trying to get away, but he doesn't manage it, the quill continues to scratch lightly over the underside of his toe. "I wouldn't be a good big brother if I didn't cheer you up."

"I'm hahahahhahaappy! I'm cheheheheheered uhhahahahhahauauuhuuhhup!"

"I don't think you are." He wiggles his other toes at the sensation of his playful torture. "Oh, look at those other toes, let me get them too." He curls his fingers around his other toes and pulls them back, running the quill of the feather over the skin underneath, Gadreel shrieks again, shaking his head frantically against his pillow. "That's much better."

"Nohhohohoho! Tahaahahahahaddy! Nohohhohot thehehehehehee toohohohohoeehehehehes! Nohohhohot thehehehehrrreehehehehee!" He shakes his head side to side, curling his arms around his belly, as he falls into a fit of boisterous laughter. "Nohohohot thahahhahaahhaat! Nohohohot theheheeheh fehehehaehahahahahatheehehheer!"

"See, this is why I like the feather," he moves down, scratching the quill of the feather over the ball of his foot, the younger angel squeals softly, his toes scrunching up tightly as he tries to wiggle his foot away again. "It's so simple and yet it gets me the best reaction."

"Tahahahahddy! Nohohhohoh! Nohohohot thehehehehehrrehehhehee! Nohohohot theheheheheehere! Plehehehehhease! I'm behehehehehttehehehehr!"

"Such a ticklish little foot."

"Aahahahahahahhahahaha! Tahahahahahahhaahaahaddy! Hehahahaeehehehehehehehheaaahahahaha! Tihihihihickles! Iihihihihit tihihihihickles!"

Thaddeus winks at him, quickly tucking the feather behind his ear, and scribbles the fingers of his free hand over the arch of his foot, up and down his sole, and he shrieks, squealing with laughter as he assaults his foot more head on. "I know it does, little angel, that's why I'm doing it."

"Tahahahahahaddy!"

"Are you happy now?"

"I'm hahahahahaaaappyyyy!"

"You swear?"

"Ihihihihi sweheheeeahahahahhar!"

"If you're sure." He pauses his attack. "Because, if not, I'm happy to keep going."

Gadreel looks down at him, giggling madly, and shakes his head. "Nohohoho! I'm suuhuhuhure! I ahahahhaam!"

He wiggles his fingers briefly and the younger angel shrieks. But then he stops, pulling away. "Okay, if you're sure."

…

Titus closes the book he'd been reading after a good ten minutes of silence, the squeals and laughter had brought a smile to their faces, some things would never change. "Perhaps we should go check on them."

Beside him, Nisroc nods, closing his own book. "I think you're right. It's been silent in there for nearly ten minutes."

Both Powers rolls off the guards' captain's bed, crossing the hall silently to the room across from them, and open the door quietly to peer inside. They share a smile at the sight of them cuddled up together, sound asleep, the fingers of one of their hands twined together.

Titus smiles, pulling the door closed silently, turning to his brother at his shoulder. "Maybe we should let them sleep."

"I agree, let's let them take this nap."


	171. Sneaking Out

"Yo." He jumps at the unexpected voice, nearly dropping the cup of coffee he holds in his hand, his wide eyes look up at the sound of the voice, meeting those of amber, sitting behind his desk, one of his files held open in front of them. "How was your night?"

"You!" He stalks forward, setting his mug on the side of his desk, and crosses behind to the younger angel sitting in the leather chair, he snatches the file up out of his hands. "Those are private. Not for prying eyes."

"Please," he waves a hand flippantly. "Everyone knows about _his _crimes."

The older angel pulls the wheeled chair back. "Come on, you, up." He curls his fingers into the collar of the younger angel's tunic, pulling him up from the chair, marching (read: dragging) him out from behind his desk. "It's bad enough that you manage to get out of your cell to sleep in here, you'd don't get to come out unless I let you out."

"Oh, come on, Thadd," he drags his feet trying to stay the inevitable, Sabaoth waits for them outside his cell, holding his tray of breakfast, the guard raises an eyebrow at the sight of them. "It's boring in there!"

"It's supposed to be boring!" Thaddeus pulls the cell door open and shoves the young angel inside. "You're being punished!"

"I didn't even do anything that wrong!"

"Sure, you little kleptomaniac." He nods for the guard to step forward, Sabaoth snorts softly, but moves to his side. The little prisoner turns to the Warden. "Can I at least have a hug before you leave me here to my lonesome?"

The Warden heaves a sigh, nodding lightly, opening his arms for the little prisoner. Jahoel smirks, stepping forward quickly to curl around the tall Warden, resting his head against his shoulder, peering over his shoulder as he reaches around his waist, the Warden's arms curl around him in turn, and it's only the guard who witnesses him lifting the ring of keys off the hook on the Warden's belt. Two large warm hands curl around his shoulders and pull him back, he curls the ring of keys up into his fingers and steps back when he's pushed. "There, you had your hug, now in you go."

"Okay, okay, I'll go, but just know that this is cruel and unusual punishment."

"I'll take note of it." Sabaoth steps around the Warden's side to pass him his tray of breakfast; toast, eggs, and bacon. Jahoel looks down at it and makes a face. "Yay, the same thing we have _every _day." He sets the tray down on the little table beside him, turning back to the Warden. "Can you come up with a new menu item?"

"I'll look into it."

"Thanks, Thaddy!" He shakes his head as the mischievous little thief sits at his table, digging into his morning meal. He looks up when he realizes he's still there, Thaddeus points a finger at him sternly. "Stay."

Jahoel nods lightly, waving him away, and Thaddeus watches him with narrowed eyes for a brief time before nodding, turning back towards his office, and stepping away. The young angel sets his bacon over his toast and scoops his eggs over top of them, topping it off with the other piece of toast, he makes himself a bacon and egg sandwich, and takes a bite. Smirking to himself, he leans forward, peering around the right edge, making sure no one was coming, then he peers down the left, smirking again when he realizes no one is there, and swings the ring of keys around his finger.

He finishes off his breakfast sandwich, washing it down with a glass of juice, Sabaoth had given him coffee once. He'd bounced off the walls once. He hadn't had coffee since. Stacking the plate, cup, and silverware on top of each other, because he enjoys being difficult for the guard who comes to collect his breakfast tray. He stands from his chair, walking around the table silently, leaning against the bars of his cell door as he spies down the halls again, smiling when no one appears and reaches out between the bars with the ring of keys, slipping the key into the lock, he turns it, the tumblers click, and he pushes the cell door open softly.

Oh, sweet, sweet freedom.

He trapezes down the hall freely, waving to the others as he passes them by, swinging the ring of keys around his finger as he makes his way down the hall.

Sabaoth looks up at the sound of foot steps behind him, shaking his head at the sight of the prisoner walking towards them, he knows this one, he knew it was only a matter of time before he made his escape with those keys.

"Hello, Jahoel, I see he still hasn't noticed you took his keys?"

The younger angel snorts, holding them up for him to see. "Nope."

"_Jahoel." _

The oldest guard makes a face at him. "Oh, it seems your luck has run out."

Thaddeus stalks down the hall towards them, and he quickly hides the keys behind his back, not his best act, and offers the Warden and bright smile, waving with his free hand. "Hi, Thadd."

He shakes his head, coming to stand before him, Jahoel never realized just how tall he was until now. He looks down as he holds a hand out, flexing his fingers lightly, and looks back up at the Warden. "Give them back."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"My keys, Jahoel, hand them over."

"Keys?" He tilts his head. "You have keys?"

Thaddeus doesn't seem impressed, his free hand snapping out, fingers curling around his right ear, tugging on it firmly. Jahoel makes a face, yelping at the sharp ache, leaning to the side at the tugging. "I _had _keys." He leans forward. "Until a little kleptomaniac of mine took them." He flexes his fingers again. "Hand them over."

"I—_ouch—_don't have any—_oww—_keys."

He tugs on his ear sharply, it tugs him forward, and his eyes widen as the Warden leans down. "Give. Me. My. Keys."

Jahoel stares up at him with wide eyes, silently passing over the keys, setting them down in his outstretched hand. Thaddeus stares down at him for a moment, curling his fingers around the ring of keys, reaching back to hook them back on his belt. "Don't you _ever _take my keys again; do you understand me?"

The younger angel nods meekly. "I understand."

"Good boy," the mood lightens, his fingers tugging at his ear in a playful manner, and he smiles at him as he leans back. "Come on, you're coming with me."

"Aww, are you putting me back in my cell?"

"No, you'd only manage to get yourself out." He waves to the guards as he's tugged forward, back down the hall, they wave back. "We're going to look over the menu."

"Oh, my Father." Jahoel looks up at him, tugging on the side of his tunic lightly. "Can we have hotcakes sometimes?"

Thaddeus snorts, shaking his head fondly. "Only good angels get hotcakes."

"I _am_ a good angel!"

"You stole my keys."

He amends. "I am a good angel, _sometimes_."

Laughing softly, he pushes him lightly into his office, Jahoel smiles, darting forward for the leather chair behind the Warden's desk, he reaches for one of the folders, but their tugged away as the Warden sits in one of the chairs across from him. "I'll think about the hotcakes."

The younger angel pumps his fist above his head. "Yes!"


	172. The Kleptomaniac

He stayed in his cell that night, Thaddeus had locked his office door the night before when he made his leave for the night, so the Warden figured that it was more so on the fact that the little guy couldn't get in, and that was the reason he was sleeping in his cell, outside of him actually staying there because he was supposed to.

Jahoel groans softly at the sound of boots stomping down the hallway outside his cell, four feet, two people, marching down the hall at day break was not how he wanted to be woken up that morning. Breakfast wasn't until ten, and everyone came to work at eight, leaving him two hours to continue sleeping before he needed to get up to eat. Uncurling from under his blanket, he pokes his head out, resting his chin on the pillow as two shadows fall over the front of his cell, he brushes his curls back to peer up at them.

Thaddeus smiles down at him, waving a few fingers in greeting. "Good morning, Jahoel, sleep well?"

"Ugh, it's still too early, go away." He makes to curl back under his blanket, pausing at the sound of a stool being set down outside his cell, he turns back up to watch the other being next to the Warden sit upon the stool in front of his cell. What was this fool doing? "Umm, sorry sir, loitering isn't allowed."

The Warden smiles down at him again. "This is Marmaroth." He gestures to the new guard. "He's going to be _your _guard."

The young thief pushes himself up onto his elbows, staring between the two older angels, from one to the other. "_My _guard?"

"All yours." He nods. "He's here to make sure you stay put."

"He's _babysitting _me?"

"You wouldn't need babysitter if you'd stay in your _cell _like you're _supposed _to."

Jaheol stares at him for a moment and groans, curling back under his blanket, letting himself be pulled back into slumbers grasp. The Warden smiles at the sleeping little angel, nodding down to the guard as he turns, Marmaroth looks up at him. "Breakfast is in two hours, he'll try to get out after he's done eating, keep an eye on him." He looks down to the sleeping mound under the blanket fondly. "He's a slippery one."

"I've got it handled, sir." Marmaroth nods in assurance. "He'll remain within this cell."

Thaddeus didn't seem convinced, but he didn't speak on it, he just nodded, patting the guard on the shoulder as he stepped passed him, pulling his ring of keys off his belt to unlock the door to his office.

…

He leans against the bars of his cell, arms crossed around them, staring down at the guard outside. Marmaroth was ignoring him, but Jahoel was observant, he knew he was starting to get on his nerves.

"Hello?" Silence. "Can you talk?" More silence. "I mean, I don't judge, it's okay if you can't." A small intake of breath. "Is Saba coming? I'm hungry." Nothing but silence. "It's okay if you don't like me. Not everyone has good taste."

Boots echo from down the hall, he knows who it is, he turns away from the guard at his door to look over at the one approaching from down the hall. Sabaoth smiles at Marmaroth as he approaches. "Hello, Marmaroth," he spares the prisoner a glance. "I hope he's not being too much."

"Not at all."

"Oh!" Jahoel looks down at guard outside his cell. "You can talk!"

Shaking his head, the head guard reaches for the set of keys on his belt, sticking one into the key hole of the door and turns it, listening to the tumblers click open, and pulls the cell door open slightly, passing in the tray.

It's hotcakes.

"Be nice, Oel."

He takes the tray hungrily, turning to the small table to set it down on. "I'm always nice."

"Jahoel."

The young prisoner looks up at him, tearing a piece of the hotcake off and plops it in his mouth, nodding his head slightly. "I am."

Sabaoth purses his lips at him and turns back to the guard next to him. "If you need any help with him, just come get me," he spares the thief a glance. "Or Thaddeus."

"Or, _or_, you could not." Jahoel points a finger at him. The older guard smirks slightly. "Then, behave."

The little prisoner nods, sitting in the chair at his small table, digging into his hotcakes. Sabaoth watches him for a moment, and whispers a soft comment to the other guard, before making his leave again. Jahoel eats in silence, enjoying the hotcakes, happy that the Warden had kept true on his word, he tears pieces of the sweet hotcake off and plops them in his mouth happily, content to sit in his cell and eat his tasty breakfast.

It wasn't until he was done that he'd get bored.

He swallows the last piece of his hotcakes and pushes his tray away, washing it down with a glass of juice, and stands from his chair, returning to his position of leaning against the cell bars. He sees Marmaroth tense in preparation of his day. "Hey Mar, can I call you that?" He nods to himself. "I'm going to call you 'Mar'." He reaches forward, trying to touch the guards hair, but he leans away from him. "Oh, come on! I'm not going to do anything. Come on, Mar." He continues on for maybe, thirty minutes, before the older angel has enough. He stands from his stool stiffly, turning away from the annoying prisoner, and stalks down the hall. Jahoel presses against the bars as he watches him go. "Oh, come on Mar! Come back!"

He sighed, reaching back for the pin holding his curls back, swiping them back out of his eyes as they fell forward, and leaned over the bars above the lock, reaching through the bars, he sticks the pin into the key hole. All it takes is a brief twist of the pin, a slight nudge, and the tumbler turns, the cell door opening for him. Pulling his curls back, he sticks the pin back in, and steps out of his cell with a slight bounce. He kicks the cell door shut behind him lightly, wandering forward, waving his fingers at the others as he passed them.

Jahoel smiles slightly, staring at their unassuming backs, and steps forward. He tugs lightly at the guard's hair as he comes to stand behind him, he reaches back to catch whatever is tugging and he pulls his hand away quickly, the hand goes away, and he reaches forward again.

This time the hand that comes back is quicker, fingers curl around his wrist as he gets tugged around, and he laughs as he stumbles around, tumbling over into the tall guard's lap. "Where did Marmaroth go?"

"Mar?" He shrugs, leaning back against the guard's arm. "I don't know, he just got up and left."

"And," Sabaoth tugs at his curls lightly. "How long did you purposefully stand there and annoy him?"

The young angel looks up at him. "Annoy him?" He shakes his head. "No, no, I was just trying to make a friend."

"I'm sure you were."

Jahoel nods up at him. "I was, I swear."

"Sure, okay, I believe _that_." They all knew Jahoel, he was a regular 'visitor'. Cell 397 was his cell, it was always open for him, he came that often, he had itchy fingers, always picking stuff off of anyone he could, consequently, that was why he always ended up back here. The punishment never seemed to change anything. "You better not take anything from _me_."

"I wouldn't," he shrugs lightly. "You have nothing I want."

"That makes me feel oh so much better."

"It should." Jahoel turns to look at the guard across from them, Osmadiel is resting back against the corner lightly, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes closed. The little offender reaches out, poking him in the arm lightly. "Hey, Os, hey, hey, Os, whatcha doin, Os, wake up Os." The resting guard reaches up and smacks his hand lightly. "Bad, little pest, don't bother a sleeping Os." Jahoel waited a moment, until the guard settled back down, to reach out and poke him again. He swats his hand again. "Bad, bad little pest, no poking the sleeping Os." He snorts softly but stops poking him.

He turns to the youngest guard. "Nice car, Sora."

Sorath smiles up at him, running his toy car up and down his thigh. "Thanks, Oel."

"You're welcome, Sora."

Sabaoth tugs at his curls again. "No taking anything from Sora, either."

The young prisoner looks up at him, pressing a hand to his chest, as though he was offended. "I would _never _take anything from Sora. He's too innocent. I would never want to make him upset."

"I knew you had a heart in there somewhere."

"I do," he huffs, turning back to lean against the guard's arm more comfortably. "It's just well protected."

He sighs sadly from above him. "I know."

Jahoel kept most people at arms length, better to save yourself the heartache then to set yourself up for it, in his opinion, and that's what he did, he protected himself by isolating himself. He'd opened up to a few others though, them, for example, he'd opened up to them. Let them into the fortress that was his heart, hence the reason he was so comfortable making himself comfortable over the oldest guard's lap, and to poke a resting Osmadiel. He was also opening himself up to their Warden, they could see it, though they doubted Thaddeus did, he hadn't known Jahoel as long as they had. Jahoel had been one of the lucky few to be forgotten about during that reign of terror the Prisons history was blemished with, he could be as silent as the night when he wanted to be, you could walk right passed him and not even realize he was there, it was a blessing and a curse, but that didn't mean he hadn't heard the rumors of what the Warden had done, the horrible, terrible things.

They often wondered how he had reacted during his first 'torture' session, clearly it hadn't ended that bad, he was opening up to the Warden, after all, but they doubted the beginning was pleasant.

But all that mattered was the ending, and it was clearly a nice ending, seeing as Jahoel had begun to let him into his heart.

Of course, their moment of companionable silence had to be interrupted, by that obnoxious scribe no less. "They should keep you here, you always come back, it would save everyone so much time. You're nothing but a lost cause."

Jahoel huffs, leaning forward, glaring at the prisoner within the cell next to them. "If I had a dollar for every smart thing you say. I'd be poor."

"You little roach. You're nothing but a lowly miracle worker. And you can't even do that right."

He shrugs. "Everyone seems normal until you get to know them." He sends the scribe a pointed look and tilts his head sarcastically. "I guess we were both disappointed, weren't we?"

"I am _The Scribe _of _God?_" Metatron snaps harshly, looking the lounging young prisoner over with distaste. "Who are _you _again? No one _noteworthy._"

"If I wanted to kill myself, I would climb your ego," he raises his hand up, leveling it out, as if to indicate how large it was. "And jump to your IQ." He lowers his hand, leaning over the guard's lap, bracing his other hand over the guard's knee, as he presses his hand to the floor.

"At least I was a _somebody_."

"So, you don't deny that your IQ level is about as high as the floor under our feet?" Jahoel rubs at his chin, settling back against Sabaoth's arm. "Interesting, interesting."

"I—My—You—" The older prisoner splutters hotly. "You little _brat_!"

"I'm sorry I hurt your feelings when I called you stupid. I thought you already knew."

"I'll have you know—"

"If karma doesn't hit you, I gladly will."

Even Osmadiel woke up to watch them, little Jahoel could put his sarcastic ways to same, he was a natural, _'born' _with it flowing through his veins.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"I'm not usually one to get dirty, but I'd be willing to take some of your germs." He makes a face. "As long as your idiocy doesn't wipe off on me because that would be just yuckiness."

Metatron splutters indignantly. "How dare you—"

"Oh, now you're clearly upset," Jahoel leans forward again, miming himself holding a pad of paper and a pencil. "Tell me how I've upset you, because I want to know how to do it again."

"The sheer audacity!" Metatron spits at him. "You have no respect for your betters!"

"I'd agree with you but then we'd both be wrong." He presses his hand to Sabaoth's chest. "I respect Saba."

The guard snorts under him. "Only because I feed you."

"It helps me to respect you, yes, but the fact that I do remains."

Metatron spits at their feet. "_He _is not your better."

"Buddy, I think you better reevaluate who these _'betters' _are," Jahoel leans back into his comfortable position. "I'm not the one locked in a cell."

"You _little_—"

"Metatron," Sabaoth interjects as he can see the argument starting to rise into dangerous territory. "Be silent. Your voice is giving me a headache."

The Scribe huffs indignantly, but does as he's told, he's seen what happens when the calm and collected guard loses his temper, it's not a pretty sight.

Sabaoth looks down at the little thief leaning against his arm, closing his legs slightly, he pulls him up closer. "And you, stop antagonizing my prisoner."

The little angel pouts slightly. "Aw, but Saba, it's fun to antagonize him."

The oldest guard sighs deeply, slightly exasperated. "I know it is, Oel, but there are other ways to find entertainment."

"How?" Jahoel looks unimpressed. "By staring at a different set of four enclosing walls?"

He sighs again. "No." He curls his arms around the skinny little prisoner. "Let me show you."

They'd figured out how to get the little prisoner to reign himself in after a while, they've known for much longer then their Warden has, it brings them great enjoyment to get one over on the sarcastic little prisoner. There was one sure way to bring his sarcasm to a stopping point.

The younger angel seems to understand what he's alluding too, and his eyes widen, he pushes against the guard's chest, but his arms hold him steady and close. "No, that's okay, I'll figure it out."

"No, no, it's my job as your elder to help guide you."

"I'm okay. I'll stop. I promise."

"Oh, I insist." He smiles down at him, curling the fingers of his right hand over his shoulder, to make it rather difficult to scrunch his shoulder up, and leans closer. "It's my job to help the prisoners."

Jahoel falls still, the others exchange an amused glance, even Sora's gotten to see just a small bit into their interesting relationship. He stiffens, lifting his shoulder as much as he can, the guard is stronger then him, it only lifts a measly centimeter. "Please not the beard." He tilts his head to the side, he figures, if he can't scrunch up, he'll lean to the side as much as he can.

"Oh, you know me so well." He feels a warm nose nudge at his cheek, the edge of the beard rubs over his jaw bone. "Open up."

"No."

"Open up."

"Never."

Sabaoth chuckles softly, he always manages to find a crack in his defenses, and this time is no different, he pushes his head back lightly, moving the hand from his shoulder upwards, and quickly slides into place. Jahoel shrieks lightly, scrunching up around him, his dangling legs, hanging over the guard's right thigh, straighten at the sudden attack. His arms close around him, making his pushing against his chest a futile endeavor, so he changes his methods, pushing desperately at his arms, going as rigid as a petrified cat.

He hisses at first, like a startled feline, but the hissing soon fades away, boisterous giggles exploding from him as the guard rubs his face into the side of his neck. "Getoutgetoutgetout! Gehehehet ohohohout!"

"What was it you said?" He rubs his nose into the soft skin. "Never."

"I hahahahahaahaaate yohhohohohur beheheheheeaahahahahard! Ihateit! Get ohhohohout!"

"You love my beard." He rubs his beard into the smooth skin of his neck and he cackles softly, trying to lean away from him, but failing, he has nowhere to go, he's trapped in place. "Listen at how happy it makes you."

"I'm gohohohoing toohoohohohoho shahahhahaave ihihihit ohohohooff!"

"I dare you to try," he presses a kiss to the tender skin and the young prisoner shrieks softly. "See what I do to you then."

"Ihihihihits wohohohhorth thehehehehehe ihhihihiihit!"

Osmadiel laughs at that, shaking his head at them, Rahab and Sorath giggle softly into their hands. Sabaoth laughs softly, the vibrations of it against his neck drive him crazy, and he loses it.

"Hahahahahaahshshshshshahahahahaa! Stop! STOP! Iihihihihi'm sohohohoorry!"

"Are you going to cool it on the sarcasm?"

"Yeehehehhehehes!"

"And, did you annoy Marmaroth enough that he left his post?"

"Poohohohohossibly!"

"I thought so." He presses one last kiss to his neck and pulls back. "Thanks for admitting it, you little miscreant."

Jahoel giggles breathlessly, sagging against him, rubbing lightly at the side of his neck, to rub away the remaining tingles. "I hahahhaate you."

"You do not," he hugs him close, rubbing his fingers throw his curls, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "You love me, and you know it."

The little prisoner nods, giggling still. "I do."

"Saba, please don't torture the prisoners," they both turn towards the voice, the Warden stands there, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed loosely, and he smiles down at them. "That's my job."

The guard chuckles softly. "But, I like torturing this one."

Thaddeus smiles in amusement. "I do too." He smirks at the little thief. "So, it's the beard that really gets you, good to know." He rubs at his beard covered chin lightly. "I'll have to keep that in mind."

"Oh, he hates the beard, it gets him every time."

"Really?" He winks down at them. "We'll have to explore that in your next session, Oel."

Jahoel stares at him in horror, and they laugh softly at his expression, Thaddeus nods slightly, humming under his breath. "Did you annoy Marmaroth so much that he asked me to reassign him in less then an hour?"

The little prisoner smiles mischievously. "I was just trying to make a new friend."

"Trying to make a new _friend, _huh?" The Warden raises an eyebrow as he stares down at him. "Is that your final answer?"

He grins up at him cheekily. "Sure."

"Well then," he rests his hands on his hips lightly. "I can now see the error in my judgement. _You _are a cruel and unusual punishment."

"Thank you," he presses a hand to his heart. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me." He licks his lips slightly. "And, thanks for the hotcakes, too."

"You're welcome, you little rabble rouser."

Thaddeus rubs his hands together. "You shouldn't be bored on your own for very long, we're getting a few new prisoners." He gestures over his shoulder. "I'm putting them in your cell block."

"Thanks?" He makes a face. "I have to pretend to be nice to _new _people now."

"Oh, please, like you'll stay there long enough to actually give them time to talk to you."

"Are you…" He stares up at him. "Are you actually saying you're going to turn a blind eye to me letting myself out of my cell?"

The Warden stares at him with an even gaze. "I'm not _saying _anything."

Jahoel stares up at him for a moment and then he smiles. "I like you."

"I like you too, little guy." He leans forward, ruffling his curls gently, smiling down at him fondly. "Even if you're a trouble maker."

"Aw, you love me for _me_!"

Thaddeus chuckles softly, rolling his eyes. "And, you're lucky I do."

He gestures for him to get up, turning back towards the end of the hall. "Come on, miscreant."

"Oh," their little prisoner climbs off the guard's lap. "Where are we going?" He hops to his side. "On an _adventure_?"

"Sure," he tugs him forward by the collar. "We're going on an _adventure _to get you shoes."

"Oooohhhhh." Jahoel elbows him lightly. "I'm so excited!"


	173. Turning Of Events

"He doesn't think you're anything more then the rest of us." They were leaning against the shared walls of their cells, Thaddeus had been serious when he said he was putting the new prisoners in his cell block, he knew he didn't like his neighbor from day one, but he promised Saba and Thadd to be on his best behavior, so he tried, and if he punched his pillow or the wall a few times, then no one had to know. "He doesn't like you." He resisted the urge to do something drastic. "Who could like someone like you?" He clenches his fists tightly. "You can't keep your hands to yourself, if anything, he merely tolerates you."

"No, he doesn't." He tilts his head down, pressing his chin to his chest. "He likes me. We're friends."

"Why? Because he's nice to you?" His neighbor whispers back. "He's nice to _everyone_." They scoff. "You're nothing special."

He knows it's not true, Thadd likes him, he got him shoes, and gave him a book to read, he liked him, they were friends. "That's not true."

"Isn't it?" He can hear their boot skid across the floor, stretching their leg out. "If he cared so much why's he keep you locked up?"

"He does care about me."

"No he doesn't." They scoff softly. "If he did, he'd take you with him." There's a beat of silence and his fists clench tightly, fighting that urge even still, he'd promised. "You're nothing but an orphan."

That's it. That's the final straw. That's the one that causes him to lose it. He loses his cool. He can take insults, he can take people not caring about him, but people pointing out his official status, that's what crosses his line. He jumps up to his knees, crawling across his cell, reaching under his mattress for the spare keys he'd taken the night before the new prisoners had arrived. He pushes himself to his feet and rushes for the gate of his cell, reaching through the cell bars, he sticks the key into the lock, turning it, it clicks open, and he pushes the gate outwards. Jumping to his neighbors cell, his hand shakes lightly in fury as he sticks the key into that cells lock too, twisting it open, and rushes inside. His neighbor has little time to reach before he's jumping on him.

There's an echoing smack that reverberates around them, the sound of his fist cracking into his neighbor's cheek, they both yell at each other, one in anger and the other in surprise. "He does care! He does! We're friends! He care's a lot!"

"No, he doesn't!" The other prisoner kicks him off, rolling over, and jumps to his own feet. The prisoner in the cell across from him jumps away from the bars as he's pushed back against it, the gate rattles under them. Jahoel swings at him, and he ducks, so he then brings his knee up and digs it into his stomach. "Yes, he does!"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Boots echo down the hall as someone, two someones, run towards them. Arms curl around his middle, under his arms, and yank him backwards. He stumbles backwards, over his own feet, and crashes back into someone's chest. He looks upwards, the heated eyes of the Warden glare down at him, before he looks away, back to the other, the little prisoner follows his gaze. Sabaoth glares at him too, both of them are too stern for his liking, and holds the other prisoner back against him, keeping the two young angels apart. Thaddeus looks between them both heatedly. "What's going on here! There is no room for violence in my Prison!"

"He started it!" They both point at each other, lunging forward, against their restraints. "Let me go!"

"That's enough." The Warden's tone grows darker, firmer, calmer. It's scarier then him yelling at them. "Who threw the first punch?"

Neither of them speak.

"Someone had better speak up."

Jahoel raises his hand timidly. "I did." He feels Thaddeus's angered gaze turn down to him and he resists the urge to flinch at the feeling of it. "How did you get your cells open?" He holds up the set of keys he'd taken. "I took a spare pair of keys." Large warm fingers rub against his as they yank the keys off his finger, he feels the Warden shift as he reaches back to put them in his trousers pocket. "I've warned you against taking my keys."

"Technically, they're not yours, they're spares."

"_Technically, _any key to this Prison is _my _key." Fingers curl around his ear and tug downwards sharply, he yelps, ducking in time with the sharp tug. "Don't push your luck."

The Warden looks over to the other boy. "Ismal, no supper tonight."

"What, but, you can't—"

"I'm the _Warden_," his voice drops an octave. "I can do whatever I please to any of my prisoners." He glares down at him until he averts his gaze. "No supper tonight." He looks up to the guard holding him steady. "Sabaoth, put him back in his cell." The guards nods silently, dragging the young man forward by the collar of his shirt, and pushes him, none too gently, into his cell.

Jahoel yelps as he pulled around, those fingers still curled firmly around his ear, dragging him down the hall towards the Torture chamber, for some reason, call it intuition, he doesn't think it's to go have a good time. He stumbles over his feet trying to match the angered Warden's pace, he's tall, and _he's_ short, it's no easy task.

The older angel pushes the door to the chamber open, normally he'd take this to his office, but the chamber was closer. He tugs the younger angel around, pushing him in first, and pulls the thick wooden door closed behind him.

The little prisoner jumps forward slightly, despite the grip on his ear, when a hand smacks against his rear end, again and again, repeatedly, he jumps and yelps. "Hey! Wait! Ow! Stop!"

"What have I told you about taking my keys?"

"Not to! _Ouch! _Stop! Ow! I won't do it again! Oww! Thadd!"

The Warden's angry at him, he can feel it, with every swat. It's repetitive and starting to ache. "They could fall into the wrong hands," he swats him harder. "That is why I keep telling you not to take my keys." Jahoel tries to bounce forward but doesn't get very far. "There are some very dangerous prisoners in here, down on the lower levels, if they were to get their hands on my keys, do you know what havoc they could raise."

"Ow! _Owwie! _Stop! It hurts! I'm sorry! I won't do it again! Ow! Thadd, please!"

"And, I do not tolerate violence in my Prison, you do not attack my other prisoners, do you understand me."

"He started it! _Ow! _Okay, okay! I'm sorry!"

"You are confined to your cell for the next week."

"The _whole _week! OW! Okay, the whole week! Owwie! Thadd, please, stop!"

If anything, the Warden smacks him harder, he's sure that if he were to check, his bottom would be a nice rosy hue at this point. He bounces in place, reaching back to try and protect himself, it doesn't help, Thaddeus merely lets go of his ear and pulls his hands away, holding him in place by the wrist instead.

"And, there's no supper for you tonight either."

"Aw, come on! I didn't even really do anything!" That seems to be the wrong thing to say. "Ow! Owwie! Okay! No supper! Got it!"

"Good." He smacks him one final time, harder then all the rest, and spins him around by the grip on his wrist. "If you ever take my keys, or bring violence on one of my prisoners, ever again, I won't give you the privilege of keeping your trousers."

"Okay, okay," Jahoel rubs his bottom miserably. "Message received."

"Now, tell me," The Warden curls his fingers under his arms, hefting him off his feet, sitting him up on the table. "What brough about this untolerated violence?"

His littlest prisoner looks down at his hands, resting in his lap, but says nothing.

"Come now," he lifts the boy's chin up with a knuckle. "Why so quiet?" He smiles down at him, crossing his arms loosely. "Most of the time, I can hardly get you to keep quiet." Jahoel looks up at him quietly. "Out with it."

He kicks his feet lightly. "He called me an orphan." The boy takes in a deep breath. "And, he said you didn't care about me."

"Of, course I care about you."

Jahoel looks down to his hands again. "You care about everyone."

"Yes," Thaddeus nods lightly. "I do." And lifts his head back up with a knuckle under his chin. "But I care about _you_, too."

"What?"

The Warden sighs, brushing his fingers up to caress his cheeks, leaning forward to enable them to see eye to eye. "I care about _you_. You're not an orphan. You've got me."

"I've got you?"

"Always."

Jahoel stares at him for a moment, as it slowly dawns on him, his mind taking its time to wrap around the information just fed to it. Thaddeus smiles as his eyes slowly widen, realization dawning on him at long last, sometimes it takes a moment. "I've got you."

"You do, my little miscreant."

He smiles, staring up at the Warden for a long moment, still leaning over, his hands curled over his shoulders, and throws his arms around his neck. Thaddeus smiles softly, curling his own arms around the small prisoner, smoothing his curls down. "I've got you."

"You've got me."

"If you care so much," Jahoel rests his chin on the Warden's shoulder. "Why do you have me stay down here? Why can't I come stay with you?"

"Well, technically speaking, you _are _still a prisoner." He ducks down in the older angel's shoulder. "And, I figure you'd have more fun down here then you would up in my stuffy quarters."

"So," The younger angel leans back slightly, looking into the elder's eyes, he presses their foreheads together. "If I wanted to, I could come stay with you upstairs?"

"Well, sure," he nods lightly. "We'd have to share a bed, but we could make it work, and, what better way to make sure you're staying out of trouble."

"I don't get into trouble."

"Little guy, there is very little that happens in this Prison that I don't know about."

"I sometimes get into trouble."

He smiles at the younger angel. "That's what I thought you'd say. '_Sometimes'."_

Jahoel returns his smile. "Can I come stay with you tonight? I want to see if your bed is more comfortable then mine."

The Warden laughs softly, nodding lightly. "Sure, you can come stay with me for the night." He tugs him forward by the legs, curling them around his waist securely, pulling him away from the table. He dangles from the older angels waist, crossing his ankles together, curling his arms around the Warden's neck. Thaddeus turns them around, curling an arm under the boy's lower back to keep him in place, and reaches out with his other hand to push the thick wooden door open.

The sun has set, the orange-yellow light is fading against the floor and the cells, the lanterns on the walls lighting in the wake of the oncoming darkness. He turns them out of the doorway, there's a staircase between the door to the Torture room and the Warden's office, it leads to the small loft above, the Warden's quarters, only the prisoners worst off were taken up there, until they calmed, and then they were taken to their cells.

Thaddeus carried him up the stairs carefully, kicking the door to his quarters open, he steps into the room, kicking the door closed behind them. He treks his way over to the bed, leaning forward, he signals for the young prisoner to let go, and allows him to fall backwards onto his bed. It's a privilege to sleep in the Warden's bed, a privilege that was given much too freely, but sue him, he had a big heart. Jahoel spreads out over the bed, spreading his arms and legs widely, he crosses his arms lightly, shaking his head in amusement. "So, how does my bed check out?"

"So much more comfortable then mine." He rubs his hands over the soft top blanket. "It's like I'm laying on a cloud."

"That nice, huh?"

"It's heavenly," Jahoel snorts at his own joke. "Pun intended."

"Very funny." He turns away from him, making his way over to his wardrobe, pulling the door open. He takes one tunic, a light blue, and turns as he tosses it over to the little angel laying on his bed. "Here, put this on, you're not sleeping in my bed in that nasty prison garb."

"But, you're the one that ordered it."

"I never said I had good taste, put it on, or you can go back downstairs."

Jahoel sits up quickly, shimmying out of his trousers and his tunic, pulling the Warden's over his head. Thaddeus turns to face him, he'd changed much faster then he had, smiling in amusement as the little guy stand from the edge of his bed. "It's like a dress!"

"I take offense to that." He steps forward. "You're just very small."

He takes on a look of offence. "I'm not _that _short."

The Warden steps forward, bending at the right moment, and scoops the little prisoner up. "Yes, you are." The little angel curls around him, smiling down at him brightly, Thaddeus leans forward, rubbing their noses together. "But it's endearing."

"So, what do we do now?"

"We can do whatever your heart desires."

Jahoel smiles softly. "Can we…?"

"Yes," he rubs his bearded cheek against the young prisoners. "We can."


	174. Exploring The Prison

After the first night, it was no surprise to find the young angel curled up under his blankets, he easily let himself out of his cell, even without a set of keys, and had managed to find a way to pick the lock on his door. It had caught him by surprise at first, but he'd quickly grown passed that, Jahoel was a regular visitor now, and personally, he wouldn't have it any other way. The little guy brought a new kind of light to his life, gave him a purpose, especially on those bad days where he remembered the bad times particularly strongly, he'd lay curled in his bed, trusting Sabaoth to take care of things in his absence. It wouldn't be long until he heard the jiggling of the lock in the door to his quarters, the little guy would creep into his room, careful not to disturb the silence, and climb under the blankets next to him, curling around him in such a way that one could take it as him trying to block out all the bad in the world, ensuring that only the good was allowed in, and nothing else.

He appreciated those days, the warmth of the little body curled around his was like a protective blanket, surrounding him completely, or, as completely as the small angel could.

His presence made those days much easier to deal with.

He tilts his head up, unburying it from under his arms, pressed against his pillow, as the lock jiggles softly, the tumbler turning softly, clicking open, and the door swings open softly. Just a crack. Allowing a thin body to slide inside the room, the door closing silently behind them. They creep across the floor, careful not to make so much as a creek, and he sighs as the left side of the blankets lift slightly.

Thaddeus buries his head back into his pillow, under his arms, the ache of his mind mending the lost parts overwhelming. A light warm body climbs up on his back, laying over him, legs straddling his, and arms worm their way around his chest, fingers curl into his tunic lightly. He doesn't say a word, offering comfort from mere presence alone, making sure he knows that he's not alone in this, he doesn't have to suffer on his own.

Sabaoth comes to check on them both later that evening, he knows their littlest prisoner would have made his way up here, if he doesn't come to them, he goes in search of the Warden, he's always with either one of them.

They're both asleep when he pushes the door open, the Warden buried in his pillow, the prisoner pressed deep between his shoulders. He smiles at them, shaking his head lightly, and pulls the door shut behind him as he makes his leave.

…

He's allowed to wander the Prison, he's not allowed to take a set of keys with him, and after what happened last time with the keys, he was loath to try it again, he didn't want to know what that felt like without his trousers on. He had a good idea, but he didn't want to find out if he was right or not. He was allowed to wander the Prison as much as he wanted, without supervision, so long as he stayed within the boundaries that had been set. For example, he's not allowed to wander down to the lower levels, where the dangerous prisoners were kept, he wasn't allowed down there period, even if it was supervised.

But, naturally, his curiosity got the better of him, and he bides his time, waiting for the Warden to leave them for a meeting, for the guards to be preoccupied with taking their prisoners to the washroom, and he creeps over to the thick metal door that separates the upper levels from the lower.

Solitary confinement.

The Hole.

It was not a place for the light hearted.

He peers down the hall to his right, then to his left, and leans forward, slipping his pin into the lock. He twists it, tugs it to the side lightly, and the lock clicks open. There's a series of burning lanterns lining the stone wall, illuminating the stairs that lead down to the rooms below, cautiously, he steps forward, taking the first stare down, and turns back to pull the heavy door closed behind him, leaving it open only a crack, and turns forward, taking the steps down one at a time.

It's dark and dreary, lanterns lightly the hall, he can make out the figures, he knows them to be guards. They're stationed at the walls between each cell. These cells are different then the ones he's used to, the doors aren't gates, they're actual doors, thick metal doors, with barred windows cut in the center of the top, a trap door for them to unlock to slip their trays into.

Jahoel sticks to the shadows, creeping behind the guards as they pace back and forth, checking in on the prisoners.

He chances a glance into one of the cells, he'd never expected to run into someone he knew down here, and he had to do a double glance in his surprise. He rapped lightly on one of the bars over the window, and eyes turn up to meet his, a smile spreads over their features as they stand from their stone bed, tossing the blanket back, and they come to stand before him, curling their fingers around the bars of the window.

"Jahoel."

"Isdel?" He takes a moment to find his words. "I thought you were dead."

"I thought you were too." She smiles at him, it's a mean smile, spiteful. "Still thieving I see, always a common sight among these parts, they know you here by name."

"What are you doing here, Isdel?" Seeing one's former guardian in The Hole would shock anyone. "Why are you down here?"

"Experimentation." She smiles at him again. "Crimes against the Host. It carries a life sentence I'm afraid."

"Is that why you left me?" Jahoel stares up at her, eyes shining with unshed tears, he hadn't been good enough for her to stay with him, to stay out of this kind of trouble. "You left me in the Garden and never came back."

"I didn't want you anymore, Jahoel." She tilts her head. "I grew bored of you."

"So, you threw me away?"

"What does one do with their overused toys?"

"I wasn't…I wasn't a toy to be cast aside." He feels a tear slip down his cheek. "I needed you. You were supposed to care for me. You were supposed to be there."

"Don't worry, we'll be together soon." She smiles at him sweetly, it's scarier then her mean smile. "They'll get tired of your kleptomania soon enough and decide it's best to put you where you can't be seen and throw away the key."

Jahoel shakes his head. "I'll never come down here, never again." He backs away a step, and she reaches through the gap in the bars, snagging his wrist. "Sure, you will, my little one, we'll be together soon. The cell next to mine will be yours."

"No, no, he would never put me down here." Jahoel yanks on his arm, yanking it from her grasp, it catches the attention of the guards and he yelps, bolting in the other direction, back to the stairs, he hops up them, two at a time, it's no easy feat when one's eyes are full of unshed tears. He pushes the heavy door open with both of his hands, and slams it shut with his back, wiping at his eyes, he darts down the hall, he's going to go back to his cell, like a good prisoner, because what if she was right?

What if they did get tired of him?

The little prisoner can barely see where he's going, rubbing miserably at his eyes, he doesn't see the approaching form until he runs into them. He bounces back, yelping in surprise, and would have fallen backwards had he not been caught by the shoulders. "Hey, I've been looking for you, what's wrong?" Warm fingers curl around his cheeks, tilting his head up, thumbs rub away the tears falling down his cheeks. "What happened, I was only gone a few hours."

"Thadd! Thadd, I'm sorry I'm so bad!" He throws himself at the Warden, curling around him tightly. "Please don't put me down there! I'll be good! I'll stop taking stuff! Please don't throw me away!"

"Hey, hey, hey, where's this coming from?" Thaddeus hugs the boy close to him, rubbing at his back soothingly, as he cries himself hoarse into his chest. "Put you where?"

"In Solitary!" He wails softly, pressing closer to the Warden, clutching at the back of his tunic desperately. "It's dark down there! And I saw her….And she said….She said I'd go there…..I—I…Please don't send me there! I'll be good, I swear! I'll be better!"

"In Solitary?" He smooths his curls down gently. "You went downstairs?" Jahoel nods against his middle. "Jahoel, you know you're not allowed to go down there."

"I know! I'm sorry! Please don't put me in the empty cell!"

"Put you in the empty cell?" He pulls him back slightly. "I wouldn't put you down there."

"You wouldn't?"

The Warden shakes his head. "No, I wouldn't. Solitary is for violent offenders, and I'm sorry, but you're about as violent as a puppy." He rubs his head lightly. "Who'd you see?"

"Isdel. She—She said she was there for crimes against the Host and experimentation. She left me….She left me in the Garden and didn't come back. She said you would all get tired of me the way I am and throw me away and throw away the key."

"I would never do that," he caresses his cheeks lightly. "You don't throw away the ones you love."

He sniffles softly, rubbing at his nose lightly. "You love me?"

"I do," he nods. "Very much."

"I love you too, Thadd." He hugs himself close again. "Please don't make me go back to my cell."

Thaddeus hums softly, rubbing his fingers through the boy's wild curls. "Why don't you come stay with me tonight?"

"Will you help me feel better?"

"I will." He nods, turning them around, tucking the young angel against his side, frowning at the little fingers that curled around the back of his belt. His trip downstairs had shaken him, he needed something a bit more physical right now, he pulled him closer. "Let's go upstairs." Jahoel nods, following after him dutifully, tucking himself against his side, clutching at his belt tightly.

They take the stairs one at a time, so he can hang onto the Warden as much as he wants, Thaddeus pushes his door open, he knows it would have been unlocked, and guides him into the room, closing the door behind them. He kicks his boots off, the little prisoner wiggles his toes, though he now has boots of his own he still prefers to go barefoot. Thaddeus guides him over to the desk, where he takes up two bands, and then to his bed, he sits on the edge, and tugs the younger angel down to sit with him, between his legs. Jahoel rests his hands over his knees, as the Warden gathers his wild curls into two large puffy buns over top of his head, keeping his curls out of the way, out of his eyes.

When he's down he curls his arms around the little prisoner's waist. "I promise you." His beard brushes against his ear as he presses a warm kiss to the side of his head. "I would never let you spend even a moment down in that cell. And, I'm the Warden, you all go where I say for you to go."

"You swear?"

"I swear." He nods against his cheek. "You belong up in the light, where I can keep my eye on you, not down there." He rests his chin on the boy's shoulder. "Think of it no more. Get it out of your mind. There's nothing to worry about."

"Isdel abandoned me, Thadd, she said she got bored of me."

He rubs their cheeks together. "I don't know how she could, you make my life interesting every day, don't pay her no mind," he brushes his nose against the boy's cheek. "You've got me now."

"I've got you now."

He nods. "And, I'll never leave you." He rubs their cheeks together again and tightens his embrace a bit more. "You're stuck with me."

"I'm happy to be stuck with you."

"Good, because I'm not going anywhere." He tightens his grip again and leans back, laying over his bed, pulling the younger angel up over his chest as he does. "And, I'm not letting you go. You're mine, now." He nuzzles into the side of his neck, and Jahoel shrieks lightly, trying to scrunch his shoulder up. "You hear that, you're all mine, and no one else's." He shakes his head lightly, rubbing in close, and the younger angel squirms over top of him, arching to the side as far as his embrace will allow. "Say it."

"I'm ahahhall yohohhours!"

He pulls away slightly, pressing a kiss under his ear. "Damn right you are, you're my little miscreant, my little kleptomaniac, and I wouldn't have you any other way."

"You mean it?"

"I do." He tugs the boy over, and Jahoel slides down to lay beside him, curled against his side, he rubs his thumb over his forehead lightly. "Now, the reason I was away, I talked to Michael. He agreed, despite your history, that you mean no harm and that one hundred days is a bit harsh." He smiles down at him. "You're free to go."

Jahoel leans up, pressing his elbow to his chest. "So, I have to leave now?"

"I thought we already went over this," Thaddeus smiles down at him, rubbing his thumb over his forehead again. "You'll just stay with me now, not inside of a cell, you'll stay with me up here. You clearly need someone there to keep an eye on you."

The little angel stares up at him, a smile slowly spreading over his features, as he curls back around the Warden's side. "I'd like that."

"I'm glad."

Jahoel cuddles closer, resting his head in the crook of his arm, the fingers of his right-hand curling lightly in the front of his tunic. "Do you have to go?"

"Well," he rubs at his head lightly. "I do have to make my rounds, check in on my prisoners, I've been away for a while today."

He rolls his eyes fondly when he takes sight of the little thief's pout. "But I can afford taking a light nap with my little angel."

"Good," Jahoel cuddles closer. "Because, I wasn't moving."

"Is that so?"

"Mhm." He closes his eyes, curling into his side, wrapping his arm up around him. "You're comfy."

"Am I?" He pulls him around with his arm and tugs him up. "Come here, then." He pulls the boy up to rest over top of him, his head cushioned on his chest, his legs resting between his own, and Jahoel sighs happily, nodding against his chest. "You take a nap, you had quite the adventure today, I'm here." He curls his arms around him, rubbing at his head lightly with his left hand. "I've got you."


	175. The Problems With Solitary Confinement

"Thadd?" He speaks against the Warden's stomach, resting against him, as the sun slowly began to set out the window.

"Hmm?" He flips through to the next page of the file he was reading, threading his fingers through his curls, scratching at his head lightly. Jahoel presses his head back down, like a cat getting its head scratched, and hums in content. "You had a question, remember?"

"Oh, right," He shakes his head to get the fingers to still, at least while he was working on his question, when he was done, they could go back to their scratching. "Why do we still have solitary confinement?"

"Because, there are some prisoners who would cause more harm then good in general population." He rubs at his head again. "I keep them there to keep everyone safe."

"But isn't that…...Bad?" He looks up at him, his head poking under the file, his eyes meeting those of the Warden's. "I mean…Isn't it bad to keep them all locked away in the darkness all day? Couldn't that…Couldn't that hurt them?" He looks down, picking at the older angel's shirt lightly. "I was kept in solitary once, for a week, because of Theo, I nearly went crazy down there, and I was only there for a week."

He lowers the file slightly, looking down at him with a little more attention then he had, admittedly, been giving him. "You were in Solitary for a week?"

The little angel laying over him nodded. He frowns, reaching down with one hand to poke him in the nose. "I'm sorry, Oel, I never would have wanted you to experience that."

Jahoel smiles slightly, scrunching his nose up at the poke, and ducks under his finger when it comes down to poke him again. "If you wouldn't want me to experience that, then what makes it okay for them to?"

"You think they should be moved?" He closes the file completely, he knows he's done reading it anyway, and sets it aside on his bedside table. "Where to? I won't have them anywhere near the minor offenders, it would be too dangerous."

The younger angel rests his chin over his hands, crossed over the Warden's stomach, and he shrugs lightly. "I don't know. Isn't there any empty cell blocks around here?" He rubs his nose with a finger. "There's not as many prisoners as there were before and there's a great turnover rate now that you're back in the game."

"Well," Thaddeus rubs at his chin lightly. "There isn't any one in Delta Block. Nothing would change for their rules and everything, still in their cells 23 hours a day, constant supervision, but with a bit of natural lighting over that of lanterns. Delta Block has the same kind of doors they have now, they don't get to have the gates that everyone else does, for security reasons, but they could have a window to look out from." He nods down at the little angel. "I can see what can be done, it'll take the entirety of a day, but we can move them." Jahoel purrs in content when those fingers return to scratching at his head, laying his head back down again, nuzzling closer. "You're right, of course, that most certainly could be more harmful to keep them down there."

"Mhmm." He rubs his cheek against his stomach. "That feels good."

The older angel chuckles warmly. "It does?"

He nods, his eyes closing softly. "It feels really good."

"Good enough to make you fall asleep?"

"Mhmm."

Thaddeus smiles down at him. "Then I'll keep on going with this and see how long it takes to put you down."

"Tha's no' fair."

"Well, life isn't fair, is it?"

…

"Okay, you can stay down here, but you stay in this office," he holds him in place by the shoulders. "Do you understand me?"

"I won't leave the confines of this office."

He nods. "Not until I come to get you."

"Until you come to get me."

"Very good." He ruffles his curls lightly and lets him go, Jahoel darts off, claiming the leather chair behind the Warden's desk, propping his feet up on the desk, he reclines backwards, his arms curling under his head. "I won't step foot out of this office until you come and say I can."

Thaddeus shakes his head fondly and nods, turning towards the door, he pauses at the last minute, pointing at him from over his shoulders. "Stay."

"I won't move an inch."

"Good." He nods to the spare keys on the desk, they were getting a new guard, and those were for him. "And, those better be left where they are, little sticky fingers better not touch them."

Jahoel holds his hands up. "They won't move even a centimeter."

"They better not."

"I swear they won't!"

"Good."

He closes the door behind him as he leaves, and he groans, folding over the Warden's desk. This is going to be the worst four hours of his life, he could have gone to stay with Saba and the others, but they were assisting in moving the Prisoners from Solitary to Delta Block, leaving him to find his own entertainment for that entire time. It was like asking for the impossible, how was he supposed to entertain himself all on his own. This place was impossible, he wasn't allowed to read the files, he wasn't allowed to play with Thaddeus's whip, all there really was to do was sit here and stare at the walls.

He spins around in the chair for a good twenty minutes, until he's dizzy, and feels like he's going to hurl.

Then he chooses a book from the Warden's bookcase and tries to read, he lasts maybe thirty minutes, before he loses interest.

He chances a glance at the clock and groans, it's only been forty minutes, and he groans deeply, letting his head crash down on the desk before him.

Wishing something interesting would happen, something to entertain him, he'd go for anything.

…

"What do you mean one of them are _missing_!"

"He's gone! He was just right here!"

"Go find him! Before he gets too far!"

"Of course, sir!"

"Then what are you _still _doing here!"

A scream echoes through the halls and every one freezes, turning in it's direction. The Warden stands still for a moment, eyes wide, and darts off. "Jahoel!"

…

This wasn't what he meant! When he wished for something interesting to happen, he hadn't wished for this, not for the door to slam open, a heaving, huffing and puffing man to appear there. He sits up straighter in the chair, tensing at the sight of him, the man ignores him for a moment, eyes setting on the keys sitting on the Warden's desk, Jahoel's eyes follow his gaze, landing on the keys.

They jump forward at the same time, the Prisoner jumping forward from the doorway, Jahoel jumps up from the chair, onto the Warden's desk, snatching up the keys quickly.

"Give me those, boy!"

"No!" He jumps over the Prisoner as he dives forward, kicking him between the shoulders as he lands over the desk, using the extra momentum to propel himself forward. "You'll have to catch me first!"

The Prisoner growls lowly, jumping around, and he, admittedly, screams just a bit, curls his fingers around the thick whip, and darts away.

He can hear the sound of the other's boots running after him, he chances a glance over his shoulder, eeping as he takes in the proximity, and reaches for the gate of an empty cell, swinging it open quickly as he darts passed it, it slows the Prisoner down a moment, but he catches himself quickly, throwing the gate away.

Yelping, he throws himself around a corner, sliding from the momentum, almost tumbling over his own feet, but he catches himself, and continues on down the path he's chosen. He jumps over a wooden bench, turning in the moment, and kicks it at him, before turning and darting off again.

He hears the Prisoner stumble over the offending object, and he laughs softly, it's the simplest things that catch people up, he curls his fingers around the next corner and flings himself around. He chances another glance over his shoulder and yelps, but he crashes into someone before he can do much of anything. He yelps loudly, stumbling back from the impact, falling over his own two feet, crashing onto the floor under him.

"Jahoel," he knows that voice, it's the voice that reads aloud from his book as he drifts off to sleep, the voice that greets him every morning, the voice that comforts him and makes him laugh. "Are you alright?"

"He…Keys…..Whip…" Thaddeus nods down at him, taking the keys he holds up to him, tucking them in his pocket, and then he takes the whip. It's not as close to his heart as it used to be, but everyone needed a weapon, especially if they worked in the Prison. He stands, stepping over the younger angel, standing before him protectively, he eyes the Prisoner closely, snapping his whip open. "You will go with them peacefully, or I will send you right back where you came from, don't think I'll hesitate."

The Prisoner eyes his whip, he may not have used it in a while, but he still knows it like the back of his hand. He eyes the Warden and bows in defeat, letting three of the guards rush forward and take hold of him, and drag him away. Jahoel stands, using him as leverage to help him back to his feet. Thaddeus tucks his whip into his belt and turns, smiling at the little angel behind him, Jahoel smiles back, jumping at him. He catches the little angel and spins him around, brushing his curls back fondly. "Good job, you did well."

"Sorry I touched the keys."

"I'll let it slide in this one instance."

…

"Oh, Oel," he falls still at the approach of singing voice, turning to peer over his shoulder at the approaching form of the Warden, he's not sure he likes the light shining in his eyes. "I'm in the mood to play."

"But," he turns, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "Didn't you play with the new prisoners today?"

"Oh, I did," he continues his approach, coming up the rest of the stairs. "They've had an encounter with the welcome wagon." He sighs, coming up behind him. "But I miss playing with one of my favorite toys."

"Oh, yea," Jahoel backs up a step, eyeing his devious smile. "Who's that?"

"Well, I have a few," Thaddeus tilts his head. "Saba, Gadreel, _you_."

He has little time to prepare himself as the Warden jumps at him, he yells in surprise, tackled back on the bed behind him. He shrieks brightly, scrunching up as a bearded face burrows into the side of his neck, he pushes at the Warden's chest desperately. "Thahahahhahaadd! Nohohhoho! Ahahahahahaha! Gehehehehet ohohohout!"

He nuzzles in close. "I don't think so."

Jahoel shrieks, pushing his at the Warden even still, curling his fingers into the front of his tunic. "Thehehehehe behehehehahahahahard! Nohohohot thehehehee behehehaahahhaard!"

"Oh, I know how much you love it." He pulls away, smiling down at the giggling little angel, and presses their foreheads together. "I trimmed it just for you." He leans over to the other side, and the little angel shrieks, scrunching up his shoulder before he had a chance to get in there. "Let me in, little angel."

"Nohohoho!"

He reaches down, digging his fingers in the young angel's ribs, Jahoel shrieks again, lowering his arms to protect his ribs, and it allows the Warden in. Thaddeus nuzzles into the other side of his neck, and he shrieks brightly, pressing his cheek against the older angel's neck, pushing at his chest once again. "Thank you."

"Ahahahahahhaaha! Nohhohohohoho! Nohhoohoohot ahahahhahagain! Thihihihihis ihihihihiis thehehehhee wohohohorst!"

"You think this is bad, my guardian used to do this to me all the time, I couldn't stand it," he pulls away again, looking up at him, Jahoel doesn't like that smile, not one bit. "Let's give this belly a try."

His eyes widen, and he shakes his head. "Nohohhohoho! Wehehehehe ahahahahren't eheheheheven ihihihin thehehehe tohohohohorture chahahahaamber!"

"I don't need to take you to the torture chamber," he crawls downwards softly, hovering over his belly, and Jahoel shrieks before he touches him, shaking his head frantically. Thaddeus chuckles up at him. "I can torture you anywhere I want, now."

The Warden looks down at his belly, and he shrieks again, shaking his head. He squeals brightly, when the Warden buries his face into his belly, and kicks his feet wildly behind him. "Nohohohohoho! Ahahahahahahahahaa! Stohohohohhop! Geheheheheheet ohohohohoff! Thahahahhahaaaddd! Plehehehehhease! Mehehehehheercy!"

"Tell me how much you love me?"

"Lohohohohots! I loohhohohove yoohohhohou lohohohots!"

"Aww," he laughs softly, curling his arms around his stomach, turning them over. Jahoel curls around him. "I love you too, Oel."


	176. Not Ready To Make Nice

She hums to herself as makes her way up the stairs to the Infirmary, Zed needed his supplies restocked, Josh was busy working with some new vines, he'd be right behind her after a moment, so it left it to her to make their deliveries. She'd already seen Semyaza and Puriel, Zed was the last on her list of persons to deliver to.

Hoping up the last step, she moves through the healers fluidly, it's like a dance, and she knows the dance. She runs the rest of the way, he's bent over his workstation, reading something from an old worn journal, he runs his finger along the page, and flips to the next, not noticing the little Gardener running his way.

He does feel her though, as she jumps up on his back, he laughs softly, spinning around quickly. She giggles, throwing her arms out wide, he comes to a stop and raises his arms, making it easier for her to crawl around him, hugging herself to his front as he lowers his arms, hiking her up to sit on her workbench. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Eiael holds up the package up for him. "I came to deliver this."

"Ah," he takes the package. "My supplies. Thank you, little lady."

"Of course, sir."

The Virtue smiles, poking her on the nose, she smiles, scrunching up her nose lightly. She leans forward, curling her fingers around the edge of the table, kicking her legs back and forth slightly. "What are you working on?"

"A little bit of everything." Zed sets his package down, undoing the binding straps, and begins emptying it around them. "What are you working on?"

"Oh, you know," she mocks as though she's examining her nails. "A little bit of everything."

"You little copier," he pokes her in the belly and she giggles curling in on herself a bit. "Making any new flowers?"

"Not right now," she kicks her legs lightly. "I'm taking a bit of a break."

"A break, huh?" He spares her a glance. "Been busy, have you?"

"Oh, you know, all work no play." She shrugs lightly. "Makes for a very boring life."

"Oh, I understand very well." He returns to emptying his package, and putting his new fresh ingredients away, sifting the old ones to the front, as to not waste the new ones frivolously. "All work and no play makes for a very boring Zed."

"You do get it!"

"But," a new voice joins them, and she stiffens, a harsh expression taking over her features, and it is not lost on the Apothecary. "How can one play if one does not finish their work?"

The Virtue straightens, sliding over to stand before the small Gardener, curling his fingers around her knees to keep her in place. "Raph, what brings you here?"

"Can I not come visit two of my favorite young ones?"

Eiael scoffs softly, and he squeezes her knees lightly, he chuckles softly. "I'm hardly a young one, anymore."

"You will always be a young one of mine." She tenses has a hand rests on her curls. "Just as you always will be, little lotus."

Eiael stares up at her older brother, trying her hardest to ignore the large hand resting over her curls, this is different, this hand, it's caused her so much pain, caused her so much heart ache, it's different from Josh's. It's not one that offers comfort, not one that offers protection, it's not gentle and calming. It's not like Akriel's, the fingers always threading through her curls, rubbing at her head lightly, absently, as he reads through a book or a file. It's different then Oren's, poking her in the belly and tugging at her ear playfully, it's not like his. It's not like Zed's, his fingers curling around her middle to lift her up onto his work bench, poking her in the nose lightly, it's no playful and kind.

It's caused her so much pain.

Zed's fingers curl tighter around her knees as her face sets into a sneer, he curses Joshua's delay in arrival, as the plants on his workbench begin to wilt. He feels the room swell with emotion, over their shoulders, he sees Ephraim bend in on himself, clutching at his head. So, he feels it too. Akriel stumbles, he sees from over their other shoulder, as the floor under him begins to quake, his attentions shoots to them, as though he can feels his eyes on him from all the way over here. Oren drops an armful of files as he stumbles over his own feet. Constantine drops the pitcher of water he's carrying; it shatters upon impact with the floor.

The ground under them shook, as her fists clench tightly, and the only thing that keeps him upright is his grip on her knees. "Eia—"

"Don't you _dare_ touch me!" She turns on his workbench, jumping to her feet, she's always been an agile one. The Healer stumbles back in surprise, clearly not expecting such a reaction, though his surprise came as a surprise, he should have known that she would not have been as inclined to see him as he was to see her. "How _dare _you pretend that nothing happened!"

The little Gardener jumps over the edge of his workbench, facing the Healer head on, and he looks down as a crack in the stone worms between his feet. The light impact of her feet on the stone floor left something akin to a crater in its wake, the floor splintered around her, the flooring caved in slightly. She shoves the Healer hard enough that he stumbles back a step. "You ruined my life, and for what, _what _did I do?"

"Eia—"

"Was it because he was only a Gardener?" She sneers at him, throwing a hand back towards the Apothecary. "Because from what I hear, you had no such hesitation and anger when one of your precious _Virtues _wanted to teach someone, was that it? He wasn't good enough? He didn't have enough _right_?"

"I was wrong, I was guilty—"

"So, you only let _her _be taught because you were _guilty? _I hope you were _guilty_! I hope it _haunts _you! I hope it's _always_ on your mind!" She throws her arms out and the wall splinters, a line etching up the pillar. "Yet, you weren't guilty enough to come find me, were you? You just swept it under the rug, you righted your wrong, you let someone else do it, that made everything okay again? You scorned me for the same exact thing, but that was okay, because you moved on, you made it better again."

"That's not—"

"I can't _stand _you!" Eiael stomps her foot harshly, Akriel jumps aside as the floor splinters under him, his head shooting up to the enraged Gardener. "You think you were in the right, don't you? You still think it was okay, don't you? It was a moment of weakness, you were compromised, we were at war, there's always casualties in war, I was just another casualty." She steps forward, the Archangel takes a step back, not even an Archangel would stand against an angered Gardener, she could raze this entire building to the ground if pushed beyond that breaking point. "So, it's okay, that makes it alright, you think that, don't you? You're not guilty for doing it, no, you're guilty because it tarnishes your _flawless_ image. If they only knew, if they knew you'd have no hesitation to exile them, throw them out of their own _home _because your emotions were _compromised_!"

She shrinks back, as though offended by his mere presence, curling her arms around herself tightly. "You should have let me die." Her voice echoes around the silent Infirmary, there's a sharp inhale of breath, but no one is sure where it's coming from. "You have left me there to burn out. I would have rather died then be in your debt. I'd rather have been sent back to Father then be saved by you. You didn't bring me back because _you _wanted to, because you felt _bad_, you brought me back because Josh kept pestering you about it." The little angel shakes her head, her face screwing up, as though she'd eaten something sour. "I was out of sight, out of mind, you didn't have to live with your _guilt _if you didn't have to look upon your wrong doing every day."

"That's not at all what happened." The Archangel tries to cut in, but she's having none of it, she shakes her head bitterly. "Then, what happened? Tell me? Enlighten us all what it is that happened." She spreads her arms, allowing him this moment, this is his time to inject, but he doesn't so much as open his mouth. There was no excuse. "You can't tell us, can you, because then they'd all know who their archangel really is." She pokes him again, advancing another step, and he takes another in retreat. "You're _no _Healer. You're a _deceiver_. An _aggravator_. You're an _injurer_. I'd rather die a thousand deaths, over and over again, then have you be the one to save me." Eiael shakes his head. "But, you're no Healer."

They make their way over, stepping over the broken pieces of clay jugs and basins, trying to diffuse the situation before it escalated in a way that couldn't be brought back down. The stone under her feet rocked, crumbling, splintering like a spider web being weaved. She clenches her fists again, her temper close to snapping, close to that final breaking point, this was the epicenter of all her pain, all her anguish, and it all rested on the head of one individual.

Akriel catches her fists before she can throw them. "Hey, hey, it's okay, you need to calm down."

"Don't tell me what to do!" She throws him off, knocks him back, and he stumbles into his Captain. Oren catches him at the last minute, they both stumble over the uneven floor. "We're just having a little _chat_."

The walls tremble as tears overflow her eyes, and she clenches her fists, bending forward at the waist as she bites back a shuttering sob. "I _hate _you, Raphael, I _hate _you with the entirety of my heart."

As if by magic, he appears out of thin air, the elder Gardener stepping between the Healer and the younger. He curls around her, whispering softly, inaudible to their ears, and she melts into him, clutching tightly to his tunic, her shoulders heaving with the force of her silent sobs. He looks above her at the damage that has been wrought, and sighs sadly, raising his hand, he flexes his fingers and the uneven floor becomes whole again, one smooth surface, he fixes the small fissure in the floor, the crack running up the wall, he fixes the damage brought on by a nearly broken Gardener.

This was just an ounce of what they were capable of.

Akriel steps forward again, a tad more hesitantly, looking to the older Gardener for permission, a sign that it was okay to touch her, and Joshua nods. The mental specialist curls his arms around her, pulling her away from the Gardener gently, and she instead curls around him. He in turn whispers down to her, they can't make out what's being said, and they turn away from them.

Joshua watches them go sadly, sighing softly, and turns to the Healer. "We all must face the consequences of our actions."


	177. The State Of Panic

"Sir," he looks up at the quite, but alarmed, intrusion, setting aside the papers he had been working on, the Prison needed rearranging, after moving those in Solitary up, he needed to make sure the two cell blocks on either side were vacant, other than taking in more Solitary Prisoners, or mild offenders, that meant moving around many of those in general population. "One of the new one's is having a panic attack."

"What?" He begins to rise from his seat, unhooking his whip from his belt, setting it on his desk, the last thing they needed was someone in the midst of a panicked state getting their hands on a weapon. "Which cell? Show me."

The guard nods, turning on his heel, and hurries down the hall, turning left and he was at his heel the whole way, looking into the cells as they passed them, surveying the Prisoners, pressing against the bars of their cells as they tried to catch a glimpse of the one panicking. He's guided to cell number 267, and he turns into the doorway to catch sight of the panicking angel, their pale face a deep red, as they clutched at their front, heaving for a breath that just wasn't forth coming. He pushed the guards out of the way, stepping forward into the fray, pushing them back as he passed them. "Don't crowd him, get back, go back to your duties, I've got it handled." The guards salute and nod, turning on their heels, heading off to return to what they were doing before the alarm had been set.

He lowers himself to his knees in front of the young angel, clutching at their chest desperately, heaving and wheezing for air. "Hello." The little angel stares at him with wide honey colored eyes, mouth open slightly, air wheezing out of him frantically. "It's okay, can I touch you?"

There's a brief pause, the younger angel is unsure of him, they've all heard of him and his past, it's a shadow he's been working hard to come out from under. It was a slow but steady climb.

They nod slightly and he smiles at them, taking that as his official invitation, and reaches out, curling his hands around their cheeks, guiding their head around to face him, their eyes locking, he tilts his chin down. "I want you to watch me, alright, keep your eyes on me. Don't look anywhere but in my eyes, okay, can you do that?"

The younger angel nods frantically, staring at him with wide frightened eyes, and he nods. "We need to calm down your breathing before you pass out. You need to close your mouth," the younger angel does as he's instructed. "Good, good boy, now take a deep breath through your nose, and hold it." The angel takes a shaky deep breath, chokes on it, but holds it in as their told to. "We're going to count to three, alright, when we get to three, you're going to let the breath out through your mouth, lightly, like your blowing on a candle, alright?"

The young angel nods lightly. "One, two, three." They let out their breath, it shakes, but it's steadier then it was before. "Good, very good, take another breath, in through the nose."

They inhale deeply, the heaving in their chest slowly calming, he knows a soft ache is filling its place. "One, two, three, now out through the mouth." They exhale softly, like blowing on a candle, and he nods, offering another smile. "Good, very good, that's it, little guy. Now we're going to do it again, but this time we're going to count to six." The younger angel nods lightly, inhaling through their nose deeply. "One, two, three, four, five, six." He nods, and the young thing exhales. "Very good, you're doing great, one more time, count it out in your head this time, can you do that for me?" They nod, taking another deep breath, their breathing even now, no chance of them passing out, they've crossed that road and they're in the clear.

"Very good, you're doing great," he smiles to them again. "What's your name?"

"B—B—Barbados."

"Hello, Barbados," he smiles again. "I'm Thaddeus, I'm going to take care of you now, alright?"

Barbados returns his smile with a small shy one of his own, nodding lightly. "O-Okay."

"Good, very good, come with me, we're going to go for a change of scenery for a bit, alright?"

He nods, taking the Warden's hand when it's held out for him, guiding him to his feet, and he walks him gently from the cell. They turn the corner of the hall, and continue down, he eyes the cells as they pass them, he can feel the tightness returning to his chest, and he chokes softly. "Hey, hey it's okay, keep looking straight ahead, don't look to the sides, just focus on what's in front of you." He nods, turning his head forward, watching as the open door at the end of the hall grows closer and closer.

Thaddeus guides him inside, closing the door behind him, and over to a cot pushed against the far wall. "Let's get you a nap now, we'll talk more when you wake up, I'll be right here with you, do you see my desk?" He nods lightly, as he's turned, pushed down gently to sit on the edge of the cot. "I'm going to be right there, lay on back, that's it, against the pillow." He turns, laying on the caught, his head cushioned by the pillow. "You rest, I'll wake you up for supper, and then we'll talk, alright?" Barbados nods silently, settling back against the cot and pillow, raising his arms slightly as the Warden pulls the blanket up over him, this isn't so bad, it's not as scary as they had made it out to be, he's not as bad as the rumors speak of him, he's nice and kind and patient.

Warm fingers brush his hair back. "Get some sleep, it's alright, I won't let anything bad happen to you here." He nods lightly, his eyes fluttering softly. "We'll talk later, that's it, close those eyes." He nods, his eyes fluttering closed, and fingers massage his scalp lightly. "Just relax. I'll watch over you. Nothing's going to hurt you here."

…

He's throat is closing up, he can hardly breath, his vision is getting fuzzy, he stumbles over his feet as he makes the trek in from the Training Field, he needs help, he needs that one person, the one that always protects him, the one that always makes it all better, he needs his most trusted. His hands shake as he collapses against the closed wooden door, it makes it difficult to curl his fingers around the door handle, he knows he shouldn't just barge in, the door is closed, that means he's in the middle of a meeting, not to be disturbed, but he can't wait. He needs him now. He needs his help now. His fingers slip a few times, but he manages to get passed the shaking of his hands and curl them around the door handle enough to turn it.

He knows the lock clicks open but he can't hear it. All he hears is the ringing, everything is too muffled, it's like he's underwater. It's all too far away.

The door opens, he managed to do it, he mentally congratulates himself, or he would, if he could think straight. He knew he was interrupting a meeting; he opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Was he going to apologize? Say that he needed help? He doesn't know, he can't wrap his mind around it enough to form the thought, let alone remember how to speak the words.

There's another person in there, he can make out their form, but his only focus is on the one sitting behind the large desk. They wave a hand, dismissing the other from the room, and scoots back from their desk, motioning for him to come forward. The door slips closed behind him, he doesn't hear it, but he feels the rush of air as it does. He stumbles forward, into the reach of those large hands, they curl firmly around his arms, turning him around, and they pull him down. Those arms curl around his stomach as he's settled to sit on their lap, pulling him back, flush against their chest, those arms curl around him firmly, he can feel them over the din of hysteria, they're there and solid and warm.

Something warm and fuzzy rubs over his ear, it's a beard, he knows that, it's his beard. "It's okay, Hani, you're alright, baby brother."

He nods stiffly, pressing back against his older brother's chest. "H—H—Hurts."

"I know it does. It'll pass. Just hang with me. Grab on." One of the arms uncurl from around him, a large hand held up for him, and he reaches for it, curling the fingers of both his hands around it, it curls around the fingers of his right hand tightly. He curls it up against his chest tightly, curling around it, it presses against his chest, pressing him back. "Hang on tight." He can hear that voice, it's clear, it's firm, it's worried, it's close, right by his ear. "That's it. You're okay. Big brothers got you. I won't let anything happen to you."

"B—B—Big b—brother h—has m—me."

"That's right, I've got you, it's going to be okay. Just focus on my voice, can you focus on my voice?" He nods shakily. "I want you to focus on the sound of my voice. Everything's going to be okay. Take a deep breath for me, hold it in until I tell you to let it go." He nods, inhaling deeply, Haniel waits patiently for his older brother's instructions. "Let it go." He exhales slowly, he knows how to do this, he's had enough panic attacks to know how to treat them. Nisroc always helps. He'll make it better again. He always makes it better. "Good boy, very good, Hani. I'm so proud of you, big brother is so proud, can you lay back?" The other arm unwinds from his stomach for the hand to curl around his forehead, guiding his head back against his older brother's shoulder, resting in the curve of his neck, his beard rubs against his cheek. "That's it, you're doing great, now close your eyes. Close those eyes for big brother."

Haniel sighs deeply, his first sigh, as fingers rub over his forehead, and he closes his eyes, they slide shut. "Good boy, now listen to my breathing, just focus on the rise and fall of my chest on your back, just focus on that, nothing else, everything else can just fade away." He nods again, resting there, his eyes shut, the tension slowly rolling from his shoulders, as he just focuses on the slight rise and fall of his chest.

Up, down, up, down, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

He settles down, the tension fading, the fingers rubbing at his forehead are soothing, a thumb is rubbing over the knuckles of his right hand.

If he falls asleep like that, no one ever says anything, let alone his big brother. Nisroc just sits there, reclining back in his desk chair, letting his baby brother clutch onto his hand, curling his arm around his waist firmly, and he lets him sleep.

…

He screams, scrabbling at his neck, throwing himself forward in his blinded state, choking on another scream, it dies in his throat, his breathing picking up.

_It hurts. It hurts. Make it stop. Help me. Save me. _

His body is on fire, it all hurts, everything hurts, he just wants it all to stop. Just make it stop. Someone save him. He's here, right here, come and get him. Come find him. He doesn't want to be alone anymore. Please, someone, someone save him.

_They burn. It all burns. Help me. Someone help me._

He falls to his knees, his chest aching, growing sorer by the minute, his mind a haze, stuck between flashes, bits and pieces of memories playing before his eyes. He doesn't want to be trapped here again. Someone get him out. Don't put him back in that cell. Don't let them carve into him again. No more whip lashes. Stop. Make them stop.

_My neck. My neck burns. Make it stop. Help me. It burns. It hurts. Please, help me._

His can hear someone calling his name, he pushes himself up, fingers still curled around his neck, he meets dark purple eyes and lunges forward. Arms catch him, safe arms, they'll make it better, he knows how to make it feel better again, he'll make it all better. He did the last time. He helped. He made him feel all better again. Arms gather him close, closing around him firmly, he feels the ground fall out from under him and he curls around them even more, pressing his face against his neck, he's warm, he's real, he'll protect him from the darkness. He can feel them swaying, they're walking, he's walking, carrying him from his room, everything's a blur, he can't focus on it.

He comes to rest on the cool stone, it's damp under his fingers, he knows this room, he just can't place it in his mind. His tunic is tugged up over his head gently, fingers press against his back, into the sore spots, over his shoulder, they press in deeply, rubbing at the ache, massaging it away. Those purple eyes return, he stares at them, as fingers curl in the waist of his trousers, shimmying them down, pulling them over his ankles, until he's left in his under garment. Arms wind around him again, one looping under his knees, the other around his shoulders, and the floor falls away again.

When he's set down this time, something cool surrounds him, fighting off the burn, it wraps around him like a blanket. Legs brace around him, his arms are positioned over the legs, curled down around them, it allows him to hold his face above the water, but for it to cover over his burning neck. It fights off the burn, it's soothing, he knew that he would know how to make it better again, he always does.

"It's alright, Tus, you're alright." Fingers rub lightly at his neck, massaging away the ache and pain, leaving nothing but soothing coolness behind. "I've got you. I'll make it all better again."

He licks his lips, trying to force the words out. "P—P—Puri." He takes a deep breath. "H—H—Hurts." He feels his chest tighten again, and fingers reach up to rub at his chest lightly, soothing the tension. "H—H—Help m—me."

"I know it does." Those fingers return to rubbing softly at his neck, soothing circles, tracing along the scars, light and gentle. "It's okay, big brother's here, I'm going to make it all better again. You just relax. Let the cool water sooth away the burning. Just relax." Puriel scoops up a handful of cool water and pours it over his forehead. "You're okay. You're with me. I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you. You're safe here. I'll protect you. You're alright. You're at home."

Titus blinks his eyes owlishly. "H—Home?"

"That's right," cool wet fingers rub at his cheeks lightly, moving down to rub at his ear lobes, then back to his neck. "You're home. Puri has you. Big brother has you. Nis is making chicken and potatoes for supper. Abe is changing your bedding, he's going to bring us some new clothes, we're just going to soak here for a bit."

He tilts his head slightly, his cheek pressing to his older brothers' thigh. "B—Bedding?"

"Yes, your bedding." Fingers reach under him to rub at his bad shoulder, he sighs in relief, the tension melting under the knowledgeable fingers. "You were sleeping when you fell into panic, you had a bit of an accident, nothing to worry about, we'll clean it up and get you back in bed. You're going to eat supper in bed tonight."

He stutters still, not as bad as before, but it's still pronounced. He stutters when he gets this bad. It was a bad attack. Puriel heard him screaming from the Lounge, he doesn't know what brought it on though, he hadn't had an attack this bad since he became a Power. "S—Sorry."

"Hey," a finger strokes down the bridge of his nose. "Nothing to be sorry for. It was an accident, accidents can happen, it's alright. We'll take care of everything, you just relax, we'll take care of you." He returns to rubbing at his shoulder, massaging in deeply. "What happened?"

"D—Dark. I—It h—hurt. C—Couldn't s—see. A—Alone."

"I see, we're going to keep your lamp on for the next couple of nights, alright, so you can see where you're at, does that sound like a plan?"

Titus nods lightly. "S-Stay?"

"We'll stay with you too, Nis is going to stay with you tonight, he's going to bring you supper when it's done. I'll stay with you until he comes." He rubs his fingers over his head, returning to rubbing at his neck, his neck had always been the epicenter. "You just relax, close your eyes even, we'll take care of everything for you."

The younger Power nods lightly. "S—Sora?"

"You're little boy is just fine. He's going to stay with Saba while we take care of you. You don't worry about a thing, we'll take care of it all, your big brothers are going to take care of you now. You just relax. Just take a deep breath and relax."

He nods, closing his eyes softly, letting the cool water sooth his aching muscles, making the burn fade off, leaving nothing but calmness. The rub of the fingers lull him out, he doesn't know he's fallen asleep until he wakes up, in his room, new bedding, in dry clothes, and a plate being set on his bedside table.

Nisroc smiles down at him, stroking his fingers over his forehead. "Hey, Tus, everything's okay. We're going to take care of everything. You just rest. Relax. Everything's going to be alright." He nods to the plate of chicken and potatoes. "Hungry?"

He nods softly, sitting up against his pillows, he reaches up to feel his neck, his eyes widening at the feeling of fabric, bandages, there's bandages wrapped around his neck. He looks up to the older Power with wide horrified eyes.

The elder Power sits on the edge of his bed, taking one of his hands into his own. "It's alright, Tus, you just scratched up your neck a bit, they're there to keep the scratches from being rubbed against." He turns, picking up the plate, and sets it in his lap. "Here, eat some supper, while it's still warm." He nods silently, reaching for a piece of chicken, pausing with it curled in his fingers.

"Stay?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

…

He yells as he tumbles out of bed, kicking at the binds around his legs, scrabbling blindly to free himself, if he doesn't free himself he's going back to the back room, the torture isn't playful anymore, it doesn't make the music of laughter, it makes a different sort of music now. He screams again, his attempts at escape futile, he doesn't want it, he doesn't want to face it again, he's not strong enough.

_Someone help me. Someone help. Don't just stand there! Help me!_

He hears the door slam open and he screams again, curling in on himself, voices argue in the doorway, softly, quietly. They're here to take him, they're going to take him back now, he struggles harder, another voice joins them, deeper, firmer, and the arguing falls silent.

A voice calls out to him, softly, and he uncurls slightly to peer up at it, from under his arm he sees luminescent blue eyes staring back at him, he knows those eyes, those eyes belong to someone who helps him. He cries out, reaching for them blindly, warm fingers curl around his middle, under his arms, and heft him up, a voice rumbles around him, his head pressed to their chest, and someone moves, they climb into the bed he was laying on, the one he'd fallen out of, it's slowly coming back to him. Bit by little bit. He's lifted from the floor, those fingers curled around his middle, under his arms still, and he's set back on the bed, someone's behind him now, he's laying over top of someone, they're warm under him, solid, real.

Fingers brush his bangs back lightly, he's pressed back against someone's chest, something fuzzy rubs over the side of his head. He feels the bed dip at his feet, the binds around his legs is removed and he whines softly, they're going to lock him on the table now, he doesn't want it. He doesn't want it. Please help him. _Please help him. Somebody help him. _

"Gaddy, it's okay." He goes tense at the voice, whining deeply, a guttural whine, deep in his chest, and he starts to squirm as panic begins to set it again. "Gaddy, it's alright, it's Thadd, it's okay." The voice is so close to him, it's right there, _he's _right there.

"I told you this was a bad idea!"

"Be quite, Abner, not now." The deeper voice reprimands. "Thadd, try something else, that name clearly brings about something darker, what did he call you when he was young?"

"It's Taddy, grasshopper." The voice that rumbles under him whispers in his ear. He falls still, breathing harshly. It's Taddy. Taddy makes everything better again. He protects him. He remembers Taddy. Taddy makes him laugh, Taddy comforts him, Taddy's always there. "Taddy's got you. You're alright." _'Grasshopper'. _Only Taddy knows that name. Only Taddy calls him that. Taddy's right there. Taddy's the one behind him, under him, he's laying against Taddy.

His chest heaves with a sob. "T—T—Taddy! H—H—Help m—me!"

"It's alright, grasshopper, Taddy's here. I won't let anything happen to you. Take a big breath for Taddy, can you do that?"

He nods, he wants to make Taddy happy, wants to make Taddy proud. It hurts, it's hard, but he takes a shaky deep breath.

"That's it, grasshopper, that's it, very good, you're such a good little angel," something fuzzy rubs over his cheek lightly, it's his beard, Taddy has a beard. "Now, let it out."

Gadreel nods, letting the breath go, his chest aches, it's too tight. _Taddy help_.

"Abner, sit here, rub his chest."

The bed moves again, it dips again, someone moved and someone else sat back down. He starts when fingers rub at his chest, his breathing picking up again, the deep voice rumbles once more.

"Thadd, give him your hand."

"Here, grasshopper, take Taddy's hand, hold on tight." He nods, taking the offered hand in both of his, the fingers of the hand curl tightly around the fingers of his right hand. The fingers return to rubbing his chest, the ache slowly fades, and he sinks back against Taddy, clutching at his hand tightly. His breathing slowly calms, the room starts to come back into focus, the panic starting to die down. Abner smiles at him, he's sitting beside him, on the edge of the bed, rubbing at his chest lightly. His blanket is bunched up at the bottom of the bed, his legs free, he's not in the back room, he's in his and Abner's room at the Pavilion, he wasn't being dragged down the hall, his legs had been trapped, it had all been a dream. A bad, horrible, no good dream. He was fine. He was safe. His eyes drift upwards, Tus smiles down at him, he was safe with Tus there.

"Hey, little guy." Tus is the deep voice, he realizes, it's Tus, Abner, and Taddy. "Bad dream?"

Gadreel nods, tucking his and Taddy's hands under his chin. "B—B—Bad."

"We're not going to let anything happen to you, little guy." He leans over, stroking the backs of his fingers over his damp cheek, brushing away the tear tracks. "You're safe. It's okay. It was just a dream."

"R—Real?"

"No, it wasn't real, just a dream, remember?" He stares up at the Power. "You were having a bad day and decided to take a nap. It was just a bad dream. That's all. Just a dream."

He licks his lips. "D—Dream?"

"That's right, just a dream, you should go back to sleep."

Gadreel shakes his head vigorously. "N—No! D—Dreams! B—B—Bad d—dreams!"

"I know, little guy," he turns to the bedside table, sighting through the little bottles there, looking for the right one. "Abner and Taddy are going to nap with you, and I'm going to give you something for the bad dreams, to help keep them away."

"O—Okay, T—Tus."

The Power hums softly, finding the one he's looking for, and picks it up with his fingers. "Here it is, Gaddy." He pulls the cap off and holds it out to him, Taddy reaches around him for the bottle, and holds it up to his lips. "It'll help you sleep better." He nods lightly, opening his mouth for the drink to be poured in, swallowing it with one gulp. The tension in his muscles washes away like rain washing a dusty window. He sighs, sinking back against the older angel underneath him. Abner smiles at him, climbing up to his right side, and they situate him between them. Taddy on his left and Abner on his right. He blinks owlishly up at the Power, he smiles down at him, brushing his fingers through his hair. Reaching down, he picks up the blanket, showing it to him first, and he nods, watching as the Power shakes it out and lays it over top of him. "You finish your nap, Gaddy, your big brothers will keep the bad dreams away.

He nods sleepily, clutching Taddy's hand with his right, and reaches for one of Abner's with his left, hugging them both close to his chest as the sleeping drug works it's magic, drawing him back to his nap.

Abner snorts, turning to look at the older angel next to him. "'_Taddy'_?"

"Shut up, _'Aby'_."

"Boys, not now."


	178. On The Hunt

He smiles as he walks down the hall of the block that holds his youngest offenders, about the same age as Jahoel, perhaps a bit older, some a bit younger, but all the same. The muted giggles and tense silent makes him smile. "That's what I like to hear in this hall." His voice echoes through the silence, as he makes his way slowly down the hall, purposefully stopping by a few cells just to get a rise out of the prisoners within. The Warden is on the hunt, a predator looking for its prey, and they're all out for the taking.

He stops at one of the middle cells, leaning against the frame, the gate hanging open inside. Barbados is claustrophobic, the cell being open helps him, and he trusts the boy not to attempt a jail break. The boy shies away from him, covering his smile with his hand, but he saw it, and he winks playfully. "How are you feeling, Ados?"

"Better."

"That's good, that's good, we'll leave the cell open for now." He points a finger at him. "Don't try and make a break for it, I can count the number of those who actually succeeded with one hand, don't find out what happens if you try."

He shakes his head. "I won't. I swear."

"You know what," he smiles at him playfully. "Go ahead. I want to see how that would play out."

"I think I'll kindly pass."

Thaddeus shrugs. "If you say so. The offer's always on the table." He winks at him again and pushes away from the frame, Barbados breaths a sigh of relief, he's spared for today, maybe, he could come back.

He continues down the hall, stopping at another cell, the occupant curls around himself tightly. "How about you, Kutiel? How does that belly feel today?" He turns towards the cell, reaching back, as though to grab his keys. "Is it feeling lucky?" He shakes his head, backing away a step, and he smiles, turning to the cell across from him. "How about you, Duma, do those armpits want some attention?" She shakes her head, biting back a soft giggle, curling her arms around herself tightly. "No? What a shame." He shares a glance between them. "You're both spared, for today." They breathe a sigh of relief and he shakes his head in amusement, continuing on his way.

He walks down a few more cells, stopping to tease a few of them here and there, before stopping and turning, watching his prey inside closely. "Rizoel, how are you?"

"Ummm….Good?"

"Good, good. Sleeping well?"

"Mmhmmm."

"That's great to hear," he rubs at his chin lightly. "I can't remember the last time we had some _quality _time together. I've neglected you."

"It's okay."

"But it's not. Everyone gets treated fairly here, its not fair that the others had had more quality time then you have."

"I'm really okay with that, thanks for the concern though."

"Of course, of course, we can't let this continue." He rubs at his chin again. "What was it with you, again? It's been so long I can't remember the best spots to play with…..Let me think." He turns to the guards a pace behind him and gestures to the cell he stands before, Rizoel's eyes widen, he is apparently not one of the ones being spared today and he curls himself around his bedframe, they'll have to pry him off. "This one, give his sides a good squeeze, it'll get him to let go of the frame."

They nod, stepping forward as he steps back, opening the gate quickly. One of the guard's struggle with him, squeezing his sides firmly, he yelps and lets go, reaching down to grab the guard's hands, and the other traps his wrists. He struggles and kicks, the guard holding his wrists gets kicked twice and loses his patience, spinning the young prisoner around, he yanks him over his shoulder instead.

Thaddeus snorts as they come out of the cell, the prisoner dangling over the taller guard's shoulder.

He follows behind them languidly, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, he has to know all the best places to play or it's just not a good time. He steps into the room as they finish strapping the young spy to the table, Rizoel, sentenced 200 days for espionage, he wasn't a very good spy though, considering he was caught. Thaddeus thought the sentence was a bit stiff, he was talking Michael down, as he did for most of his nonviolent prisoners. Michael had a big heart, it wasn't a difficult task, especially when it came to the reports he had for their good behavior.

Rizoel watches him closely as the guards make their leave and close the door behind them, he scratches at his beard as he stands at the boy's side, mauling his mind over the facts, he has many prisoners, sometimes he forgets the important things, but they always come to him eventually.

"Oh, I remember," he holds up a finger, "number one." He digs his fingers into the spy's left thigh, and he squeals brightly, kicking and twisting under his grip, shrieking with laughter when he curls his fingers underneath and digs into the meat on the underside. "Oh, you wish I'd forgotten, didn't you?" He climbs a bit higher, and the shrieking picks up in octave. "Sometimes it takes me a moment, but I _never_ forget." He curls the fingers of his right hand inwards, getting to the meat of the inner thigh, and the leg straightens, the toes spread, as he squeals again. "You know, I dared Barbados to try and escape, see where it lands him." He stills for a moment, the younger angel pants softly, staring up at him, a smile playing at his features. "You've tried to escape a few times since you've arrived, _remember _what I did when I _caught _you?"

The young prisoner curls his fingers into fists, and shrieks just thinking about it, he'd annoyed the Warden with those attempts, he hasn't tried since, this was him being playful, that, that was actual torture.

He smiles in amusement. "Oh, ho, ho, someone does remember." He wiggles his fingers a bit and his leg jerks, the young prisoner shrieks brightly. "You haven't tried since, though, have you?" He digs into his thigh again, the boy squeals and jumps, cackling with hysterical laughter. "I remember too. That was fun." He jumps over to his other thigh, and Rizoel squeals again, kicking his leg as best as he can, shrieking and squealing with laughter, it raises in pitch when he worms his fingers underneath. "Let's do it again."

His eyes widen and he shakes his head frantically, shrieking with laughter when his fingers wiggle into his inner thighs, not that, anything but that. Rizoel giggles feverishly when he finally pulls away from his thighs, shaking his head again. "Nohohoho! Nohohohot thahahahat!"

"Oh, what I say goes, and I say we're doing it."

"Nohhohoho!" The boy's eyes widen as he raises his tunic up, revealing his slightly toned belly from underneath, and tucks the shirt over his head, leaving him blinded to any possible attacks to come. "Nohohohohoho! Plehehehehehease! I've beehehehehen gohohohohood!"

"I know you have; you haven't had any runs in a while, I taught you well, didn't I?"

A finger wiggles under his belly button and he giggles softly, wiggling around, trying to shake it off. It goes nowhere.

"Thighs are number one, and, number two is," he claws his fingers into his belly, and he shrieks with laughter, arching his back lightly, as he falls back into hysterical cackles. "The belly." Two hands claw at either side of his belly and he loses it, he squeals brightly and shrieks with laughter, kicking his legs and tugging at his arms as much as he can. "Oh, the fun I've had with this belly." He spiders his fingers around in a circle and the younger angel shrieks, jumping from side to side, trying to evade his fingers, but he has no where to go. "I'm not doing this right if your not begging me to stop, I'm supposed to be torturing you, I know what'll get you begging."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, the fingers pull away, Rizoel starts to struggle feverishly. He shakes his head frantically under his tunic. "NO! Not those! No! NO! Stay away!" He starts to giggle lightly because he can't see what he's doing. "Stahahahahay ahahahaway! Nohoho! Not those! Get away! Gehehehet Awaahhay!" He takes a deep breath, dramatically, to make sure it's heard. The struggles grow more intense and the giggling picks up. "NO! NO! Nohohohot thohohohohoose! Nohoho! NOHOHO! EEIEIIAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NO! NOT AGAIN! NOHOHO! EEEIEIEEEIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! BAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA! EEIEEIEIEIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEHHEASE! EEIEIEIEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHAOHAHAHAHAHOOOO! EEIEIIEEIHEHEHAAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAABAAHAHAHAHAAHAHA!"

"Oh, these are the best."

"NOHOHO TEHEHEHHEHEHEEEY AAHAHAHHAHARENT! NONONO! NO WAIT! EEIEIEIEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHAHA AAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! STOHOHOHOP! NOHOHO MOHOHHORE! NONONO! EIEIEIEHEHEAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHA! EEIEIHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHHA AHAHAHAHAHHAHAA!"

"Remember when I caught you, we came back here, and I just took a breath and went—" "EIEIEIHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! YEHEHEHEHEHES! IHHIHIHIHI REHEHEHEHEMEMBEHEHEHER!"

"Good times, right?"

"NO! THEHEHE WOHOHOHORST! THE WORST! WAIT! WAIT NO! THADD! THADDY NO! EEEIEIAAAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA! AHAHAHAHHAA BAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! STOPSTOP! EEIEIIEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!"

"This is what little spies get."

"EEIIEEIHEHEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHA! PLEHEHEHEHEASE! EEIEIIEHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA AHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOT THERE! NOT THEEIEIEIIEAIHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! THADDY PLEASE! THAHAHAHAHHAAADDDYYYY! EEIEIEHEHEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA AHAHAHAHHAHAHA! IHIHIHIHIHIT TIHIHIHIHICKLES! STOHOHOHOP! DOHOHHOHOON'T! STOOHHOHHOOHOP!"

"Don't stop? I was going to, but okay."

"NO! NO! THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT! NOHOHOHO! THAHAHHAHAADDYYY! NOHOHOHO NONONO! GET AWAY! GEHEHEHET AWAHAHHHAHAY! I CAN'T SEE! IHIHIHIHIHI CAHAHHAHAN'T SEEHEHEHEHEHEHE! EIEIIEEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAH! NONO WAIT! EIEEIIEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA BAHAHAHAHAHAA! EIEIEIEHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHA! MERCY! MEEHEHEHEHERCY! EEIIEEIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA AHAHAHAAHAHAHA! I CAN'T BREIEIEIEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Oh, I love those," he rubs his hand over the prisoners heaving belly. "Especially when it comes to little spies. They get the worst torture there is to give."

"Plehehehehease! Thahahahahahaddy! Nohoho mohohore! Plehheheheheease!"

He chuckles fondly. "Aww, are you all worn out already?" He wiggles a finger into his right armpit, the little angel shrieks and turns away, trying to lean to the other side away from his finger. "We haven't even gotten to see these armpits yet." He reaches over to wiggle his finger into the other armpit, to get him back into place. "Should I show the little spy some mercy?"

"Yehehehes!"

Five fingers flutter over his armpit gently and he shrieks with laughter, trying to tug away from it. "What's in it for me?" He digs a finger into the hollow and the boy shrieks again. "I don't give mercy away for free. Especially to spies."

Rizoel takes a deep breath. "Huhuhug!"

"Hmmm, a hug in exchange for mercy?" He pulls away, stepping down to his feet, undoing the strap from the left and then the right, before returning to his head, reaching above him to undo the straps around his wrists. He tugs the tunic down from over his head and smiles down at him. "I think I'll take that deal."

The little spy laughs breathlessly, jumping at him from the table, and the Warden catches him, he always does when they play these games. He curls his legs around his waist and his arms around his neck, pressing his face to his neck, his beard rubs over the side of his head. "You're lucky you give such good hugs." Even still, he turns, carrying him out the door, and to the side, into his office, where all the freshly tortured prisoners go after their sessions. "What's your feelings on a nap?"

"On your cot?"

"Of course, where else?"

"I think I'm feeling up to it."

Thaddeus chuckles softly, setting him on his feet next to the cot, watching in amusement as he scurries under the blanket. "I thought you would." He rubs at his head lightly, kneeling beside him, ruffling his hair gently. "Get some sleep, kiddo."


	179. They All Go Down

He knows right from the start that something's not right, he can feel it, in his bones, he feels it. He's too hot under the blankets, but then he knows if he crawls out from under them that he'll be too cold, it's a miserable life to be living.

Whining pitifully, he crawls over the bed, up over the other occupant's side, curling around them like a squid. The other one yawns, rolling over, allowing him to curl around their front, and arms circle around him. "What's wrong, little buddy?" He whines again, rubbing his cheek against their chest, fingers stroke over his other cheek, then curl around his forehead. "Oh, Jahoel, you've got a bit of a fever there, little buddy."

"Hurts."

The Warden sits up against his pillows lightly, stroking his fingers through his curls lightly, that's why he feels so hot then. "Oh, this is my favorite time of the year. One person catches the bug and the entire ship goes down." Thaddeus strokes at his nose lightly. "Tell me what hurts, so I can help you feel better."

"My belly." He coughs softly into his hand, and frowns. "My throat, too."

"Well, alright, I know what you're doing today."

"Hmm?" He rubs his cheek over his chest again. Fingers stroke his curls down. "You're staying in bed, mister. No exceptions."

"You?"

"Aww, little buddy, I'd be happy to stay with you, but I've got to work."

"B—But, Taadddyyyy!"

"Now, don't you _'but Taddy' _me, you know you mean the world to me, but I've still got to take care of this place." He rubs at his cheek lightly. "But I'll come check on you throughout the day."

"Saba?"

He feels him shake his head softly. "Saba can't leave Sora, how about I send Os up to stay with you instead?"

"Osy."

"Alright, I'll send Os up to stay with you."

Thaddeus rubs at his curls lightly after that, watching him slowly slip back to sleep, tracing his fingers over his forehead, frowning at the heat that rolls off at him. Jahoel's nose is stuffy, he wheezes softly as he breathes, his fingers curled lightly in the front of his tunic. He'd have to put this place under quarantine, if someone got the bug, they all got the bug, it would spread like wildfire among them. He manages to shimmy out from under him when it comes time for him to get up, Jahoel's sleep isn't interrupted in the slightest, he mumbles and his nose twitches, but he settles against the warm pillow when he finally manages to slide out from underneath him.

He changes quietly, lighting the lamp on the bedside table, dimming it to a soft light, and sets a pitcher and glass before it, for the young angel to see when he was to wake up.

He'd send Os up to stay with him, he spends most of his days sleeping anyway, so what better then to have him come watch over a sick youngster who would spend most of their day sleeping too.

The Warden slips out of the room, careful not to make too much noise and wake the ill angel up, and heads down the stairs quietly.

A guard waits for him at the bottom.

"What seems to be the problem?"

It was not like the guards to be waiting for him at the bottom of his stairs.

"Sir, one of the minors didn't come to collect their tray for breakfast this morning."

Thaddeus sighs, it is that time of year, and rubs at his beard lightly. "Who was it?"

The guard nods. "Barbados."

Of course. "I'll check in on him. Gather a few others, I want them all checked for any signs of a fever, section them off, no one but us goes in or out."

"Yes, sir." The guard salutes. "What of their lessons?"

"Lessons are postponed for the foreseeable future."

"Understood, sir."

His first stop is to see Osmadiel. Rahab is more then happy to take care of everything for them both, when he asks if he'd be willing to go stay with Jahoel, they're all mighty fond of the boy in question, even him and little Sora have become good friends. They color together most days, or play with toy cars, they get along well.

Then he makes his way to the other little angel's cell.

He's curled up on his cot, dead to the world, and he can hear the wheeze of breath from the open door of his cell. Sighing softly, Thaddeus steps into the open cell, squatting beside the prisoner's cot, he reaches out and rubs at his forehead lightly. The heat of a fever warms his fingers. "Ados?"

The little prisoner hums, his eyes fluttering softly, opening up to look up at him.

He smiles down at him gently. "How are you feeling, little guy?"

Barbados licks his lips, his eyes fluttering softly, he's completely worn out. "Bad."

"You've got a bit of a fever there, little buddy."

"Don' like bein' si'k."

He chuckles softly. "I don't think anyone really does." He rubs his forehead lightly, tapping his ear softly. "Come on, little guy, I'm going to move you."

"Whe'e go'n?"

"You're going to sleep upstairs with Os and Jahoel."

"Mm'Kay."

He stumbles out of his cot slightly, nearly tumbling over, but he catches him, and lifts him into his arms. A warm forehead presses to the side of his neck as the little angel leans against him, curling his arms around his neck loosely, and Thaddeus turns, carrying him from the cell. Two of the guards that patrol the halls stand there waiting for him, he cared for his guards, he truly did, but sometimes it felt like he was holding their hands, as they waited for him to give them orders. "Well, how do the rest of them fair?"

"A few complain of upset stomach, but only one has come down with a fever."

He adjusts his hold on Barbados. "Who?"

"The spy, he is warm to the touch, very languid. He isn't moving much."

"I see, I'll tend to him once I get this one to where he's going." He glances over their shoulders and down the hall, the young Prisoners usually come to the front of their cells at the sound of his voice, this time it's a ghost town. "For supper they will all have vegetable soup and crackers, warm tea and cool water, leave them each a small jug of water and a cup, check on them every so many hours." He returns his gaze to the head guard for the minors' block. "If any of them seem to worsen I want you to come get me."

They nod as one unit. "Yes, sir." And move away to tell the cooks of the Prison what the minor will be having for supper until further notice. He turns back towards the other end of the hall, hiking the fevered prisoner up into a better position for the both of them, and makes his way to the exit. Barbados sniffles against his neck, nuzzling closer, his fingers curling lightly into his collar. "Let's get you back in bed, Ados."

The younger angel nods silently, warm breath ghosting lightly over the side of his neck, and he takes the first step up to his quarters above. Pushing the cracked door open, he smiles slightly, those four guards are rather enamored with the little thief. Osmadiel has curled himself around Jahoel, both sleeping peacefully unaware of their audience, there's a spot big enough on the guards other side for him, and he leans over, setting the other young prisoner there. Barbados sighs sleepily, turning over onto his side, curling up against the guard on his other side. He stands back, watching with his hands resting on his hips, as Osmadiel wakes with a start, feeling the warmth of another little body curling around his, and lifts his head slightly to peer over his shoulder to see who the other little guest is. Barbados sniffles softly, nuzzling his cheek over the guards arm, and it brings him to adjust his position, to be a bit more accommodating to them both. Jahoel murmurs, curling around his right arm tightly, in a small little ball, his cheek pressed to the bare skin. The guard lifts his arm for the other little prisoner, Barbados sidles up close, pressing into his side, under his arm, and curling his fingers into the top of his tunic.

He frowns, something catches his eyes, something tinged red, amber, the sight of heated skin, and he leans forward, reaching for the guard, pressing the back of his fingers to his cheek. "Os, are you feeling alright?" He whispers into the din, he knows the younger angels are fast asleep, too deep to hear him, but the guard is not, he hears every word he speaks.

He shakes his head lightly, pressing into the cool fingers over his forehead, and sighs a near silent sigh of relief.

"You stay here with them for a bit, you're not going back to your post."

Osmadiel nods silently, resting back against the pillows on the Warden's bed, settling down for another nap.

Turning, he sighs, he'll have to check in on the others then, see how they fair, seeing as to how close they all were in proximity to each other. They're closer then the minors' block is, so he turns down that hall, deciding to check in on them first. Another frown mars his features as he gazes upon them. Sabaoth and Rahab seem to be in good health, but Sorath is red in the face, his cheeks blistered, leaning back against the oldest guard carefully. Sabaoth runs his fingers over his forehead, trying to offer him some semblance of comfort, and Thaddeus rubs at his chin lightly. "Sora, do you feel bad?"

The youngest of his guards looks up at him with fever bidden eyes and nods sluggishly, he feels bad, he just wants to be held and sleep.

He stops a guard wandering by. "Go fetch Titus." They nod, jogging off to do as they were told. He leans over to rub the young guards head. "I'm going to find someone to replace you for the next coming days." He raises his gaze to the guard holding him. "Take care of him, Saba."

"I will."

Smiling, he nods, turning in the other direction, back towards the minors block, to check in on the little spy. Rizoel is curled up on his side, when he finally makes it to his cell, half hidden under his blanket. He squats at his side, pulling the blanket back slightly, he chuckles airily as he brushes his fingers over the fever glistened skin.

Pox.

Little red spots color his skin.

The worst of all things to spread through his Prison.

"Oh, Rizo, you've got chickenpox."

The little spy mumbles, whining softly, uncurling from his ball as he reaches out for comfort. "Don' feel goo'."

Mentally thanking Father that he himself had suffered through this particular illness when he was young, Thaddeus opens his arms as the younger angel turns towards him and slowly comes to curl around him. "I imagine not, little spy." He hefts the younger angel up with him as he stands, legs curl around his waist and arms around his neck, a heated face presses to his neck. "Let's get you upstairs too, little guy." He'll take the infected ones up with him, and possibly help save off the others. Rizoel nods against his neck, he feels his hand slowly crawl over his shoulder towards the young angel's neck. Smiling, he kisses the young spy's cheek. "No scratching."

"Bu' itchy."

"I know it itches, little guy, I'll give you something for the itchiness."

"Mm'kay."

He's not alone this time when he steps into his room, his old guardian is there, slowly extracting Osmadiel from between the two young angels, lifting him up from the bed carefully, the guard curls an arm around the Captain's neck and rests against his shoulder.

Nisroc smiles at him. "Oh, chickenpox, no one's best friend."

Thaddeus huffs in amusement, hiking the little spy up higher against him. "At least you don't have _three."_

"Oh, I've had _much _more than three."

"I've had my fair share of them too."

The Power chuckles softly. "I'd say we're pretty evenly matched then."

The Warden smiles slightly, stepping passed the Power to set his cargo down on the bed, watching fondly as he curls up on his side, burrowing under the blankets. "Sora?"

"Tus took him, he'll break out in a few day's time."

"And, Saba?"

Nisroc nods lightly. "Saba has already had them, you helped me care for him, remember?" Thaddeus nods. "Is he going to be staying with Sora, is what I was asking."

"Aah, I see, yes, he will most likely end up staying with Sora."

The Warden nods, he'd expected as much, he smiles at the three boys on his bed, they'd curled up together like a pack of fledglings. "This is going to be fun."

"Isn't it always?"

…

"No, no scratching, bad," he smacks the little hand lightly. "Bad, bad spy."

Rizoel giggles softly, wheezing slightly as he does, and leans away from the Warden on the edge of the bed as he reaches back to scratch at his arm again. The Warden still sees, he leans over towards him, and smacks his hand again.

Beside him, Jahoel is a grumpy mound, hunched inwards and arms crossed, he glares down at the long mittens covering his hands. In all fairness, he had been warned, but he'd continued to scratch.

"Rizo, if I catch you scratching one more time you get the same end Jahoel did, do you understand me?"

"Bu' T'addy, i'ches!"

"I know it does, and you're next for the calamine lotion." He turns back to Barbados, rubbing the lotion over the patches of pox on his belly, nudging him around to get to his side and back. "Cool soda baths and calamine lotion will start to help with the itchiness." He finishes with the young angel he's working on, and pats him on the thigh lightly to send him back to his spot in the bed. Barbados thanks him softly, and he nods, as he darts off and climbs back under the blankets. He reaches over and pats the little spy on the belly. "Okay, spy, your turn."

Rizoel climbs out from under his spot of the blanket and crawls over the edge of the bed. "Okay, lift your shirt." He pulls his tunic up, or he should say, the borrowed tunic up, revealing his under garment and his toned, but slightly padded belly. He watches the Warden dab a bit of the lotion onto a clean rag and reach out smearing it over the first patch of pox, he watches as he moves from patch to patch, he reaches back slightly, fingers poised, and the Warden spots him despite his attempts for the other outcome. "That's it, mister." He pokes him in the belly and sets the bottle of lotion down against his leg, laying the rag over his knee, and reaches for a pair of mittens sitting next to him. "Give me those hands."

He grumbles, but does as he's told, pushing his left hand into the mitten held out for it, and then his right.

"These stay on until I say you can take them off."

Nodding, the younger angel lifts his tunic back up, and turns when the older angel spins his finger around. He finishes quick enough, and just as he had with the other, he pats him on the thigh lightly. "Okay, you, back in bed."

Bathed, covered in lotion, and laying in new sheets, they each cuddle down against their pillows as they watch their caretaker stand from the edge of the bed and cross over to set his bottle and rags, the last pair of mittens. Jahoel breaks his pouting stance as he watches his guardian move things around on his desk, curiousness taking over, smiling when he turns back to them, book in hand, and scoots over slightly as the older angel climbs up the bed from the bottom edge, and settles in between Barbados and Rizoel. Jahoel smiles, crawling under the blankets to climb up over him, feeling the comforting feeling of fingers threading through his curls, he can't stay upset when those fingers thread through his curls and begin scratching at his head, like a cat, he purrs, settling down for a cozy nap as he listens to him read the book's story over their heads.

The day has come to an end and he's all theirs.


	180. Reversing The Pout

"Tus, you're doing it again."

"No, no sir," the Power shakes his head, setting the book he had been reading aside, and jumped up from his bed. "I am not." He deposits the fledgling in his brother's arms and slides between him and the doorframe. "I am not doing it again."

He chuckles softly, bouncing the fledgling on his arm lightly. "Go get your boy!"

Titus makes his way down the stairs to the guard's rooms quickly, he passes Sabaoth in the hall as he makes his way down to his target, the oldest guard smiles at him in greeting as he turns into his room.

"Papa better not catch you pouting." He turns to stand in the young guards door way, the little thing is pouting, laying face down on his bed, completely limp. Toys are strewn about the room, a puzzle box dropped down in the center of the whirlwind. "Papa doesn't like pouting."

"m not pouting."

"Oh, yes you are. I can hear the pout in your voice."

"Cannot." The little angel turns away from him. "'Cause I'm not pouting."

"Papa hears a pout." He steps away from the doorway, entering the room, and makes his way to the bed in quick succession. "You know what papa does when he sees pouting."

Sorath turns to look at him, grunting softly when the older angel collapses overtop of him, squirming under his containment from above.

"Now where's that pout reversing button?" He shrieks as fingers wiggle up his sides in tandem. "Papa found it."

"Pahahahapapahahahaha! Tihihihihickles! Tihihihihickles!"

"Oh, it does, does it?" He runs his fingers upwards and manage to worm them under the younger angel's arms. "I don't hear that pout anymore."

""Pahahhahahappppaahahahha! Nohohot theheheheheere! Nohohohoot thehehehere!"

""Oh, papa found a good pout reversal button." He digs a finger into the hollows of the two armpits and the little guy squeals brightly, kicking his legs under him, trying to lower his arms, but finds himself thoroughly trapped under his papa's weight. "Let me poke it a few more times."

"Ahahahahhahahahaha! Pahahahahahahapppahaahahahhaa! I'm nohohohot pohohohouhuhuhuhuting ahahhahahahanymohohhohore!"

"No, I don't hear anymore pouts, but we have to make sure the pouts stay away, and there's only one way to do that."

Titus doesn't have to see the younger angel's eyes widen at the implications of that statement. "Nohoho! Pahahahahappahahahhaha nohohohot thahahahhat!"

"We have to, or the pout might come back." He leans himself to the side and takes a deep breath, burrowing in the young angel's side, he blows a vicious raspberry. Sorath squeals brightly, pounding his fists against his pillows, Titus chuckles, leaning over to the other side, burrowing in there, and delivering an equally powerful raspberry there. Sorath squeals again, kicking his legs and pressing his face into the pillow directly under him, and the Power laughs softly as he pulls away. "Are we pout free?"

""No more pouts! Hehehehehehehe! Nohohoho mohohohore!"

""That's good, papa tickles away the pouts." He lifts himself up enough for the younger angel to spin around, giggling up at him brightly, pout and upset completely forgotten. "There's my baby boy." He leans in, kissing him on the nose, smiling at the soft giggles it produces. "Quick, what's the first word that comes to your mind?"

"Tickles!"

He chuckles softly. "Alright, what's the second word that comes to your mind?"

""Cuddles!"

Shaking his head in amusement, Titus rests on his head on his palm, smiling down at the younger angel. "How about the third?"

"Puzzle!"

"There we go!" He pokes the little angel's nose. "Next time I start getting forgetful again, you say our magic word, 'Puzzle', and it'll remind me back to myself again."

"Okay, papa!"

The Power smiles down at his little angel. "Do you want to work on the puzzle first, or cuddles first?"

Sorath curls his arms around the older angel's neck. "Cuddles first, papa."

He curls his arms around the little angel's waist, rocking them over, so that he's laying on the bed and the little angel is resting over top of him. "Let's get some cuddles then.

The little guard rubs his cheek over the Power's chest, humming in content. "You got mad at me again, papa, and I didn't even do anything."

"I know I did, baby boy, and I'm so sorry. I'm all yours now, we can have as many cuddles as you want and then we can work on your new puzzle, and then we'll have to have supper, but after that we can play some, after that we'll have to go to bed I'm afraid."

"Aww, but papa, I don't have to be up early tomorrow."

"I know, but all little angel's need their sleep, or they get grumpy."

"And, you'll read me stories?"

"I'll read you stories, too."

"Will you stay the night, papa?"

He feels the older angel press a kiss to his temple. "Of course, I'll stay, my little angel."

Sorath smiles happily, nuzzling his cheek against his captain's chest again. "I love you, papa."

Fingers stroke through his wavy locks. "I love you too, my baby angel."


	181. Grumpy Mornings

"Is Os in a bad mood this morning?"

"Oh, shove off." The guard thrusts his hands out into the Warden's stomach, he's the first one there, or at least, he's made it there before Rahab has. Sabaoth and Sorath are sitting next to him, the younger of the two leaning back against the older, long strong arms encircling around him and resting his chin on the younger angel's shoulder, whispering down to him in turn, a soft conversation being had between them. "I didn't get my extra hour this morning and Tus says I'm not allowed to nap today."

"Oh, no, anything but that." The older angel teases gently, he knows not to push too hard, lest Osmadiel snap, though he knew for sure that he would think twice about snapping, Thaddeus didn't take kindly to that, from his prisoners or his guards. "How ever will you survive?" He turns to the older guard, feeling slightly guilty for interrupting the conversation he was having, smiling at the soft giggles that sounded from the youngest, whatever the oldest had said had been funny to him. "Saba, did Tus say why Os couldn't do his usual routine today?"

Sabaoth nods, looking away from the youngest guard leaning back against him. "Yes, he did, there is a new guard coming to shadow Os today, Rahab has been temporarily reassigned." They both stare at him, and he looks between them both in confusion. "What?"

"You mean, he told you, but he didn't think to tell us?"

Osmadiel seemingly has a different opinion on that matter. "_What!" _He throws his hands up. "I have a freshie coming to follow me! Are you kidding me! Is this why he was being so nice to me this morning!" He points an accusatory finger at the oldest guard next to him. "You _knew _and didn't say anything!"

He smirks slightly, he thinks he has an insane sense of humor. "It must have slipped my mind."

"Oh, you think you're so funny!" He raises a fist. "I'll slip something over you!"

The oldest guard smirks even still, reaching out, curling his fingers around the younger guards wrist, he yanks him over off his stool. Osmadiel yelps, tumbling forward, and Thaddeus laughs softly at his precarious position. "Well, we can't have someone shadowing you when you're in this mood, now can we?" He slips in behind the younger guard, positioning himself on his unoccupied stool, leaning forward for him, he grabs him by the shoulders and pulls him back, between his legs. Osmadiel grunts, yelping as he's tugged back, reaching up to brace his hands over the Warden's knees. "Let me be of help."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I think I'm good, don't you have, I don't know, Warden-y things to do?"

"Oh, my _'Warden-y' _things include caring for my precious guards, and you clearly need some of my care." He curls his legs around the guard, trapping him in place, and rests his hands on his shoulders. "Now, let's see what I can do about this grump here."

"Thadd, I'm warning you—"

"Warning me?" He runs his fingers through the guard's hair. "What are you warning me about?"

Osmadiel squeezes his fingers into the Warden's knees. "Don't you dare."

"Don't I dare, _what_?" He reaches back for the feather resting in the bun on the back of his head, twisting it between his fingers as he pulls it back around, "Are _you_ going to stop me?" He pushes the guards head to the side slightly, brushing the edge of the feather over the taught skin, Os jolts, biting his lip. "You've got me absolutely _shaking _in my boots."

"Thadd," he presses out stiffly, biting back his reactions to the feather rubbing over the side of his neck. "Stop."

"Not until I turn this grump into a happy little angel."

"I'm not a grump." A sharp _'eep' _escapes the guard when he turns the feather around in his fingers and scratches the quill lightly over the soft skin behind his ear. Osmadiel shakes his head, reaching up with his right hand to bat at him, but he doesn't quite reach him, his fingers brush over the back of his hand, but that's as far as he gets. "Thahahadd!"

"Oh, there we go, we're making a break through." He traces the quill of the feather down around his ear, he shivers, trying to scrunch his shoulder up. "Let's see how far we can go."

"Thahahadd! Stohohop!"

"Awww, you mean to tell me that I didn't torture the ticklishness out of these little ears when you were younger?" The guard giggles madly, trying to lean forward, away from his feather, he doesn't get very far, he's trapped between his crossed legs. "That's good information to know." He reaches back, sticking his feather back into his bun, and scratches a finger under both of his ears. Osmadiel squeaks, he actually _squeaks_, Sabaoth laughs softly at his predicament and Sorath giggles quietly, Thaddeus chuckles above him. "I can't _believe _I just made you _squeak_."

"Thahahahadd! Thahahahadd stohohhohohop!"

"Are you still grumpy?"

"Nohohoho!"

"Are you going to be nice to the new recruit?"

"Yehehehes!"

He curls his fingers around the side of his head, leaning down, he kisses the top of his head fondly. "Good boy."


	182. The Warden's Discipline

It started out as a normal day for him. Started out as usual, making a cup of coffee, Jahoel taking said cup of coffee, making another cup of coffee, going through the layout of the prisoners and their cellblocks, continuing on his plans to rearrange them all.

They had all been on their best behavior for him, not wanting to tempt fate, he'd been nice thus far, no one wanted to see what would happen when he finally cracked.

He knew things would come to a head eventually.

That new prisoner had been pushing the edge of the peace since he arrived.

He looks up as his office door opens, revealing the aforementioned prisoner and his guard escort, he sighs at the muzzle. "Why is he wearing that?"

"He bit Marmaroth."

He heaves another sigh. "He _bit _Marmaroth."

"He had to get four stitches."

He rubs at his forehead. _It's going to be a long day. _Instead of addressing the guard, he turns to the prisoner. "You like biting people, do you?"

The prisoner grunts behind his muzzle, and he heaves another sigh, gesturing to the guard. "Remove the muzzle."

"But, sir—"

"_Remove _it."

The guard nods stiffly, reaching back behind the prisoner for the latch on the muzzle, it clicks open, and he pulls the muzzle off the prisoner's mouth. He smacks his lips and smirks up at the guard, snapping at him quickly, the guard yelps jumping back. They both jump, prisoner and guard, when the Warden smacks his hand down on his desk, both turning to look back at him.

Thaddeus stares at the guard. "So, you _like _biting people?"

He shrugs, smirking slightly. "It's a living."

"I see, let me show you what I do to those who think they can bite _my _guards and get away with it." He pushes his chair back, rising to his feet, he waves the guards back and they gladly do so. "I'll take him from here, thank you."

They nod, not needing to be told twice, and turn away quickly, walking briskly down the hall. He shakes his head at them, none of his prisoners are that fearsome, you just had to show them who was in charge, that they were not the baddest thing in this place.

He points a finger at the prisoner in warning. "You try and bite _me _and find out what happens to you then."

"Is that a challenge?"

"I dare you to find out." He steps around him, snagging the minor by the collar, dragging him down the hall behind him. The young angel stumbles to keep up with him, his strides are long and fast, he towers over him, he silently curses himself for being so damn short. "You like biting things so much, I'll give you something to bite on."

His eyes widen at the implications of that statement, looking up at the entry way of the washroom as they enter through the arch, he's tugged around, to stand before the Warden. "Stand here." The older angel reaches for a new, wrapped bar of soap, he watches him unwrap it with wide eyes, taking a step back. A hand curls in the front of his tunic and tugs him back in place. "Open."

"MnMn." He shakes his head frantically, biting his lips closed, inching back a step. "You like biting, you can bite on this, open you mouth." "Mmnmm."

Thaddeus huffs, reaching up, and pries his mouth open. "Open, Calathiel." He shoves the bar of soap in and curls his hand around his mouth. "You spit it out, I'll keep it there _all _night."

Calathiel shakes his head, his eyes wide, mumbling around the bar of soap in his mouth. He doesn't want that; he doesn't want to have the bar of soap in his mouth all night. It's gross and tastes bad and he doesn't like it. The Warden nods firmly, pulling his hand back, reaching out to snag his ear instead. "Good, now that we understand each other, we can move on."

He sniffles softly, a far cry from the troublesome attitude that had been in display just minutes prior, and stumbles forward as the Warden leads him out of the washroom. He's led back to the Warden's office and pushed to sit in one of the chairs across from the Warden's seat. He watches as the older angel slides a blank page to him and reaches for a pencil. "I want you to write one hundred lines, _'I will not bite', _one hundred lines."

The younger angel nods lightly, looking up to him, meeting his stern eyes, and points to the bar of soap in his mouth.

"Oh, I know it's there, and there it will stay until you finish."

He whines softly, he likes to think he's tough, but he feels tears forming in his eyes.

The Warden points down to the page. "Go, the sooner you start, the sooner it comes out."

Calathiel nods, reaching up to wipe away a tear that escaped his eye, and bends over the page in front of him, scribbling out his first line. The Warden hums from over him, a warm hand presses between his shoulders, and he steps back around his desk, sitting back in his leather chair, and returns to what he had been doing before he had been interrupted.

He looks up at the sound of a soft sniffle, catching sight of a tear dripping down on the parchment under the young angel, and he sighs. He doesn't like being the bad guy in these situations. He leans forward, to see how far he's gotten, and sighs again, only half way there. He busies himself with readying a glass of water for when he finishes his lines, the soap is going to leave quite the aftertaste, but he'd learn, biting would only give him a mouthful of soap.

Looking back to his floor plans, he continues his planning, they were all in for a change in the next coming weeks.

The young angel breaths a soft cry, a whine mixed with a sob, and his writing shakes slightly, muffled around the bar of soap in his mouth, scribbling his last two lines, he sets his pencil down and slides the paper across the desk to his Warden.

Thaddeus looks up at it's sudden appearance, picking it up to examine, and nods, one hundred lines, writing sloppily, but done as he had ordered. He sets the parchment down and looks up at the tearful, pitiful little angel before him, Calathiel sniffs softly and rubs at his eyes.

"Do you like biting into that bar of soap?"

He shakes his head, a muffled cry escaping around the object in his mouth, and he reaches up to rub at his eyes.

"It's only been," the older angel looks down to his watch. "Five minutes." He looks back up to the young angel, pointing at him firmly. "You bite one of my guards again and I'll leave it in there for an _hour_, do you understand me?"

Calathiel nods miserably, and he takes that as the acknowledgement that they're on the same page, reaching forward to take hold of the bar of soap, pulling it from his mouth gently. The young angel gags, rubbing at his mouth, sticking his tongue out at the nasty taste in his mouth, and he shakes his head in a amusement, passing him the glass of water he had set aside. The Warden leans on his elbows, over his desk, as he watches the younger angel gulp down the water. Smiling slightly, he reaches into the second drawer of his desk for a hankie, holding it out for the younger angel, Calathiel looks up at it, and sniffles again. "Clean yourself up, little guy."

Taking the hankie, hesitantly, he rubs at his eyes and at his nose.

He leans back in his chair. "Go ahead, ask your question, I can see it in your eyes."

The younger angel looks down to the hankie in his hands. "Can I sit with you?"

Thaddeus smiles slightly, scooting back a pace. "Sure, you can, kiddo, come on over here."

The little prisoner jumps up off his seat, rushing behind the desk, and curls himself up in the Warden's lap. He looks down as arms circle around his waist, pulling him back further on his lap, he feels something fuzzy rub against his cheek. "Do you want another glass of water?"

He nods. "Yes."

"Yes, _what?"_

"Yes, please."

He feels the Warden nod, reaching around him for the glass, filling it with water from the jug, and sets it in front of the young prisoner. Calathiel takes the cup in hand, downing the glass of water quickly, and he sets it down when he's done, leaning back against the Warden. "Sorry I bit the guard."

"Are you going to do it again?"

Calathiel shakes his head. "No, sir."

"Good, angel."


	183. Finding What Was Lost

He found them on accident, while he was cleaning out the drawers of his desk, in the bottom right drawer was a box full of photos. He set the lid of the box aside, reaching in to pull one of the photos out, a little babe, bundled in a pale pink blanket. The baby, a girl, is in his arms, he's smiling, this baby is someone close to him. He flips the photo over, reading the writing on the back, the script is not his.

'_Daddy and daughter meeting for the first time.'_

He smiles as he flips the photo back over, rubbing a finger over the babe's face. That's right, he has a daughter. What's her name again? _Avagayle_, but she prefers another name, ever since she was a small wilily toddler, _Ava_.

Thaddeus smiles as he reaches in the box for another photo. He has a daughter, her name is Avagayle, but she prefers to go by Ava. He has a _daughter_. He chooses another photo, this one is a small child, a toddler, sitting behind a birthday cake with a pink number _'1' _in the center. She's turning one, it's her birthday, he sees himself behind her, leaning over her head, lighting the candle. At his side is a woman, the same colored hair as the little girl he leans over, that must be the mother, he cannot remember her name for the life of him.

"_Mary."_

The mother's name was Mary.

He pulls out another photo, another one of the birthday party, this one is the two of them. He's sitting next to her, his eyes squeezed closed, face scrunched up, as she pushes a piece of cake into his face. It makes him laugh softly at the sight of it.

In the lower left drawer he finds another box, humming in curiosity, he pulls the lid to that box open and sets it aside, reaching in, he curls his fingers around the edge of a piece of parchment. It's a doodle, a drawing, rather crude, but he can make out what it is. There's a tall figure, that's him, and he's holding what looks to be the hand of a smaller figure, he knows who that is too, he runs his fingers over the smaller figure.

"Sasha."

He folds the picture up carefully, tucking it into his pocket, he lifts both boxes up with him as he stands and sets them on his desk.

Walking out from behind his desk, he walks from the office, closing the door behind him, and makes his way down the hall towards the way out. "Saba your in charge while I'm away."

"Of course."

He smiles at the two guards posted at the entrance as he makes his leave, taking the steps down to the Axis quickly, he makes his way to the Pavilion and the Training Field. Nisroc had all the answers to his questions, he would surely know the answer to this one as well, the whereabouts to his little charge. He smiles in remembrance, he'd loved the little angel like Tus loved Sora, like he was a son, they fun they used to have together. They played together in the midst of all the cells, playing hide and seek, a game of tag, he used to ride around on his shoulders as he made his rounds, when he wasn't off playing with the guards, and _he _would play with his little toes because there was no where for him to go all the way up on his shoulders.

Sasha, he had the cutest giggles, the bubbliest laugh. He could soak it all up.

He searched over the heads of the trainees, trying to see if he could spy the familiar head over the seas of training warriors, nothing came into view, and he sighed sadly, what if he wasn't even a warrior, what if he became a messenger or a healer, maybe a choir angel. He may never be able to find him again, what if Nis didn't know where he was, what if he was just gone for good.

Thaddeus spies the one he's looking for, Nisroc stands out like a sore thumb, standing straight before a group of training young angels, his hands crossed behind his back, watching them all closely.

"Nis," he reaches out as he draws closer, tugging on the Power's sleeve lightly. "You have to help me."

The Captain turns at the sound of his voice, his eyes wide in surprise at his being there, clearly not having expected to see him this early in the morning. He curls the fingers of his right hand around the Warden's upper arm. "Yes, Thaddy, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

"Well, yes, actually, no, sort of. I was cleaning out my desk and found these boxes and they had photos and drawings in them, and I remembered," he tugs on his sleeve desperately. "Sasha, what happened to Sasha? Did Naomi get him too? Do you know if he's okay?"

Nisroc smiles down at him, squeezing his shoulder lightly. "I was wondering when you were going to ask about him. He saw your whip in my room and asked about you. I told him what happened." He turns, gesturing to one of the boys in the second row. "He's fine. I took him in after the War. He's got quite the mischievous side, which comes as a surprise, given his quiet personality."

Thaddeus smiles in remembrance. "It's always the quiet ones you have to look out for."

"Do you want to see him?"

He gets the jitters suddenly. "I don't know…..Does he want to see me…..Is he upset….What if he doesn't want to see me?" He twiddles his fingers. "Did…Did I hurt him?"

The Power shakes his head slightly. "No, you didn't, thankfully. I think he knows that Prison just a bit more then you do."

"It wouldn't be surprising, he was always the best at hide and seek, I always ended up giving up."

"He's been wanting to see you," Nisroc turns back to the boy in question. "He just wasn't sure how to approach you. But we can change that," he turns back to his training class and raises his hand, they all come to a panting halt, turning to wait for his command. "Take five, Sasha, I need you."

The young man in question tilts his head in question, he hasn't been spotted yet, and he smiles as he watches the young trainee swipe a sweat drenched curl from his eyes, he's always let his curls hang wild. He comes around from behind the remaining members of the crowd, rubbing his curls back, and he feels a smile forming over his features at the sight of him.

His eyes widen as he finally spots him, and his advance comes to a grinding halt, as he stares at the Warden with a slacked jaw.

Thaddeus tries for a kind smile, it shakes a bit, but he manages. "Hey, Sasha." He waves a few fingers at him.

"Thaddy?" He sticks his sword into the ground and creeps closer. "Is it really you?" He reaches out tentatively, poking him in the chest, waiting tensely for a response. He doesn't swat his hand away, he doesn't snarl, he snorts softly, and nods. "You're really….Really you again?"

"I'm back, little guy." The Warden opens his arms slightly, nodding firmly. "I'm sorry, I didn't know I'd left, but I'm back, I'm not going anywhere. I found, I found this," he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the folded parchment, and unfolds it, holding it out. "I found this and it made me think of you." Sasha takes the creased drawing, smiling down at it as he gazes upon it, running a finger over the figures on the page. "I used to hang them up on the walls of my office, I don't know how they got taken down, but I must have remembered that they meant a lot to me, because they were in my desk."

"Thaddy!" The young angel throws himself forward, clutching the picture in one hand, as he throws his arms around his neck. "I missed you so much!" Thaddeus huffs softly, laughing airily as he curls his arms around the boy in turn, firmly, lifting him off his feet in their massive hug. Sasha laughs softly, pressing himself closer, staring up at him when he's set on his feet, the Warden caresses his cheeks, before reaching down and curling his arms around his waist. "Look at how big you've gotten!" He pulls him closer, and Sasha smiles at him, curling his arms around the older angel's chest. "You'll always be my little bug though, no matter how big you get."

"I missed you so much!" He presses his ear against the Warden's chest, listening to his heartbeat thump thump thump under his ear. "I _knew _something was wrong! I knew it! You didn't want to play anymore, and you were always yelling, I _knew_ that wasn't you!"

"I'm back again, I'm not leaving, I'm here to stay." He cradles the back of his head, threading his fingers through his curls, pressing him closer to his chest, firmer. "I've missed so much of your life, I've missed you growing up, I've missed you choosing your flock, I've missed all your milestones."

"You can still be there to see me graduate."

"Of course, I'll be there." He presses his lips to the top of the young man's head. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." He pets his curls back. "I'm not going to miss anything ever again."

Sasha smiles against his chest, turning around, to look at the Power next to them.

Nisroc rolls his eyes, but he's smiling, and waves them away. "Go on, then, you can have the day. Lord knows, you'd just sneak away anyway." He waves them away as the others slowly trickle back. "Go, shoo, shoo, off with you."


	184. You Have Heart

"What are you doing all the way over here?"

She looks up at the sound of his voice, meeting his eyes for a brief moment, before returning to her twiddling fingers resting in her lap. She shrugs softly, shaking her head lightly, she doesn't really want to talk about it.

"Hey," he settles a hand over the top of her head, tilting it back gently, their eyes meeting again. "What's wrong?"

She bites her lip and shakes her head again, he sighs deeply, his patience is everlasting, and sits next to her on the bench. "Rio, what happened?"

"They found out, Akriel." He nods, patiently, waiting for her to finish her thought. "They keep calling me _'Mindbreaker Junior'_. I'm not like her," she looks up at him with wide eyes. "Am I?"

"No, you are nothing like her," he raises his arm for her, and she slides into his side, wrapping her arms around his chest, he lowers his arm around her, pulling her close against him. "You've got a heart, where she just has darkness, you are nothing like her. Nothing. You're an amazing angel. A wonderful healer. She was none of those things."

Orion smiles, her face burning red, and presses her face into the side of his neck. "Thanks, Ak." She pulls away slightly to lean up, kissing his cheek lightly. "You're the best."

The mental specialist smiles, kissing the top of her head fondly, rubbing her arm soothingly. "It's quite alright, I speak nothing but the truth, sometimes the truth needs to be shared openly." She smiles up at him. "And, that being said, this won't be tolerated, who started this name calling?"

She bites her lip and stares at him. "Orion."

"It was Ansiel." She feels bad for rating her out so easily, and she looks back down to her lap, hiding in his neck again. "Please don't say anything, Ak, please!"

He rubs her arm soothingly. "You know I have to, Rio, this type of behavior is not becoming of a healer."

"But, it didn't bother me, Ak, it was okay, it's nothing!"

"Rio," he turns her around to look at him. "You were on the verge of tears. You've been _ostracized_. That's not _'nothing'_."

"But," she looks him in the eyes with wide frightened eyes. "She'll know I was the one who told on her. Everyone listens to her, they'll all hate me, please don't say anything, Ak! Please!"

"I don't know." He rubs at his beard lightly. "You're putting me into quite the position here, Rio. It is against my better judgement to keep this to myself. We don't tolerate this kind of behavior here, as healers were are here to heal, not hinder. And bullying most certainly does not heal."

"Oh, please, Ak, please, I'll never ask for anything ever again!"

"Now, why don't I believe that?"

"Please, Ak," she tugs on the front of his tunic. "Please! I'm begging you!"

He heaves a sigh, nodding his head. "Alright, I won't say anything," he points a finger at her firmly. "So long as it doesn't escalate into something worse."

"It's won't! I swear it won't!"

"Okay, I'll take your word for it." Akriel rubs her arm again, pulling her close to press a kiss to her forehead. "But I'll be watching."

…

It's the first time he spots a bruise under her eye that he puts his foot down, he pulls her aside the first chance he can, his expression set in a tense frown as he turns her head around to examine the bruising painting her cheek bone. She twiddles her fingers, reaching up to grab his wrist, trying to dissuade the anger burning in his eyes, she knows most of it is towards those that thought to cause her harm, and then there's a bit in there for her too, for keeping him from doing what he was supposed to do before it turned into this.

"Who?" His tone is firm, brokering no room for argument, it's a question she knows she had better answer, if she knows what's good for her. "Orion, I want a name."

"Umm…..I didn't see…"

He turns her head around, so that her eyes meet his, and she bites her lip at the heat glowing in them. "Orion, I am not in the mood."

The little healer averts her eyes. "Diniel."

"Enough is enough, Orion." He curls the fingers of his right hand around the back of her neck and guides her around. "I never should have let you talk me into this silence. It's been eating at me ever since we made that arrangement. No more of this."

She nods, biting her lip, raising her hand to poke at her throbbing cheek. Her goose has been cooked. There was no keeping it a secret now. He leads her to the Healer's office, any and all cases of bullying must be brought to his attention, Akriel grabs his brother's sleeve as they pass him, Oren stumbles around as he's tugged forward, shuffling as he nearly drops the papers he's carrying.

They come to stand before the Healer's office door, Oren spares her a glance, his eyebrows meeting at the sight of her bruised cheek, and then turns up to glance at her guardian. Akriel shakes his head firmly, he's only telling this story once, and he knocks on the door to the Healer's office stiffly. He waits for him to grant them entrance, and when he does, he pushes the door open. Raphael looks up from the journal he's writing in at the tense entrance, Oren's confused shrug, and Orion's bruised cheek.

"What's happened here?" He waves the young healer forward, she crosses to stand at his side, and he tilts her head slightly in the opposite direction to examine the slight split over her cheek bone. "That's quiet a bruise you've got there."

"Nothing." She bites her lip and averts her eyes.

The Archangel hums softly, nodding towards one of the chairs across from him, she sighs softly and nods, crossing out from behind his desk to sit in the chair across from him.

He spares her a long glance before returning his gaze to the Virtue behind her. "I see, Akriel, please elaborate for me, seeing as you're charge has seemingly lost her ability to speak words."

"Gladly," he curls the fingers of his right hand over her shoulder, and it makes her feel small, she huddles in on herself. "I should have said something earlier. Bullying. Someone managed to find out her connections to Naomi and they've been bullying her."

"I see," Raphael looks back down to her. "Why wasn't I made aware of this?"

Orion bites her lip. "I made Ak promise not to tell."

"Mmhmmm, who are these bullies?"

She looks down to her fingers, picking at her sleeve. "Ansiel and Diniel…They're the worst…The others just won't talk to me."

"I see," he turns to the older Virtue. "Oren, would you do me the favor of gathering young Ansiel and Diniel for me?"

The Virtue's Captain nods, turning on his heel, to gather up the two that were desired by his Archangel. They wait in silence for him to return, the Healer watching the young angel, Akriel standing tensely behind her, his mental specialist is not happy, not one bit. Orion refuses to meet his eyes, refuses to look up at the angel behind her, she sits there staring down at her fingers instead.

It doesn't take him long to return, with his passengers in tow, Ansiel and Diniel exchange glances as they take in the sight of their target and the Healer tapping his fingers over his desktop.

Akriel huffs stiffly as they come to stand next to him, curling more so around his charge in the chair, Ansiel and Diniel stare at the Healer from across his desk, tensing slightly as he hums and leans back in his chair.

"What's this I hear about you two bullying one of my healers?"

Ansiel rubs at the back of her neck lightly and Diniel rubs his arm softly. "We…We weren't _bullying_ her."

"Then, tell me Diniel," he gestures to the little healer sitting across from him. "How did she come by such a bruise."

The young healer in the spotlight looks down to his feet, biting his lip softly, and elbows his partner. Ansiel shakes her head, biting her own lip, and curls her fingers in the front of her tunic.

"I see, cat got your tongues, has it?" He leans over his desk, resting on his elbows. "Ansiel, this is not the first time I have you in here for bullying another one of your peers. Did you not learn from your last experience, tell me, has Araton finished her journal yet?"

The young lady bites her lip again. "She just finished."

"She has? That's great news. Tell me, how much did you enjoy your house arrest?"

Ansiel tugs at her tunic lightly. "I didn't enjoy it."

"Good, I hadn't wanted it to be a pleasurable experience." He folds his fingers together. "You're both confined to your rooms until her cheek heals. You can come out to complete your chores and duties, and then when completed, you return once more."

"What?" Ansiel jumps forward. "No! I just got off! Not again!"

"Perhaps," he leans forward over his desk. "You should have thought about that before this all began." He nods towards the door. "Go, the both of you." He turns his attention to the one across from him. "As for you, young lady, next time, should there be a next time, you tell someone immediately. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." She nods meekly. "I understand."

"Good," he tilts his head to catch her gaze, and smiles once he has it. "Now, go get yourself tended to."


	185. Knocking Down A Few Pegs

It was a well thought out plan, in their honest opinion, the planning they had put into it was one for the books. Jahoel had taken a look at the floor plans Thaddeus had made up when he was out for the day running errands, taking not of the placements, and made a quick adjustment to put their plan into action, blotting out one name and replacing it with another, and passed the pertinent information off to his partner.

He took advantage of his overseeing the rearrangement, on the assigned day, and picked the lock to his office with his hair pin. Peering over his shoulder, just to double check his safety, he crept into the empty office, they were getting a new guard soon, Thadd had just made a new set of keys. Jahoel knew, from proper research (read: snooping) that he kept the new keys in the middle drawer of his desk, he crept over the threshold of the office and stepped around the desk, pulling the middle drawer out, he smiled as he spotted the keys. Curling his fingers through the key ring, he lifted them up, holding them up before him.

Step one was a success.

Now on to step two.

They were moving the two high profile prisoners first, then Charlie Block, they were all being transferred to Alpha Block.

Sliding the drawer shut, he crept out of the office, closing and locking the door behind him. Taking the halls expertly, he knew them well, he came to the hustle of the change, the four guards escorting their prisoners to their new cells, the other guards herding the other prisoners.

He runs into one of them, stumbling forward, tripping over his feet. An innocent action. Nothing to be concerned with, he steadied himself, brushing his front down, the other apologized, saying he wasn't watching where he was going, and the keys exchanged hands.

Jahoel shrugs, coming to stand at the Warden's side, he sets his hand over his curls and turns his head around. "You okay, little guy?"

"I'm fine, you know me, always tripping over myself."

The older angel shakes his head in amusement. "I sure do."

…

He waits until the coast is clear, Jahoel said the guards always excused themselves at half passed six for supper, and he waited for his new neighbor to be left on his own, eating his own supper hotly, he still thought he was better then all of them, even locked behind these bars. He was one to talk, himself, but in the end, he would leave and the other would stay. Just as their soft conversation fell out of earshot, he reached under his mattress of the ring of keys his supplier had gifted him, and crept to the gate of his cell, peering first to the left, and then to the right, he nods to himself, it was his turn to complete his half of the mission. Reaching between the bars of his cell, he selects the skeleton key for the cell locks and sticks it in the key hole. The tumblers click and turn, the lock undoing itself, and he looks down to the right, then to the left, once more before he pushes his cell door open.

His target looks up from his supper as he sticks the key into the lock, he opens his mouth to say something when he throws the cell door open, and jumps in, cutting the Scribe off before he can even utter a sound. His fist sinking into smooth skin, the cracking of cartilage under his knuckles, brings him joy, immense pleasurable joy. Red, warm liquid drips from his knuckles when the call of alarm is made, someone yells from behind him, it echoes down the hall, heavy boots thump over the stone floor, coming closer and closer, and arms curls around his waist, pulling him up off the moaning angel he straddles. Someone else calls out, making their way down the hall, but he only has eyes for his masterpiece. That should shut him up, show him his place, knock him down a few pegs.

He's thrown around, his world spins as he is, away from the cell. Fingers snatch the keys out of his hand quickly, up and away from him, voice hover over his head.

"Saba, what happened?"

Someone blocks his view of his hard work.

"Os, go get a medic to look him over."

"What are you doing with that one?" Osmadiel gestures to him and he makes a face at being addressed as _'that one'_.

Sabaoth curls the fingers of his free hand around his upper arm firmly. "An attack on one of the prisoners, whether it be by guard or prisoner, must be brought to the Warden."

"Oof." The younger guard nods, looking in on the moaning scribe again. "I'll go get a medic."

He stumbles as he's yanked forward, they hadn't thought too far on the repercussions of their plan, they hadn't planned on being caught, Jahoel had never made mention of any of the four guards returning when they left for their supper. "You'd better hope he's in a good mood today." Well, if that's not ominous, he doesn't know what is.

They find the Warden overseeing the move into Charlie Block, Thaddeus turns at the sound of their approach, his arms crossed loosely, and raises an eyebrow at their appearance. "Saba, why are you dragging by the arm Rizo like that?"

Sabaoth thrusts him forward. "He attacked Metatron."

"He attack…._How_?" The Warden looks between them both with raised eyebrows. "They were both locked in their cells."

"Oh, he got out quite easy with these." The guard holds up the keys he had confiscated just moments prior. "I don't know how he got them, but there is a single name that comes to mind for suspects."

Thaddeus takes the keys, his expression darkening as he looks down at them, curling his fingers around the keys tightly, his jaw sets as he looks back up at them. "Go find him." Rizoel stumbles forward when the Warden snags him by the front of his collar, his eyes widening as he's pulled up to stand chest to chest with him, there's a light glinting in his eyes, something that he's only heard rumors about, this is when he snaps, this is when he's going to clobber him. "We'll wait for you in my office."

He feels his breath catch as the Warden nods to the head guard for the cell block and turns, dragging him down the hall by the collar, he stumbles over his feet, regret sinking in where pleasure had once been, as they draw closer to the Warden's office. He stops them just before the door, and the younger angel finds himself confused, he was sure they would turn to the right for the torture room, that's what was going to happen now, he was going to live up to how the rumors portrayed him to be, this was it, this was when it happened.

His chest tightens minute by minute as the Warden reaches for the keys hooked to his belt, selecting the key to his office, he turns it in the lock, the tumblers click, and he pushes the door open.

Rizoel coughs slightly, his chest feels like it's concaving in, as they step (read: as he's dragged) into the office, and the Warden turns to look down at him with raised eyebrows. "Hey," he turns to face him. "Hey, it's okay." He curls his fingers around the younger angel's cheek. "Take a deep breath." He nods, huffing slightly, and inhales deeply, holding it until he's told to let it go, and when he does, after a long minute, his chest feels as though it's lightening up again. "There you go, it's okay, you may be here for discipline, but I'm not going to _hurt _you."

"Y—You're not?"

He shakes his head, offering a comforting smile. "No, I'm not. What happened here before will never happen again. I'm going to discipline you, yes, but I'm not going to do _that_." He guides him forward gently. "Come on, take a seat, we're waiting for your partner in crime to arrive."

The younger angel huddles in his chair, trying to appear as small as possible, and twiddles his fingers slightly. "H—How do you know I didn't work alone?"

"Because, there's only one way you got these keys, and there's only one person who's ballsy enough to take them from my desk."

He nods silently, looking down to his lap, fiddling with his fingers again. They wait in silence, him huddled in his chair, and the Warden leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, rubbing the fingers of his right hand over his beard, and then the door opens. Someone yelps as they're dragged in and forcibly pushed down into the other seat, Sabaoth lets go of his collar and nods, looking back up to his boss. Thaddeus nods and he makes his leave, going back to his supper, he was sure it wouldn't be the last time he saw that little thief that night.

Thaddeus turns his attention to the other boy. "I'm glad you could join us, Jahoel."

He huffs, crossing his arms hotly. "I was in the middle of something."

"I'd be careful with that attitude if I were you." He taps his lips lightly. "I should warn you, the ice you're walking on is beginning to crack." He uncrosses his arms, reaching for the confiscated keys, holding them up for him to see. "Mind telling me how _these _wound up in his possession?"

Jahoel stares at the keys for a moment, before shrugging lightly, trying to appear nonchalant. "How should I know, he probably got them on his own." Rizoel turns to look at him with wide eyes, but he wasn't fazed, it was every man for himself at this point. Thaddeus hummed, he was sure he did, and turned to the other boy. "Rizoel, where'd you get the keys?"

The spy crosses his arms, if he was going to stick up for _him_, then _he _wasn't going to stick up for him. "Jahoel gave them to me when he ran into me this morning." It was Jahoel's turn to look over at him with wide eyes, and he stared straight ahead, there was no love loss. Every man for themselves.

"One strike, Jahoel." The Warden holds up one finger to the other boy. "How did you know when to strike, Rizoel?"

"Jahoel told me when the guards would be taking their supper break."

"And that's two." Thaddeus turns back to the little spy. "Who planned this entire plot?"

"Jahoel came up with the idea."

"And, that's three." The older angel stands from his desk chair, gesturing for them to follow. "Move your chairs aside. Stand behind them."

They nod obediently, doing as they were told, and he watches them, his arms crossed, tapping at his lips again. "Jahoel, what did I say would happen if you took my keys again?"

The boy looks up at him. "That you would…No…..Thadd no….."

"Oh, that's not even the whole deal." Jahoel's eyes widen when his hands reach down for his belt, undoing the latch, and he backs up a step. "No….Thadd…Not that…"

"Since you're the mastermind behind this whole thing," he gestures to his kid. "You can go first, Jahoel."

"No, that's not fair…..Not that, Thadd….He deserved it!"

"Be that as it may, I don't tolerate violence in my Prison, step forward, bare yourself, and over the desk."

He shakes his head frantically. "No!" Jahoel takes another step back. "I'm not going to!"

"Oh, yes, you are." Rizoel takes a step back as the Warden surges forward, crossing to the other boys side in two long strides, and it's all kind of a blur after that. He blinks and Jahoel's held over the edge of the Warden's desk, the older angel's hand pressing between his shoulders, his trousers tugged down slightly, and his jumping, howling with every lash of the belt. He winces, none of the throws are being pulled, and curls into himself as the other boy's cries fall upon him, turning away from the scene unfolding before him.

They've made him angry, Thaddeus is furious with them, and he's showing them just how much they've infuriated him rather physically.

It seems to go on for an eternity, in his opinion, Jahoel's howls and yells morphing into gut wrenching sobs. He peeks up when the thwapping stops, watching the Warden tug his friends trousers back up, turning him around. He can't see the older angel's face, his expression, but he can tell what sort of expression might be, when he reaches up to curl his fingers around his face, he leans closer, whispering something, and Jahoel breaths a sob, nodding frantically to whatever it was he had said. Then the Warden straightens, and the other boy surges forward, curling around the older angel tightly, sobbing into his chest deeply.

He curls around him, rubbing at his back soothingly, threading his fingers through his curls. He whispers down to him again, and Jahoel shakes his head again, looking back up to him with red puffy eyes, he whispers again, and Jahoel deflates, nodding miserably, hugging himself close one last time before uncurling from around him.

The other boy mutters a soft apology to him as he departs, opening the door, and closing it behind him just as silently.

Thaddeus turns to him next, holding a hand out to him. "Come here, Rizoel."

The spy shakes his head. "No."

He sighs deeply. "Rizoel, as I'm sure you just saw, it's going to happen no matter how much you struggle against it. So, make it easier on yourself." He flexes the fingers of his outstretched hand. "You can hold my hand."

Rizoel nods slightly, reaching forward hesitantly, curling his fingers around the Warden's palm. Long, warm fingers curl around his, and he gently guides him forward, pulling him to stand before him, in front of the desk.

"Now, tug them down, bare yourself." He nods slightly, reaching down to tug his trousers down slightly. The fingers squeeze his hand lightly. "Good boy, now over the desk." Rizoel nods again, looking down to his hand, and those fingers squeeze his hand again. "You can hold onto my hand." He nods again, turning to face the desk, pulling the hand along with him, it makes for an awkward position, but it wouldn't be the first time he's disciplined someone in this position.

He gets no more then Jahoel did, from him at least, and when he's done, he's sobbing just as hard as the other boy had been. Sighing, Thaddeus leans over, setting his belt on the desk, and guides the little angel around with his clasped on hand, and curls around the little angel as he cries his little heart out.

"Ssshhhh, it's okay, we're done." He runs his fingers through his soft hair comfortingly. "Everything's all forgiven. You're okay. I've got you." He guides the younger angel around, they shuffle around his desk, and he sits back in his chair, pulling the little angel down into his lap. Rizoel sniffles miserably and buries his face into his neck, breathing out another cry, and he sighs, rubbing at the side of his head softly, curling him in his arms. "Let it out, little guy, let it out."

…

Jahoel sniffles, rubbing at his sore bottom, as he turns the numerous corners to their new cell block. He didn't want to have to tell him that he had used his trust the way he had, sharing the information he was given for nefarious purposes, but Thaddeus had told him to. That he deserved to know. So here he was, walking towards his doom, following the sound of his voice, he's having a conversation with someone, it sounds like Osy.

He turns the final corner and slows his pace, dragging his feet, Sabaoth's back is to him, but Os can see him approaching. He nods at him, giving Saba an indication that someone was approaching from behind, and he turns to peer over his shoulder to see who it could be.

"Jahoel."

He turns back around, he knew there was only one way for Rizoel to know when they wouldn't be there to stop his attack, there was only one prisoner (ex-prisoner) who knew their schedule. He knows how Rizoel knew, and he knows who told him, there's nothing to be said.

"Hi, Saba." The young angel pauses behind him, looking down when nothing is said in return, the other angel pointedly looking away from him. "I'm sorry, Saba."

"_What_ever for?"

He looks down to his feet silently for a moment. "I was the one who told him your guys schedule."

"I see." Sabaoth nods, running his fingers through Sorath's hair, still not turning, not looking back at him. He doesn't want to lose Sabaoth, he'd been his first friend, the first one that had talked to him when he came here all the way back at the start of his first sentence. "What do you want?"

"We…We're still friends, right?"

"I don't know, Jahoel, are we?" He leans back slightly, pushing Sorath away lightly, and the younger guard sits up. He finally turns to look at him, turning on his stool, leaning forward on his elbows. "Friends are supposed to trust each other, right?" He tilts his head slightly. "Can I _trust _you, Jahoel?"

"Yes!" He jumps forward slightly, the sting in his bottom, the thought of losing his first and best friend out ways any sting there might be. "Yes, you can! I'm sorry, Saba! I don't want to lose you! You're my best friend! I'm sorry!"

"Oh, Saba, he's sorry!" Rahab curls her hands under her chin, watching the two of them with wide sad eyes. "Everyone makes mistakes!"

"Yea, Saba, don't lead the kid on." Osmadiel pipes up from her side, watching them with crossed arms, leaning back against his new corner. "You're going to give him a heart attack. Just do what you have to do and give that kid some love."

Heaving a sigh, he shakes his head at them, it was all about finesse. Looking back up to the younger angel, he holds his hands out to him, Jahoel rubs at his eyes, looking between his hands. "Come on, Jahoel."

"W—What?" He backs up a slight step. "B—But Thaddy al—already—"

"And, if you want me to still be your friend, you'll come over here so we can get it over with."

Jahoel inhales sharply, nodding quickly, he still wants to be friends, he doesn't want to lose Saba, he has very few people he can rely on, and Saba was just as far up there as Thaddy was. He steps forward, into the guard's grasp, and lets him guide him down into the position he wants him to be in. Thaddy does it in private, but not Saba, Saba will take you down over his knee wherever he is, it doesn't matter to him who sees it. Because of his burning from Thaddy, it only takes a few swats to break him down, but Saba doesn't stop until he thinks he's gotten the lesson across.

Then he's clingy, he wants to be held, he wants to be comforted, and his best of friends rights him around and curls him in his arms, leaning back against the corner behind him. Sabaoth rubs his fingers through the younger's curls, scratching at his head like he knows the youth likes, and Jahoel burrows into the side of his neck desperately, clinging to him tightly, and squeaks something out between his cries.

"Yes, little one, we're still friends." He scratches at his head lightly, looking for that right spot, he knows its there somewhere. "We're always going to be friends." There it is.

Jahoel's breathing evens out, his cries coming to a silence, and he rubs his nose against the guard's neck. A soft purr starts up, his fingers kneading into his chest lightly, like a content kitten.

"Did you really just put him to sleep?"

"Shut up, Os, you'll wake him up."

…

He makes his way up the stairs to the Warden's quarters slowly, rubbing at his eyes lightly, it wasn't fair, Saba had played him. He slinks into the Warden's room and shuffles across the threshold, crawling up onto the bed, he crawls up between two legs and collapses over top of the belly, it rumbles with a soft chuckle and fingers brush through his curls.

"Hey, you, I was wondering when you'd show up."

The young _'reformed' _thief mumbles softly, rubbing his cheek against the Warden's belly, and closes his eyes. "Been a long day."

Thaddeus chuckles softly, scratching at his head, returning to the page he'd been reading in his book. "Has it been?"

"Saba made me fall asleep."

"Did he?" He finds that one magic spot. "Am I making you fall asleep?"

Jahoel hums sleepily, nodding slightly, nuzzling closer. "Mhmm."

"Good, good, sweet dreams."


	186. Tus's Big Brother

He looks up from the journal he's writing in at the soft knock on his door. "Come in." The door opens slowly, as though the person on the other side is struggling, and he sits up from his hunched over position at his desk.

A familiar face appears there. "Puri, I need your help."

He scoots his chair back at witnessing him standing there, clutching his shoulder, in clear discomfort. "Oh, Tus, did it lock up again?"

The younger Power bites his lip and nods, grimacing in pain, and the medic stands quickly, crossing out from behind his desk to assist him. He curls a gentle hand around his arms and guides him forward, kicking his door closed behind him, guiding him forward to sit on the edge of his bed. "I'll make it all better, little guy."

"Puri, it hurts."

"I know it does, I'll fix it up good as new, sit here, that's it."

Titus sits on the edge of his bed, curling slightly in pain, and he presses his palm to his left cheek for a moment before turning to gather what he knows he needs. He pours a bit of water into an empty bowl and sets a stack of cloth bandage wraps to soak, lights a small flame under it, to warm the water. He gathers a small vial and a syringe, turning back to the younger Power, he sets them on his bedside table.

"Okay, we have to get some range back so we can take off your shirt." He curls his left hand over his shoulder and the fingers of his right hand under his upper arm. "Ready?"

The younger angel grits his teeth, curling the fingers of his other hand in his older brothers blankets. "Ready."

"Okay, just slow, gentle movements." He starts by slowly lifting his arm up, straightening it out at the shoulder, Titus bites his lip and squeezes the blanket tighter. "Easy does it." He rotates the shoulder joint slowly, enough that he can feel the pressure but not so much that it increases the pain, and slowly it gives, allowing for the range of motion he needs. "Okay, start slipping out of your tunic." Titus nods, slowly pulling his tunic up with his good arm and free hand, he ducks down to slip it over his head, and his older brother takes it from him, slipping it off his bad shoulder and tossing it to lay on his desk beside them.

He watches his older brother reach for the syringe and vial and inhales sharply. Puriel smiles slightly, sticking the needle through the top of the vial, and taps the side of the syringe lightly. "I know you don't like them, but I'll be quick, it's a muscle relaxer, it'll help everything feel better again."

"Puri, I don't know…"

"Here," he holds a hand out to him. "Hold my hand." Titus bites his lip, but he reaches out anyway, grabbing onto his older brother's hand, Puriel curls his fingers around his and squeezes gently. "Now, squeeze." He does as he's told, and clenches his eyes shut so he doesn't see when it happens, he feels it though, a slight pinch, and then there's relief. "Good job, Tus, very good. You did great."

"It's done?" He peeks up at him. "You did it?"

"All done, now I'm just going to wrap it up in some damp warm bandages."

"Thanks, Puri."

His older brother smiles down at him, rubbing his cheek with a finger. "Always, baby brother."

…

He wakes with a start, chest heaving for a breath, sweat dropping down his forehead.

It wasn't real. It was all just a dream. A no good, very bad, horrifying dream.

Sitting up, he feels about himself, he's all in one piece, his hands aren't coming away warm with blood, everything has long since healed, he's whole, nothings broken. He sets his hands down in his lap, and looks down, when they press to something wet. Frowning he moves slightly, pressing his fingers into it, and then he sighs miserably, of course it would be one of those nights. So, he just sits there, in his soiled pants, over his wet sheets, and buries his face in his hands.

"Bad dream?" He peers up over his fingers, meeting those familiar eyes, they never shine with amusement at his predicament, not that any of the others do, but these ones always make things better. He nods slightly. "Did you have an accident?" He nods again.

A kind smile is offered to him, a comforting one, and he holds out a hand. "Come on, baby boy, lets go get you cleaned up."

Smiling slightly, he climbs out of his bed, reaching out to take the outstretched hand. Long warm fingers curl around his, and he guides him from his room, across the hall, to his own room. He walks with him over to his wardrobe, where he pulls out a clean tunic and a clean pair of trousers, a clean pair of undergarments. They're all a bit big on him, but there's nothing more comforting then wearing big brother's clothes, and big brother knows that. "Here, you are, little guy, you get changed and climb in bed, I'm going to go strip your bed while you change, I'll be right back."

"Puri…" He tugs on his brother's hand softly, and he smiles, the fingers of his free hand curling around his left cheek. "I'll be back before you finish changing, I promise." Nodding tentatively, Tus lets go of his hand, watching him turn out of the room. Sighing softly, he turns to the clothes set out for him, and begins stripping from his soiled clothes and into his older brother's clean clothes. He falls still, back facing the door, and reaches up to run his fingers over the defined raised scars wrapped around his neck.

"Hey, it's okay," fingers curl over his shoulders, squeezing lightly. "It's in the past, stay with me here, now, we're together. You and me."

"Puri, I was there again."

"I know, baby brother." Puriel gently turns him around, curling the younger Power up in his arms, pulling him in close. "I know. But it was just a dream. Just a bad dream. You're home, you're safe, I've got you with me, right here. Nis is down the hall. Abe is next door. We're all right here."

Titus nuzzles closer, clutching at his older brother's tunic tightly. "Can I sleep with you, Puri?"

"Of course, you can, baby brother."

…

"Well, look at this, look at what I caught." Titus grunts softly as his back hits the mattress, staring up at his looming older brother, as he draws closer and closer, crawling up over his legs until he's settled over top of him. It's been some time since he last found himself at his older brother's questionable mercy. "I caught an elusive Tus, it's a rare species, only one in existence." He leans up, positioning himself just right. "It makes the most beautiful of sounds." And buries his face into the younger Power's neck.

Titus shrieks brightly, his hands flying up to his brothers chest, fingers curling in his tunic tightly. "Nohohohohshhshshshshshhssss!"

"Just listen to it, isn't it wonderful?"

"Aahahahahahaha! Puhuhuhuurihhihihihi! Stohohhohhohohop!"

"Stop?" He presses a light kiss to one of the rune scars. "I'm just getting started."


	187. Consequences Of Escape Attempts

He's been laying here for what feels like an eternity, he can see his tunic folded up nicely on the table by his feet, strapped and immobile on this table, it looks like it would be cool to the touch, but it's actually quite warm. The Prison is warm, it's the middle of Winter, the furnaces and fireplaces are running full go to keep it comfortable, it was only because of the environment and what happened here that had led him to his escape attempt. He'd gotten close too, he'd made it to the Axis, managing to stay under the guards radars, and then, then someone saw him and screamed, the robes were a dead give away to his status at the present moment, and with the scream came the attention, and he was caught up by the guards and dragged back here, kicking and screaming.

The Warden had just come back, full time anyway, and he wanted no part with him. He heard the rumors, he knew what had happened to those who caught his attention, he saw the freed prisoners in their scars and limp forms, he didn't want the same end, it was anyone's natural reaction to attempt an escape from this place. He hadn't seen the legendary man when he was brought back here, he had been expecting to see him, possibly at the door, leering down at him, following as he was dragged back to this room of tortures.

Instruments littered the walls, hanging from hooks, and he eyed them warily, wondering which one would be used on him. They were all sharp, coming to a point, tainted crimson with rusty dried blood. His mind was whirling with the possibilities that might befall him now, he had managed to keep under the radar in his starting month stay into his undetermined sentence, and then word had reached his ears of _his _return.

He'd planned. And, he'd bolted. He almost got away too, if that one lone soul hadn't screamed, he would be safe and hidden now, probably down on Earth, where it was so vast, that the search parties would merely give up.

His eyes swivel around the dim room, lit by the warm glow of the blazing fire just a pace away from him in the fireplace, nearly a dozen candles or so flickering around him, the room was dim, but he could see without strain.

His heart beat picks up when he makes out the clomping of thick boots drawing towards him from outside the closed door, just barely at first, the fire crackles and pops rather loudly, but as whoever it is draws closer, they become more pronounced, and he holds his breath anxiously, this was it. This was when he became another statistic on this place's rap sheet, when one of those cruel instruments was pulled off the wall and dug into him, when he would be marred, forever scarred for his lapse in judgement.

The door handle jiggles as it turns, and he bites his lip, his breathing growing shallow, as though to be as silent as he could be. Maybe if he was quiet enough, they would go away, think the room was empty, and leave it be. But the lock clicked as the door handle turned completely, and the metal door creaked lightly as it was pushed open, the soul on the other end steps in, and he stares. His eyes wide in muted horror as he finally lays his hand on the man who had wrought so much anguish on so many locked in this place, his eyes swiveled to his hands, to see if they were truly stained red from the blood of his victims. They looked like normal, slightly tan hands. Clean, a few rings on the fingers, a bracelet curled around the left wrist, but they weren't red. They were just normal hands.

The only sound that fills the room is the cracking and popping of the fire, the creaking of the door as it's pushed closed, the click as the latch falls into the keeper, and the scribbling of a pen over dry parchment. But, he pays him no mind, standing there, just beyond the door, scribbling away on a piece of parchment, a file clasped in the fingers of his right hand, it's a thick file, it must be his, reports and the such, documentation of his crimes and sentences, reports of his mannerisms and behavior within these enclosed walls.

He takes this as his moment to survey the man that haunted so many other angels dreams, he looked normal enough, he has a dark beard, long hair pulled back in a bun, something is stuck in the bun, a feather, slim and sleek, he can see the pale blue eyes as they skim over the parchment in his hands, the one he's busy writing over. He doesn't look like a monster, a beast that tears into its victims until there's nothing left, he looks like an ordinary angel. With his hair pulled back, in the dim glowing light, he can see scars wrapping around his temple, little holes, perfectly rounded circles, and it makes him think of the Mindbreaker. He's seen numerous others with those same types of scars, they all saw the Healer once a day, usually in the morning, he was healing what the Mindbreaker had broken in their minds.

'_Had she done the same thing to him?' _He wonders silently. _'I can't think of any other way he could have gotten them. No one was ever created with them from the start. Not that he knows of.' _He stares at them as the other continues writing, turning the page over, his pale blue eyes skim over the print at the top, and the scratching of the pen begins anew. _'What if she broke him? Everyone knew of what happened in this place, the pain and horror, they all knew about it, but there was a few who told of a time before that, when he had been kinder, nicer even, where the torture hadn't been painful. No one ever believed those rumors, writing them off as chatter, those who spoke them were confused in the head. Another victim of the Mindbreaker. But he doesn't look like the monster he's made out to be. He looks normal. His pale blue eyes, from what he can of them, aren't filled with loathing or dangerous intent, from what he can see of them, they appear to be as warm as the heat emanating from the fireplace on his other side.'_

"You know what I hate most about these escape attempts?" He flips the page over to the next one, he doesn't sound angry, he doesn't sound like a monster, he sounds exasperated, and his tone is warm. It's not as cold as ice, it doesn't send shivers down his spine at the mere sound of it, like they all said it would, it's warm, kind even. "It's the paperwork. How many times can someone ask about the same incident with different phrasing?" He glances up at him, and their eyes meet, he stares as the man smiles slightly and looks back down to the page in his hand. "Enough to fill four pages, that's how much, it's ridiculous. I hate paperwork. It's so boring. I'd rather do anything else, _anything_, over paperwork."

He snorts softly, though it's more so because his lungs have decided they need more air, precious beloved oxygen, then out of amusement. Though, maybe a little from amusement too.

Those pale blue eyes flit back up to them, concern clouds them, so he knew the reasoning behind his snort too, dark eyebrows scrunched up slightly, the scratching of the pen comes to a halt. "Are you breathing?" His hands lower slightly, as he straightens a bit more, he just grows taller in his opinion. "You need to breath. I mean, I guess you don't have to if you don't want to, but I'd recommend it."

He exhales sharply, inhaling again equally again, and the file and paper work lowers completely as he steps forward. "Hey, it's okay, you're going to be okay."

He shakes his head frantically, and the man's eyebrows meet, leaning forward against the side of the table he's strapped to. "You're not?" He sets the file and parchment down at his side, he feels it rub lightly against his bare skin. "Why aren't you going to be okay?"

He looks away from him, from the Warden, he knows it's him, there's no one else who would have to complete the paperwork required when someone tries to escape, and his eyes swivel around the room, over the instruments on the walls.

"Ahh, I see," he looks back over to the Warden again, his eyes are skimming over the walls, clear distaste shading them slightly. "This room could do with a bit of a remodel. We _have_ to get rid of those things. They send the wrong sort of message then what I want to come across." He looks back down at him and smiles softly. "There's a few things that are being changed around here, but I'll put that remodel on the top of that list, it needs to be done immediately." His eyes flit back up to them again, and he frowns slightly, he's sure the Warden is secretly pulling his leg, he's now searching for the one that he'll use against him. "I'm not going to touch you with any of those things, they're despicable, _I _don't want to touch them."

"Y—You're not?"

He smiles back down at him. "Oh, so you can talk, Rizoel. I was getting worried." He shakes his head, reaching back for the feather sticking in his bun. "No, I'll be using this." He twists it between his fingers as he holds it out for him to see. "It's all I need to get this lesson across."

"Y—You know m—my name?"

Rizoel stares at him as he nods. "I do. I know all your names. I have a _great _memory. One of my best features. You know my name, right?"

He nods slightly. "T—Thaddeus."

"That's right, but you can call me _'Thaddy'_. My names a bit of a mouthful. It doesn't necessarily roll off the tongue, not like _'Thaddy' _does."

"Th—Thaddy?"

"Yep, call me _'Thaddy' _or _'Thadd'_, my full name's a bit too formal for my taste."

"P—Please don't hurt me, T—Thaddy."

"Hurt you?" He raises an eyebrow. "You can't hurt someone with a feather."

"Y—You could poke me in the eye with it."

"Point," he chuckles lightly, it's a rumbly sound, amused, possibly a bit fond. "I'm not going to poke you in the eye with it, you cheeky little thing."

"Y—You're not?"

"No," he shakes his head. "I can think of a few other places to poke with my feather other then your eye."

"W—Where?"

"Okay," the Warden nods lightly, taking up the file and parchment he had been working on, slides the page into the file, and leaves him for a moment. Rizoel watches him walk down the side of the table, setting the file and pen down next to his folded tunic before he turns and returns to his side. "I can see you need me more. I can finish the paperwork later." He smiles down at him playfully. "You're here for espionage, you're not a very good spy, if you get caught so easily."

"I—I would have gotten away!"

"You were spotted as soon as you stepped foot on the Axis."

"S—She was just really observant."

"Sure," he nods, rolling his eyes fondly. "I'll let you have it, because I'm nice." He looms over him, holding his feather up for him to see. "Now, let me start your punishment for trying to escape my Prison."

He watches him closely as he leans over, up over his right armpit, and he turns his head as much as is allowed in his confinement, trying to see what's going to happen. "I'm going to write my name on this little armpit, so that way everyone knows who it belongs to." He presses the quill of the feather into the bare armpit hollow, and he inhales sharply at the feeling, biting back a pile of giggles as he starts to circle the quill around. "We have to stir the ink a bit."

Rizoel shrieks when he writes out the first letter, scratching a capital _'T' _over his bare armpit, and the Warden chuckles above him, drawing another. "Let's double it, to make sure it sinks in."

"Eehehehehehehehehehe! Thhahahahahahahaddy!"

"H." He shrieks again, tugging at his arm desperately, when he writes it out again. "I'm not even half way there and you're already having trouble."

"Stohhohohhohohop!"

"Did you stop when the guards told you to?" He only gets laughter as his answer, so he wiggles the quill in again, the boy shrieks, throwing his head back. "Answer the question mister."

"Nohhohohohohoho! NO!"

"Then, I'm not stopping because you told me to, either." He wiggles the quill in again and the boy shrieks brightly, shaking his head from side to side, tugging on his trapped arm again. "Not that I'd have to listen to you anyway. I'm Warden, I don't have to listen to my prisoners. I'm also older, I don't have to listen to a youngling like you." He reaches back, sticking the feather back into his bun, and reaches back down again, fluttering his fingers over the exposed armpit. Rizoel shrieks brightly, letting loose a bright, sharp _'EEP!' _before falling into a fit of hysterical laughter.

Thaddeus smiles down at him, taking in the sweetness that was his laughter, it was palpable, like a fledgling's. He pokes him in the cheek lightly. "Did you know that you have dimples?" The younger angel shrieks with laughter, trying to edge away from his fingers, shaking his head frantically. "You didn't?" He pokes him in the cheek again. "They're right here. It's actually quite adorable. I don't think I've seen them on anyone but a fledgling before."

"Aahahahahaahahahaha! Hahahahahhahahahaha! Geehehehehhehehet ohhhohohohohout! Stoohohohhohhohop!"

"I don't think so." The Warden shakes his head, leaning over him, reaching out with his free hand, he flutters the finger of his left hand over his other armpit. The young angel screams loudly, cackling loudly, jumping from side to side in an attempt to break free or evade his fingers. He accomplishes neither. "We're just warming up, you and me, you tried to escape from my custody, you're really going to get it now." He pulls back, and the young angel heaves for a breath, giggling breathlessly. "Okay, we're warmed up now, let's get on to the real torture."

"Nohoho!"

"Let's have a snack." He steps down to hover over his belly, Rizoel watches him closely, giggles breathlessly even still.

"Whahahhahaat?"

"Let's have some berries."

His eyes widen in quick realization, and despite his predicament, the knowledge of his whereabouts slips away as his giggling picks up and he shakes his head frantically from side to side, trying to suck in his belly as much as his consistent giggling will allow. "No! NO! Not that! Not those! Get away! No!"

Thaddeus chuckles softly, looming over his belly dangerously. "Oh, I can tell this is going to be fun." He crosses his arms behind his back and leans over him, taking a deep breath in his slow descent, Rizoel shrieks when he touches down, shrieking with laughter as he rests there, waiting for it to come, it's going to be awful.

Then he blows.

Rizoel's eyes widen wide and he squeals with laughter. "EEIIEEEIEEIHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NO! NOHOHOHO! EEIEIIEAIAAAIHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOT AGAIN! NOHHOHOHOEHEHEIEIEIEIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"And, again."

"EEIEIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! BAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! EIEIEIEHEAIHEHEEEEEHEHEIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHAAHAHAHAHHAHAA! STOP! NO! EEEIEIEHEHEHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! THADDY! THAHAHHAHAHAADDY! EIEIEIEHAHAAHAHAHAHAHHA!"

"Just a bit more."

"AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NO! NO MORE! EEEIEIEIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NONONO! EEIEIEIEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! EEIEIEIEIEEEIEIEEHEHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHHAHAHAHAA THAHAHAHAHAHAADDYYY! PLEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHHAHAHAASE! EEIEIEIEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NO! NOHOHOHOHO! EEIEIEIHEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

He pulls away, laughing softly at the panting hysterical mess he's made of the boy under him, standing back up, he uncurls his hands from behind him and leans forward against the table. Rizoel pants, giggling hysterically, starring up at the Warden with a big smile. "You have dimples, and it's very cute." He giggles harder and had his face not been so red, it would have burned red with a blush.

The Warden pushes away from the table, running the fingers of his right hand down the edge as he walks down towards his feet, he wiggles them, giggling all the while, watching as the older angel slowly undoes the straps from around them, then he comes around the other side, up above him. Instead of undoing those straps, he pushes his arms down and leans over him. "I need to make sure this lesson sticks the first time. I am not doing this paperwork more than once."

Rizoel's eyes widen again, as the older angel takes a deep breath, and his head rushes down to his right armpit.

He squeals, catching his footing, when he blows viciously into the sensitive skin, and pushes himself up with his feet. "EEIEIEIEIAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA! NOT THERE! NOHOHOHOHO! EEIEIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHA! THAHAHAHAHAHADDYYY! EEIEIEIAHAAHAHAHHAHAAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOP! EIEIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHAHA!" He curls his fingers into the bottom of the Wardens tunic and tugs desperately, it makes him laugh softly, and he squeals again at the feeling of it. "Are you holding onto me?" The young angel shrieks when he looks down, his beard brushing over his bare armpit. "You are, that's sweet." "EIEIEIEIAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHA! NOHHHOHOHO! NO MORE! EEIEIEHEHEHAHAHAHAAHHAHAA AHAHAHAHAHAHAA! EEIIEAIHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!"

"Are you ever going to try and escape again?"

"EIEIEIAAHAHAAIAHAHAHHAHAHA NOHOHHOHO! NOOOOO!"

"Good boy." He finally pulls away, leaving him a panting, giggling mess sagging against the table, spent after all that. He feels the straps holding his wrists be undone, and he slowly curls his arms down, around himself, giggling breathlessly, as fingers curl under his arms and heft him up into the sitting position. He leans back limply against the older angel, until he turns him around, reaching up to caress his cheeks, rubbing away the tear tracks. "Why'd you make a runner on me?"

"I—I wahahas s—scared."

"I see," he steps closer, between his legs, and reaches down to curl them around his waist. The young angel hiccups softly and tilts his head. "Come on, squirt, make like a baby koala and latch on." Scooting forward, he curls his legs around the Warden's waist, curling his arms up around his neck, he feels himself being lifted from the table, hanging from the older angel's front. He rests his chin on his shoulder, his beard brushes against the side of his cheek lightly, swaying as he walks from the metal table to the wooden one, gathering up his file, pen, and Rizoel's tunic.

Rizoe watches where they're going from over his shoulder, expecting to be taken back to his cell when he steps out of the room, but they turn, taking the first step up, and he lifts his head up. "Where are we going?"

"Upstairs." The Warden states, curling his arm down under him, hoisting him up as he begins to slip, he adjusts his grip for his betterment in his hold. "You're going to stay with me for the next couple of nights."

He shrugs, yawning widely, and lays his head down on the Warden's shoulder. "Okay." He closes his eyes. "Thanks for not hurting me."

"I'm never going to hurt you, Rizoel." He feels warm lips press against his cheek lightly. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Never."

Thaddeus pushes his door open, steps into his room, and turns, closing it behind him. His first stop is to his desk, where he sets the file with the half finished paperwork and Rizoel's tunic, and then he makes his second stop to his bed, leaning over, her guides the younger angel down, laying him down. Rizoel curls up over top of the blankets, goose pimples form over his skin. "Do you want your shirt?"

"No, I don't like sleeping in it."

He shivers lightly, and Thaddeus smiles down at him, petting his hair back. "You can climb under the blankets if you're cold, they're nice and thick blankets, warm for this time of winter." He nods lightly, scrambling under the Warden's blankets, huddling underneath them, peeking out at the older angel from the hood he creates with them.

The Warden smiles again. "I'm going to stoke the fire a bit to get it back up, but then I'll join you."

Rizoel nods, yawning again, he's completely spent now, and warm and comfortable. The man runs his finger down the bridge of his nose before turning to do the task he assigned himself, and he watches, with half lidded eyes, as he bend into the fireplace slightly and pokes at the glowing orange logs, he blows into his hand a small flame and drops it into the embers, it ignites instantly, roaring up into a cracking fire.

His eyes flutter open again when the bed moves, a warm body sliding in next to him, and he hesitantly huddles closer to the new warmth. A light chuckle reverberates through the silent room. "You can come closer if you want, I promise I don't bite."

Nodding, the young boy sidles up close to the older angel, curling around his side, into the warmth he offers, and an arm curls down around him, pulling him closer, fingers rub at his lower back soothingly. "Go back to sleep, little Rizo, you're safe here. I'll protect you."


	188. Dealing With Separation Anxiety

He knew there was a problem when he returned, his bed was empty, and the door to the washroom was cracked open. He sets his bag on his desk, his whip beside it, and cautiously crosses over to the cracked door, curling his fingers around the edge, he pushes it open, peering inside silently. A frown crosses his features at the sight that awaits him, huddled over the toilet, chest heaving from the force of his retches, Jahoel wheezes softly, curled up as much as he can be in his precarious position.

Frowning softly, he steps away from the entry way, stepping into the washroom with him. "Oel?" The young angel looks up over his shoulder, his pale face brightens as he spots him, and he turns, stumbling to his feet quickly. He catches him as he throws himself forward, wrapping him in his arms as he clutches to the front of his tunic, curling his left hand around the back of his braided head. "Are you sick?"

He shakes his head. "You were gone for so long. I thought you weren't coming back. Where'd you go? Why'd you leave?"

"You've been sick since I left?"

Jahoel nods, pressing closer to him, rubbing his cheek over the Warden's upper belly. "I missed you so much! Please don't leave again!"

He sighs sadly, nodding to himself, and bends slightly to sweep him up off his feet, cradling an arm under his knees. Jahoel presses closer, curling his arm around his neck, pressing his damp cheek into the side of his neck. They'd have to get this addressed, with him helping them build the Prison system down in Hell, he was going to be away quite intermittently, and he didn't want the little angel to be getting sick every time he left. "You know where I went, I told you before I left," he lowers the little thief into their bed, tucking the blankets up under his chin, he sits beside him on the edge. "Did you get sick like this when I left the last time?"

The little angel cuddles down into his pillow, under his blankets, and nods slightly. Fingers scratch lightly at his head, between his braids, and he sighs contentedly, nuzzling down against his pillow. "You should have told me."

"I didn' want you to be upset."

"I wouldn't have been upset," he pokes him in the nose lightly before returning to his scratching. "And, you know it. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong. I care about you, my little thief, I don't like seeing you this way."

""m sorry."

"It's okay," Thaddeus sighs deeply. "You get some sleep. We'll talk about it more in the morning."

"St'y?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

…

"What can I do for you two?" The mental specialist leans back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, looking over at the two of them kindly, smiling slightly, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. "You wanted to see me?"

"We did," Thaddeus smiles at him, smoothing down the boy's curls next to him. "We have a bit of a problem."

"What sort of problem?" He tilts his head slightly.

The Warden turns to look down at the little thief next to him, Jahoel looks away, to something in the distance, it had been the elder who had wanted him to come, he was perfectly fine dealing with it on his own.

Sighing, he nods, turning back to the Virtue. "Jahoel gets sick."

"Everyone gets sick, what makes this worrisome?"

"He gets sick every time I leave him for an extended period of time. From the day I leave to the day I get back."

"Aahhh, I see," Akriel nods, turning to look at the boy next to the Warden. "That is worrisome. What else happens Jahoel?"

The younger angel shakes his head stiffly, crossing his arms tightly, refusing to look at either of them. "Nothin'."

"Oel, please," the angel next to him turns to him, guiding his head back around with a finger under his chin, his eyes are worried and pleading. "I just want to help you."

Sighing deeply, the little angel pulls his head free and looks down to his lap, tapping his fingers against his left upper arm firmly. "I get scared that he won't come back."

"Scared enough that it makes you sick?"

He nods. "That something might happen, and I'll be all alone again. I don't like it when he leaves for a long time."

"Mhmm, Thadd what's the longest you've been away for?"

"Maybe four days."

Akriel nods again. "What happens when he's gone?"

"I already told you!"

"What _else _happens when he's gone?"

Jahoel scrunches his shoulders up and sinks lower in his seat, looking down to the Virtue's boots instead of up to meet his eyes, that's okay, not many of his patients that come to see him for his specialty look him in the eyes at first. "I get really worried and scared. Like something is going to happen to me because he's not there to protect me, or that something will happen to him and he'll never come back for me."

"Do you have trouble sleeping while he's away?"

He nods.

Akriel hums, nodding slightly, and turns back to the boys self-appointed guardian. "I'd say it's an anxiety disorder. The unusual sense of impending doom, insomnia, the fact that he gets physically sick. More precisely, I'd say it was a certain degree of separation anxiety. I am assuming he becomes just a bit excessively clingy a few days before you leave, or he starts acting out in a manner that causes you to delay your departure?"

Thaddeus nods in confirmation. "How would you say?"

"Easy," he nods towards the boy. "This all occurs on the day you leave until the day you come back. Think of it as one long anxiety attack while you're away." He shakes his foot slightly. "What was it like for him before you came along?"

Thaddeus sighs softly. "I'm not all too sure, he's not very talkative about it." He leans back in his chair, turning to watch the boy for a moment. "He snuck to Solitary once, before they were moved upstairs, he said he saw his old guardian down there."

"Okay, what did he say about her?"

He rubs at his chin lightly, scratching at his beard. "He said she left him in the Garden. He begged me not to get bored with him and leave him like she did. Apparently, from what I could make out in the midst of his cries, she left him in the Garden and didn't come back."

"I see, and that, that right there, is the start of it all." He raises a finger in indication. "She left him, while he was still a fledgling, impressionable, thinking the world of her, she told him to stay in that spot, promised to come back for him," he looks to the young angel for clarification, it's barely noticeable, but he jerks his head slightly in the form of a nod. "And, never did. How long did you wait there, Jahoel?"

The attention of the two of them is directed to the boy, and he shrinks in on himself at the weight of it. "Two and a half days. Joshua found me after that."

"And, you were on your own ever since then, weren't you?" He jerks his chin to the Warden. "Until Thaddy came along."

"I have friends!"

"Yes, but none that you know you can return to at the end of every day, is there?"

Jahoel huffs indignantly and shakes his head stiffly. "No."

"Right, and then Thaddy offered you the same sort of shelter that your old guardian did, didn't he?"

He nods stiffly.

Nodding again, Akriel turns back to the Warden. "Like I said, it's an anxiety disorder, more on the point, separation anxiety."

The Warden nods seriously, looking over to the grumpy boy next to him, reaching up to rub his curls comfortingly. Jahoel huffs and looks away from them, but he leans into his touch, and they both smile at him for it. "How do we treat it?"

"Well, first, create a panic pack, for when you're away, he has things he can turn to for him to distract himself or remind him of you. Something personal, one of your tunic, something that smells like you. Give him something to keep his hands and mind busy, games, academic games like puzzles or crosswords or the such, art supplies, something to keep him stimulated and from thinking on your being gone."

"Okay, we can do that once we get back."

"Next, create routines for separations and when you reunite. Predictable and regular routines offer comfort to children with separation anxiety. You still have a room set up at the Pavilion, right?" Thaddeus nods in confirmation to his inquiry, and Akriel nods in turn, continuing on with his instruction. "Start with a day, keep him at home for a day, in this case the Prison, he needs to stay put for a day, while you go out and tend to errands or meet up with a friend, but leave him on his own. Set up a time you'll come back, say, nine o'clock, so that way he has that expectation, stay away for the day and return at the time you say you will, so he knows that when you leave, you're going to come back, and he can expect your return at the specified timeframe. Then, step it up, stay away for a night. The two, then three, so on and the like until you hit the maximum number of days you'll be away when you leave to return to your assignment again. He'll come expect you to be back, let's say it's four days, he'll expect you to be back in four days, at nine o'clock."

"Okay, we can do that, do you have pen and paper?"

The Virtue nods, reaching over for the requested items on his desk, and passes them over, the Warden takes notes on his instructions.

"Okay, you need to stay positive and supportive at all times, it'll become frustrating at times, but don't let it affect how you treat him or behave. It's not something he can help. Never scold him for it, when he acts out before you go, or tell him he's acting like a small child, don't minimize his feelings. Instead, validate them and offer support; _'I know it makes you sad when I have to go. I feel sad too. Let's both make something that that you can keep while I'm away', _be supportive. It's not just hard on you, it's hard on him too, it's something that has been ingrained in him from an early age, he can't help it, when you leave, automatically, he doesn't expect you to come back. We're going to change that expectation."

"Okay, validate, make something that he can keep, don't scold. Got it."

Akriel nods. "That should be it, if it escalates or he continues to get sick, let me know, I'll prescribe him something for it. But let's not jump to that end so early on."

"I will, thank you, Ak, it really means a lot to me that you'd help."

"Of course, Thadd, keep my up to date, if you need anything else just let me know."

…

"Okay, you have your pack?"

Jahoel nods, sitting huddled up on their bed, hugging his pack to his chest.

"You have the blanket we made?"

He nods again, tugging the blanket around his shoulders tighter around him.

"Good, good," the Warden leans over the bed, caressing his cheek lightly, leaning in to kiss him on the forehead. "I've told Saba to keep an eye on you, if you start getting sick I want you to let him know, and he'll come get me, understand."

"I understand, Thaddy."

"Good boy," he leans in closer, pressing their foreheads together. "I'm going to be back on Thursday at six o'clock in the evening."

"You'll be back on Thursday at six o'clock in the evening."

"Good angel, you be good alright, and, like I said, if you start getting sick again you tell Saba and he'll come get me."

"Okay, Thaddy."


	189. Even Though I'm Leaving

"Where's Nis?"

It's not their brother gaining the fatal wound, him dying in their arms in the middle of a decimated battle field, watching the light leave his eyes, that breaks them. It's seeing the look on his two charges faces when they come back without him, the utter horror and agony that shines in their eyes when they tell them, softly, voices filled with so much pain.

How does one tell a child that the one raising them was never going to come home again, not in the way he always promised to, that they would never be there to catch them again when they fell.

Paul goes pale in the face, his smile slowly falling, stopping his searching for his guardian, his hands coming together, clutching them to his chest tightly, like a fledgling who had just been told the worst possible news and they're unsure as to what to do now.

It's young Sasha who breaks the silence that falls over them, his hands pressed to his lips, as he breaths a sob, gut wrenching, it forces him to bend over, fold in on himself.

None of them move, standing there, still soaked from the rain, in their armor, watching as the youngest of his two charges turns and bolts, his older brother following after him, right at his heel, they don't chase after them, they don't need to, they all know where they're going. The Pavilion feels empty now, it's duller, a piece is missing, a big piece that no one had imagined losing so soon.

But they know someone has to go, someone has to be with them, they shouldn't be alone right now. They all exchange looks, silently urging the other to go, and it's the medic who steps forward, making his way down the hall slowly, to the room at the end, his Captain's. He comes to stand in the doorway, looking in on them, his heart breaking even more for them both. The others shuffle in behind him; they've chosen him as the mouth piece, but they're all in this together. His charges are their charges now.

Sasha has curled himself up on his bed, curled around his cloak, they can see the red and gold from where they stand, clutching it tightly, pressing it to his face as he sobs his heart out.

Paul was throwing things around, anger overtaking him in his sudden grief, snarling and yelling. He turns at the motion in the doorway, throwing a book at the medic, they all duck under it, it slams into the wall behind them and falls to lay there on the floor. "Why didn't you save him!"

"I—"

"You're the medic! You should have saved him! It's your _only _job!"

"Paul, I tried, I tried as hard as I could—"

"You didn't try hard enough! You could have saved him if you wanted to! You should have tried harder!" His voice cracks as he screams at him, winding his arm back to throw another book, but he's shaken by a sudden sob, the book falls from his hand and he collapses to his knees, curling his arms around himself with the force of his sobs. _"You should have saved him!"_

None of them know what to do, they don't move, watching as both young boys break as the news finally starts to sink in. No longer will they feel his warm hugs, his arms curling around them from behind, pulling them back against his chest, his chin resting on their heads. No longer will they feel the tingly sensation of him rubbing his beard into their bellies or their necks. There to catch them when training was too rough, and they needed someone to hold them up. He was gone, he was gone, and he wasn't coming back.

They were alone again.

…

They had given their brother to the Rit Zien when they came to collect him, his passing had been much more gentle with them there, and they had taken him from them, taking him to the Healer's domain, where Azrael awaited his arrival, to prepare and guide for his final burial. They stood by and watched as they readied him, dressing him in his ceremonial robes, doing his hair up nice. They watched as the funeral pyres were constructed. Then, they retreated back to their home, to the Pavilion, their hearts heavy with the knowledge that they were leaving him behind.

They had been against it, but the two of them wanted to see him before they set him on the pyre, and they couldn't bring themselves to deny this request, he was their everything, he was their world, the one that had given them a home when they needed it, and now he was gone.

They stood by as the two young boys stepped forward cautiously, towards his still form, shivering, holding themselves up just barely, they were on the verge of breaking at the sight of him like that.

He was so still, his eyes were closed, one could think he was merely sleeping if they hadn't known any better. His hands were folded together, the hilt of his sword under his fingers, he didn't look like he was dead.

They stand at his bedside for a long time, staring down at him, and then their knees give out and they fall. No one catches them. They stand guard at the door, making sure no one disturbs their final goodbye, the pyres are being prepared, it's the evening before his send off. They kneel at his side, their heads pressed against his upper arm, their tears darkening his sleeve.

They're allowed their moment, no one has the heart to tell them to hurry or shoo them away, the healers steer clear of them, the Archangel watches them from afar, his heart breaking for them. They're both still so young.

The two of them ask if they can stay with him, and they nod, making them up beds next to him, standing guard as they sleep with their guardian for the last night.

They walk in the procession, behind his form as the other Power's carry the board he's resting on to the waiting pyre, holding each other's hands, clutching at each other, as the Powers slide him on the pyre and step aside, coming up to surround them from everyone else. Michael says a few words, none of them hear what he says, watching as he lights the pyre with the torch, closing ranks as the tears begin to fall. Sasha turns to hide in his brother's side, and Paul stares ahead, watching the licking flames consume the pyre completely, taking everything with it. Them in their ceremonial robes, and their two little charges wearing one of his tunics, it still smelled like him, it brought some semblance of comfort.

His two little charges break after that day, broken little messes, lost without the guiding force that was Nisroc. They didn't talk, they didn't move, they retreated to his room after, curling up in his bed together, and there they stayed.

Nisroc would never leave them willingly, he would never break their hearts like this on purpose, and they knew that they knew this too, but it did nothing to stop the pain that dug into their little worn forms. There had been so much loss, so much anguish, that those two little guys had lived through. They had come back from it all, bounced right back, with some help, but on a trigger, and this, this was the final blow of the wind that blew their precarious houses of cards over. They were broken. There was nothing left for them. Nisroc had meant the world to them. He was their everything.

They had quickly moved passed the first stage of grief; denial. Where they spent most of their days curled up in his bed, under his blankets, their heads buried in his pillows, swallowed by the big bed, both sharing the spot that would forever smell like him, surrounded by the blankets and pillows that smelled like him. They weren't alone for the first couple of days. Thaddeus and the guards joined them, the Warden curled around the youngest of the two, holding him close as the boy clutched to him tightly. The two guards, Sabaoth and Osmadiel curled around his older charge, hiding him from the world, as though they would forcibly hide him from everything that would cause him any more pain.

They'd lay in his bed, their backs facing each other, one clutching onto his cloak and the other onto his night shirt, staring blankly at the walls, sometimes their eyes would flit down to the door, as though he would come walking through, smiling and apologizing for playing such a cruel prank on them, he'd climb up between them, pulling them close to him, his fingers wiggling into their sides until the sadness was washed away and they were giggling messes pushing against him but trapped within his arms, promising that everything was okay.

All of them tried more then once to get them to eat, they'd bring them anything, fruits and vegetables and sweets, anything and everything they both liked. But they'd turn them away, stare not breaking, waiting for their passed guardian to return to their sides once more. They said they wanted some of Nisroc's stew, and they gave up after that, after a long week, because they couldn't give them what they truly wanted.

Silence had fallen over the Pavilion in the wake of his loss, and then his precession into the afterlife, they all walked like lost souls without any sort of direction, the only thing that brought them together was gone, what kept them from being swallowed by their grief was the two young boys curled up in his bed, the two boys who had been through much too much and lived to tell the tale, and they worried that this was it, this was the thing they would not come back from.

Abraxos sighed, setting the plate of cookies down on the table, collapsing in the seat next to Puriel.

"No luck?"

"None." He shakes his head, burying his head in his hands. "I wish he were here."

"We all do, little brother." Puriel pets his hair lightly. "We all wish he was here."

"His loss has touched many." Hasmal looked up from Haniel, petting the older Power's hair softly, his laughter had left with their older brother. "But I fear, none so much as them."

"He would know how to fix this."

Titus rubs at his forehead lightly. "If he were here, none of this would need fixing."

"How long has it been since they last ate?" Puriel sighs deeply, looking up from Abraxos's worn form, and they all exchange a look. "Right. None of us know. They're going to waste away."

"Then, what do you suggest we do, we're all ears."

"There's nothing we can do but keep trying."

They'd already been through anger, and then they flew through bargaining, they were flying through the stages of grief.

Depression hit the hardest, the hardest of them all, and it brought them all to new lows.

Paul and Sasha slept most of the day away, curled up together in his bed, surrounded by things that smelled like him. They hadn't bathed in nearly a week and a half, refusing to get out of the bed that needed stripped and changed, that needed washing in its own right. They barely ate, they didn't talk, they barely, drank, all they did was sleep.

When they weren't sleeping, they were staring at the walls, the doorway, the walls again.

It was Puriel and Thaddeus that stepped up to the plate, that came to them, the others not knowing what to do, and seeing as the arrangements that had been made in the event that this came to pass had declared who went to who, it wasn't really their place to step in for anything.

They sat next to them, on either side of the bed, running their fingers through the young boy's hair, whispering down to them softly, anything that came to mind, just to stimulate their minds into working. They begged the two of them to open up, to come to them, to grieve with them, they didn't have to do this alone, to let them help the two of them through this. To know there was no forgetting him, but to learn how to live on, live on for him.

The medic and the Warden were the ones that came in to them crying, and they'd sit next to them, running their fingers through their hair, offering them comfort by mere presence alone, knowing that words would offer no semblance of comfort.

When the tears came, and come they did, they were hot and infinite, unending torrents. Puriel and Thaddeus knew they were for them too, somewhere deep down in themselves, for the children becoming adults, for pain entering their worlds without the decency to knock first.

The numbness of his loss had passed, and the pain would hit them out of nowhere, harsh and unforgiving, doubling her over and taking control, racking their little frames with sobs so heavy that they were like mini earthquakes. _'Where are you?' _They would cry together in their silent ways. _'Where have you gone?' _Of course, there was never any answer, not really, just silence and sobs. _'Why have you left us?'_

As the medic, he knew that crying was a healthy release, the best way to express emotions one could not find a way to put into words that they did not know how to speak, but for his dear little youngling, it was a habit now. Thaddeus knew just as well, he had learned to be a medic in his own right, if only to take care of his prisoners himself, if it were something minor to be cared for. There were countless days, as they stayed behind to care for their two young charges, that they sat beside them as they just cried because that was all their little bodies could think to do.

The blue feeling washed in like an unwanted wave, knocking their sandcastles flat, washing them back into the surf. The laid and stared at the walls, more tears flowing, sobs silent against the air around them. They let them fall, not raising a hand to wipe them away, letting them flow freely down their cheeks, clutching to his cloak and tunics, pressing them against their faces, breathing in his scent. The tears splashed down on the pillow in rain-like patterns and soaked in leaving dark splotches on the dark amber pillowcases.

They became concerned when it seemed as though they were not going to pull though this stage and called on the only one they would trust to help in this situation, and Akriel had come to meet them in the silence as they fell into one of their naps, in the doorway to the late Captain's room. He offered them soft condolences, and they thanked him in kind, gesturing to the two sleeping younglings.

He looked them over as they slept and shook his head sadly, they were wasting away, holding on by a mere thread. They hadn't eaten in a number of weeks, and they drank very rarely, it was only the fact that they were angels that kept them from dying from malnutrition. There was nothing he could do, this was beyond him, beyond his Archangel, they were fading away in their grief, the only one that could stand a hope of helping them now had been laid to rest.

'_Go seek out Father, see if you can get in, the Throne Room has been locked up since the day of the burning of the pyre. Only He can help them now.' _

The Virtue spared them one last glance, shaking his head sadly, and silently made his leave.

They loath to leave them, but Nisroc would turn in his grave if they let his two precious charges waste away into fading so young, so they went, to seek out Father, to try and gain entry into the sealed Throne Room.

It had been a shock of their lives when they'd been granted entrance.

When they returned, they didn't return empty handed, too focused on helping their two charges to focus on what they had brought back with them. It hadn't been his time, that wasn't how his life's story was supposed to end, so the three Brothers had come together and returned him to how he had been, so he could continue writing to his story to his true ending.

He took one look at what had become of his two charges and rushed forward, moving quite fluidly for a dead man, kneeling at one side and then moving to the other. He was kneeling before the older of the two when dull eyes blinked open, squinting up at him, he blinked a few times, his mind was slow moving.

"'is…..? 'ere?"

"I'm here, Pauly," he strokes his fingers over his pale cheek. "I'm sorry I left. I didn't want to."

"ack?"

The Captain nods. "I'm back, Pauly, I'm not leaving again."

"ug, N'ssy?"

"Of course, Pauly, come here, little one." He helps the young boy sit up, he's much too weak from malnutrition to do much of anything on his own, Paul collapses on him, curling his arms around him as tightly as he can manage, and he stands slightly to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling the boy over into his lap. Hot tears wet his tunic as he sobs weakly into his chest, fingers curling into the front of his shirt, and he hugs him close, careful not to harm him. "It's okay, Pauly, everything's going to be okay."

"N's?" He looks over his shoulder as his littlest boy wakes from his slumber, slowly pushing himself up, blinking away the slumber from his eyes. "'ts 'ou?"

"It's me, baby Sasha, I'm here."

"is!" He lunges forward, as best as he can, and falls against his side. He makes it work though, turning slightly, pulling him around, his lap is big enough for the both of them. "M'ss'd y'o!" He cries softly into his neck, and he sighs softly, he knew this would come when he came back, he has a feeling there's going to be quite a few tearful ones to tend to. But these ones first. These were the most important. The closest to his heart. "I missed you too, my fledgling." He presses a kiss to his cheek tenderly. "I'm here, it's okay."

They both press close, holding onto him desperately, as though if they let go, he'd disappear like some cruel dream.

The Captain presses a kiss to both of their foreheads. "Do you two want to go take a bath?" The both nod against him. He kisses their heads again. "Then, lets go take a bath."

He nods to the other two in the doorway, and they nod in return, Puriel and Thaddeus step forward, taking their respective charge up into their arms, they're too weak to walk on their own at the moment. Both Paul and Sasha whine softly, reaching out for him, and he reaches back, taking hold of one of the hands they hold out to him, giving them a firm squeeze so they know he's there, he's real.

They make their way to the washroom in the back, he notices two of his shirts sitting on one of the heating vents, they'd been trying to get them out of that bed for a while it appeared. The two set the boys down at the edge of the heated lake, and he kneels holding their hands as they slowly strip them of their soiled clothes.

With their aid, they make it into the water, all five of them. He sits between them, holding onto their hands, as his brother and grown charge settle beside him, the two boys laying between their legs. He talks down to them, keeping them both away, as the others bath them gently, first their bodies and then their hair. They finish quick enough, both of them scrubbed clean, and carry them out of the water. They dress them first and change themselves, then carry them back down the hall, he lifts both hands he holds, pressing his lips to the backs. "I'm going to make you two some stew and we'll get those bellies full before we get you two back in bed."

They both nod weakly, Sasha rests his head against Thaddeus's shoulder, yawning widely. Paul does much of the same, pressing his cheek in the crook of Puriel's shoulder, watching through half lidded eyes as they make their way into the open space of the lounge and kitchenette. They sit the boys in the lounge, with their two back up guardians, Puriel and Thaddeus are happy to stay with them, in the right place, where they can see Nisroc preparing his famous stew in the kitchen.

The boys watch him through half lidded eyes.

He makes his stew with good time, filling two bowls, and makes his way back to them. The part from each other so he can sit himself between them, passing the bowls to the two he had assigned as their guardians in the wake of his untimely demise, Puriel and Thaddeus take them, helping spoon feed them their stew, the first thing they'd eaten in nearly two and a half weeks.

They climb into his lap sluggishly, and he curls his arms around them, pulling them close, encouraging them to eat bite after bite, until their bowls are emptied.

The others can have what's left, he made a rather large pot, let it be a surprise.

"Okay, boys, let's get you back in bed."

Sasha rubs his cheek over his arm. "Comin' 'oo?"

"Of course, I'm coming, baby Sasha. I'm never leaving you again. Not for a long while to come."

The youngest of his two charges smiles softly, letting his eyes slide closed, Paul smiles over at him, licking his lips softly.

They wait for the Captain to climb in first, situating himself in the middle, and then raises his arms, for them to set the boys down at his sides. Paul and Sasha curl in close, clutching at his tunic, cuddling in as close as they can get. He kisses their heads softly, rubbing their shoulders lightly. "You two go to sleep. I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here when you wake again."

He's not sure how it happens, but he dozes off himself, holding his two boys close, and when he wakes (they don't) he's surrounded by bodies of slumbering figures. Thaddeus has curled up at their feet, like an overgrown cat, resting soundly. Osmadiel and Sabaoth are resting at his side, leaning up against the side the of the bed, he moves his hand slightly, careful not to disturb Paul, and rubs their heads fondly. Haniel and Hasmal are curled in a similar way on the other side, and he does the same with his left hand, careful not to wake Sasha. Puriel's sleeping leaned back in a chair, his feet kicked up on the desk. Titus is next to him, his head resting against the medic's shoulder, snoring softly. Abraxos and Abraxas are curled up together at the foot of his bed, on Thaddeus's other side.

Movement in the doorway catches his attention, he looks up, meeting his archangel's eyes.

Michael smiles at him. "They all missed you rather dearly."

"I missed them too."

The Archangel raises his chin slightly. "I'm happy to have you back, Nis."

"I'm happy to be back."


	190. Working With Scars

"Puri, we need you to stage an intervention."

The medic looks up from his journal with a raised eyebrow. "Stage an _intervention_?" He looks between the two Powers in his room. "For whom?"

"The one you know best."

Nisroc elbows the one next to him. "What Abe means to say is _'Tus'_. We need you to stage an intervention for Tus."

"For Tus?" He closes his journal and leans back. "What's he done?"

"An _'intervention', _more like an adjustment, we want you to fix his attitude."

"His attitude?"

Sighing, the oldest Power pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head softly. "Tus needs some help. He's been a right grump for the last week, and well, while we'd gladly handle it, we think you'd be better suited for the job."

"Better suited for the job?"

Abraxos nods, crossing his arms. "He's been your baby brother longer then he's been ours, you know him better then we do, you'd be best at it."

Smiling to himself, it was a rare occurrence that he got to do _that _to his precious baby brother these days, who was he to turn away such an opportunity. He rubs his hands together and nods, pushing himself up from his chair, and stretches himself out. "I'd be happy to help."

It didn't take him long to capture his prey.

"What did you say you wanted?"

"Just lay down," the medic pushes the younger Power back against his pillow, his scarred torso completely bare, situating him in the position he needs him to be in for max opportunity. "I want to check the scar tissue."

"Puri, it's been scarred since I've been a Power, I think it's fine."

"Ah, you say that," he holds up a finger. "But then you stiffen up and can't move."

"It's only my shoulder that does that, and it's only occasionally that it happens, I'm fine Puri, you just worry too much."

Puriel smiles, reaching out, poking him in the nose softly. "Can I help it," and scratches a finger under his chin gently, Titus snorts softly, shaking his head frantically. "You're my beloved baby brother." He reaches up, pulling his arms up over his head by the wrists, leaning up over him, looming even, and Titus leans back into the pillow to keep the eye contact stable. "Let me check up here." He leans in close, and the younger Power scrunches up slightly involuntarily, he tilts to the side, trying to lean away from him as he slowly approaches. "Wait! Wait, what are you doing!"

"I'm checking the scar tissue, I told you, this is where it's in its largest quantity, it's only right that I start here." His slight beard rubs against the undercurve of his cheek as he comes in closer. "Wouldn't it be something terrible if your neck stiffened up and you could move your head?"

Titus's eyes widen in realization and he squirms in his older brothers hold. "Wait! Wait, you tricked me! Let me go!"

"Tricked you?" His breath skims over the skin of his neck. "I would never. I'm of the upmost seriousness." He leans in close, his lips rubbing as light as a feather over his neck. "Okay, maybe I _did _trick you." And he dives him, curling into his neck, perhaps it's a bit cruel, the scars make the skin a bit more sensitive.

The younger Power shrieks lightly, his entire body scrunching up to the left, as much as it can under the weight of his older brother. "Waitwaitwait! Nohohohohoho! Puhhuhuhuhuhuriihihihihi! Whyhyhyhyhyy!"

"I'll tell you the truth, because I'm nothing but honest." He presses a playful kiss to one of the raised rune scars and his younger brother shrieks. "I was asked to, and me being me, how could I pass up that opportunity." He blows a light raspberry against the next rune scar and Titus squeaks, shrieking brightly with laughter. "I haven't gotten to play with you since, well, I think it was the day you became an official Power. It's been much too long." He leans back in, nibbling over the next scar, and Titus hisses, squeaking like a fledgling.

He pulls back, smiling down at his younger brother, he stares up at him, a slight smile ghosting his features, giggling softly like a giggly little fledgling. He releases his grip on the younger Power's wrists and Titus immediately curls up, wrapping his arms around himself, trying to cover his bare torso, Puriel gestures to him as a whole. "And, look at you, all perfectly ready for me to really get my game on." With great skill, he manages to find a break in the guard he's created himself with his arms, and digs his fingers in, Titus shrieks, bucking, throwing his hands down to try and catch his, he doesn't succeed, and he manages to climb higher, digging his fingers into his ribcage.

"Puhuhuhuhuhuhuhrriiihihihii! Nohohohohhoho! Ahahahahahahaha!" The younger Power throws his head back, squirming from side to side, as fingers worm into his ribs, rubbing over the skin between each bone, and curling down around to get the back. Puriel knew how to break him with little exertion, he could happily sit there all night and torture him without strain, he was a very skilled older brother. "Gehehehehehet ohohohohoofff! Hahahahahahaha! Plehehehehehhahahahahase!"

"Aww, you said _'please'_," he moves the hand curled around his left side and claws into his belly, he howls, cackling with mad laughter as his older brother smiles down at him. "You have such good manners."

"AAhahahahahhaa! Nohhohohot thehehehehheerrehehehehe! Puuhhhuhuhuhuhuhrihhihihii!"

"Not here?" He moves his other hand down, digging the fingers into his lower belly, chuckling softly at the shrill shriek it draws forth. "Not your belly?" Titus shakes his head frantically, shrieking with laughter, trying to push his brother's hands away. "How about here, then?"

His eyes widen when the fingers move, and he feels them curl into his thighs, and squeals brightly when they dig in mercilessly. He kicks his feet, arching his back, his toes fan out as his brother reaches underneath to the underside and digs his fingers in there, wiggling his fingers in expertly and pinching with practiced knowledge. "NO! NOHOHOHOHOHO! NOHOHOAHAHAHAHAHAHAOHOHOOT THEHEHEHEEAAHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEEEHERE! PUUHUHUHUHUUAHAHAHAHAHAHAAUUHUUURI! NOHOHOHOOHOHOAOOAHAHHAHAHA!"

"They said you were being a grump," he curls his fingers inwards. "This doesn't seem like a grump to me."

"AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAAHAHAHA! PUHUHUHUURRIIIIII! NO! STOHHOOHOHOP! AHAHAHAHAHHAHHAEAEEEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! PLEHEHEHEHHHEEAAHAHAHAHAHASE!"

He pauses for a moment, and the younger Power pants for a breath, giggling madly. "Were you being a grump, Tussy?" He smiles as he shakes his head, giggling up at him, like a fledgling down, and it feels him with a warmth he hadn't felt in some time. He digs his fingers in slightly, and the younger Power shrieks softly, arching under him. "You weren't?" He shakes his head again. "So, they were lying to me?" Titus bites his lip, smiling like a little angel, and nods softly.

Puriel smiles softly. "I think _you're _lying." And he digs back in.

…

When the days get too bad, he gets too stiff, he retreats to his quiet place, that quiet place also just happens to be his older brother's bedroom. Puriel runs colder then most, and he has his sea snake, Shelby, thus his room is always on the warm side. He shimmies stiffly out of his tunic and climbs up onto the older Power's bed, stretching himself out as he lays his head against the pillows, the scent of his older brother help's sooth his inner tension and the warmth of the room slowly soothes his aches and pains.

Puriel doesn't always know he comes in here, he tries for the days he's working with his training squadron so he doesn't just happen upon him there, he doesn't want to worry him too much, just the right amount.

He sighs as the door opens though, training had ended early today due to a string of rather strong thunderstorms, they could be harsh trainers, but they weren't going to force a group of young angels to stand out in the middle of a lightning storm holding metal weapons.

The bed dips as someone sits on the edge, fingers rub over his head lightly. "Not feeling well, Tus?"

Shaking his head, he groans softly, everything aches, a dull throb, it's all too stiff and too tense, phantom pains that would always haunt him now, especially when the weather turns as dramatically as it had.

Fingers scratch down behind his ear lightly. "Do you want me to give you a massage?"

He nods stiffly, that sounds nice, that would be great. His hands are like magic, he knows what he's doing, to offer optimum comfort, he can make his tense and stiff muscles like putty under his fingers, and it's a feeling he welcomes whole heartedly.

"Okay, baby brother, let me get a few things, get the atmosphere nice and right, and I'll give you a nice massage."

Titus grunts softly, his head pressed deep into his brother's pillow, and the bed dips again as the older angel lifts himself up. He hears him move about the room, his wardrobe opens, he's changing, it had started downpouring while they were bringing everything inside. The glowing from the sea snake's tank dims slightly, the running water falls silent, until all he hears is the sound of the rain beating against the window, intermittent clashes of thunder mixed within. He hears the scratch of a match on the igniting paper, and a silent curse when it dies out, he's just going to use his fingers to light the candles instead, like he always does when the matches don't work. He hears the chatter of warm glowing embers being spread in a pan, the middle pieces set over them, and rags set over top of them, the lid closing it with a soft chime, to warm some damp rags. He hears him clear the bedside table, moving the lamp over to the other corner, he ignites it, it casts a warm glow around them, over that of the strong light in the tank. He sets the pan of warming rags on the other end of the table, closer, within reach when he wants them. He sets a few candles around them, lighting them, Lavender and Ylang Ylang candles, the aroma is calming to his frayed nerves and the soft glow of the flame doesn't make his head hurt when he opens his eyes. He watches his brother move for a moment, reaching into one of the cupboards over his workspace for a bottle of oil, he turns it to read the label and nods in approval, closing the cupboard as he turns. Their eyes meet and he smiles at him gently.

_Eucalyptus oil. _That's his oil, specifically, it's the one he uses when he comes to him for these sorts of things. It's an anti-inflammatory, it helps ease the stiff, cramped muscles. It also helps with his particular skin problems, with the ability to prevent and heal scar tissue. Its soothing, his brother knows how to use it well, he has a small bottle he uses when he makes his concoctions for him and the ones under their custody, but there's a larger bottle, that he always keeps full, that's just for him.

"Okay, we're nice and ready, let me climb up here." He nods, grunting softly as his older brother climbs up over him, straddling his waist, he rests lightly on his butt, leaving his top open for the taking. He hears him pull the stopper on the bottle of oil, shaking a bit of it into his left palm, he leans over and sets the bottle and lid on the side table. "You just relax, let me take care of the rest."

Titus nods lightly, closing his eyes as his brother's fingers curl to grasp the side of his neck, pressing gently on the muscles and tendons, kneading with his thumb and forefingers. Puriel always runs a bit on the colder side, but his hands are always warm, always, he sighs in content as he rubs his fingers in soothing circles over one of the raised scars around his neck. The fingers of his other hand curl around the other side of his neck, his thumbs rubbing soothingly up the sides of the base of his neck. Just the right pressure, he can feel his muscles relaxing under his soothing touch, he's never too rough, always just right.

He groans softly in comfort when he presses his fingers curl around his shoulders, thumbs digging into the muscles on either side of his neck, the fingers squeeze into his shoulders and the thumbs press in to the muscle, the motion slow and steady. He moves down his shoulders, squeezing and stretching them, pulling and pushing at the sore skin and muscle.

The older Power reaches for the bottle again, pouring a bit more into his palm, and rubs his hands together, pressing the heels of his hands alongside his spine, he kneads his way down, pressing into the muscles as he goes. He pauses midway, turning his fingers outwards, curling them down around his sides, he leans up, applying a bit more pressure there. Titus groans again, lifting slightly from the bed, his fingers curling into his brother's pillow.

Puriel looks up at him. "Too much?"

"No-ooooh, it's just fi—I—ine."

"Okay, tell me if I get too rough."

He nods, settling back against the pillow again, his fingers relaxing once more.

His hands rub back up his back, thumbs moving in slow soothing circles, firm, just the right amount of pressure, and he sighs deeply, feeling the tension roll away under his fingers. He works his way down to his lower back, rubbing the pads of his fingers in deeply, stretching the skin out, kneading into it gently. His fingers travel up his back again, back up to his shoulder. He digs his fingers into his shoulder, and he groans again, arching into the touch, he knows his older brother smiles at the action, looking down at him as he arcs into his hands.

"Does that feel good, baby brother?"

He groans softly, nodding sluggishly against his older brother's pillow, exhaling deeply as he rotates his shoulder, fingers curled lightly around his upper arm, and fingers curled firmly around his shoulder, he rotates his shoulder in small circles.

"Good, that's what I want to hear, just let my fingers and the beat of rain wash away the tension."

Titus nods again, sinking into the mattress, into the pillow.

He feels his brother lean over, and he opens his eyes just a bit, half lidded, watching as his older brother lifts the lid off the pan he set on the bedside table, steam billows upwards, those cloth strips are nice and warm, he picks one off the top, and the younger Power sighs in comfort when he lays the strip of fabric down over his lower back. He reaches for another, and lays it just above the first, lining them one after another up his back until he reaches his shoulders, then he drapes them over his shoulders. He leans forward, curling his fingers down around to the sides of his neck, rubbing deep soothing circles over the runes, working his way around slowly, to the base of his neck.

Puriel reaches over for another strip and curls it down around his neck, then he reaches up, rubbing at the back of his head softly. He leans over him, tilting over slightly, and smiles. "Tus, you still with me?"

He gets no response, the younger Power's eyes are closed, his mouth slightly ajar. He's sound asleep, completely ignorant to the world around him, and this is different, he's let his guard down, trusting in him to keep him safe while he does. Tus usually sleeps on a hair trigger, he'd wake at the slightest noise, but he's in a deep sleep, as he leans over and covers the pot again, it rattles slightly, and he merely snores softly and nuzzles languidly into his pillow. He's _sound _asleep.

Gingerly, he climbs off the younger Power the younger, reclining next to him on his king-sized bed.

Gently, he rubs at his head, smiling at the content sigh it elicits. "Sleep well, baby Power."

Eventually he ends up laying over top of him, crawling over as slow as a tortoise, and Puriel chuckles softly, letting the rags soak into his skin for a good couple minutes, waiting for the heat to fade before he removes them, soften up the skin, sooth the muscles even still. And, he watches him sleep, stroking a finger down the bridge of his nose. "That's it. You just relax."


	191. Getting One Over

It's a risky mission, and he knows that as he stands in the shadows of the elder's doorway, watching him hang his laundry in his wardrobe, he waits, patiently, for him to bend over in order to pick up another tunic. He's been hunting him down all week, waiting for that perfect moment to make his move, and he's sure he's found the perfect moment as he unassumingly hangs his tunics in his wardrobe, not noticing anyone standing in the doorway watching him, not expecting an attack to be on the horizon.

He waits until he's bent low, picking up one of his clean tunics, and that's when he makes his move. Bolting from his hiding spot, he runs into the elder Power's room, catapulting himself onto his back. He yells in surprise, jumping up into a standing position, dropping the tunic and hanger as he throws his hands back to grab at whoever jumped up on his back. He takes his moment from his surprise attack to dig his fingers into the elder's ribs, he shrieks, straightening up and tensing, and when he reaches back to try and grab the hands, he moves them down, under the reaching hands, digging into the lower ribs with much vigor.

The elder angel howls with laughter, spinning quickly, leaning forward, bending at the waist, trying to dislodge the other from his back, but he holds on tight, legs curled around his waist firmly.

He doesn't last very long, he gets a good couple of minutes in, before the elder finally manages to reach back, his fingers curling in the back of his tunic, yanking him forward, up over his head, and he yells as he tumbles forward, flipping over midfall, tumbling down on the elder's bed. He glares down at him, and he smiles innocently, attempting to appeal to his better natural, giggling softly as he rubs at his ribs, trying to rub away the remaining tingles. "Did you have your fun, you little pest?"

"Hahaha, I made you shriek!"

"Oh, laugh it up, you're going to get yours now, baby Power."

The younger angel giggles softly. "I missed you, big brother."

"I missed you too, little angel," he looms over him. "Give big brother a hug."

Sablo curls around the older Power, curling his arms around his neck securely, and the older Power curls his arms around him in turn, rubbing at his head softly, picking him up slightly to position him better for his revenge attack. He presses his cheek to the little one's pressing a kiss beside his ear and comes to rest their foreheads together. "I'm back now, my baby Power, I'm not going to leave again for quite some time. I know how my story ends and it does not end anytime soon."

Sablo sniffles softly, there's no room for tears now, they've moved passed them. "Please don't die again. I don't think I can handle losing you a second time."

"You're not the only one, Sablo." He kisses his nose softly. "No tears, baby brother, buck up. Everything's okay."

He giggles softly. "You're here and that's what makes everything okay."

"That's right, bambino, never forget that." He pulls back, straddling the younger Power's legs, and grins down at him. "Now its time for my revenge." They wrestle for a time for the younger's top, one trying to pull it off and the other trying to keep it on, the elder wins, he cheats, so he wins every time. He tugs the tunic up over the young Power's head and makes a show of folding it nicely, leaning over to set it on his bedside table. The young Power reaches up, curling his fingers into the Captain's tunic, his eyes wide with alarm. "Nis, what if something happens to me like that? I mean I was already taken and…and…you know. What if…What if…"

"They would never get the opportunity, I've grown quite attached to you, I'm afraid, they'd have to go through me, and I'm no easy opponent to win against. I would see myself on the end of another sword before I allowed them to take you away from us." He reaches up with his right hand, stroking his cheek lightly. "I know, bambi, I know. It'll never happen again. I won't let them take you from me again. It was a lucky snag, one that will never happen again, I've lost too many to allow it. And you, like I said, I'm quite attached, you're mine, I'm afraid, and I don't easily give up what's mine."

"I'm yours?"

"You're mine. Puri can say what he wants on the matter, but at the end of the day, you belong to me." He leans forward, pressing their foreheads together again, smiling down at him with playful cruelness. "Which also means you're mine to torture as much as I want, do you remember what I did to you the last time you thought you could get one over on me?"

The younger angel giggles lightly at the memory, nodding slightly.

"Good, good. So, you know what's about to happen." He lowers himself into position, laying over his legs, his fingers resting over his bare belly, his chin resting on the backs of his fingers. "Like this belly, though my favorite go-to is those ticklish little sides, seeing as you belong to me, this little belly belongs to me. I don't care what Puri says, it's mine, all mine, I just let him borrow it." He wiggles a finger into his belly lightly. "Say this is my belly."

Sablo giggles softly, biting his lip, shaking his head. It makes the older Power smile at the sight of it, at the stubbornness, and he wiggles another finger into the belly under his hands. "Oh, I'll get you to say it, don't you worry. I've perfected the ways of getting stubborn little angels to say what I want to hear." He shrieks softly, biting his lip once more, when he claws his left hand into his belly softly, digging in gently. Squirming under the older Power, giggling frantically despite his grip on his lip, he curls his fingers in the quilt under him. He knows trying to stop him only makes it worse for him, Nis could be worse then Puri, because he could torture you, or he could just play, and you never knew which one he would go with at the time until he had you right where he wanted you. "Say this is my belly, bambino."

"Nohohohoho! Nehehehever! Ahahahahhahaha Niihihihis ahahahahahahha! Myhyhyhy beheehheheheelly! Nohohohohot myhyhyhy beheheheelly!"

He chuckles softly, moving his fingers, digging the fingers of both hands into his lower belly, and the little angel shrieks, throwing his head back as he arches his back under him, falling into a fit of uproarious laughter. "Oh, ho, this little belly is might ticklish, isn't it?" He curls his fingers down around his sides, leaning down to press a kiss over his belly button. "All the better for me." He blows lightly on the belly button under him and smiles when the little angel he's captured shrieks softly, it mixes out into a soft squeal, and he feels him struggle to kick his legs under him. "Let's give this belly a bit of a tickle torture, shall we?"

Sablo shakes his head, shrieking shrilly when he takes a deep breath and rushes his head down, pressing his lips over the little belly button. Fingers curl in his hair, and it makes him smile slightly, he loves torturing his little angels, and blows out a massive raspberry over the ticklish little belly button.

Sablo squeals brightly. "EIEIEIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA! NO! NOHHOHOHOHO! NOT THOSE! NOOHHOHOHOT BEHHEHEHEHEHERRIES! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Not just berries, but button berries, those are the best." He takes another deep breath, burying his face into his belly, lips pressed over his belly button, his beard rubbing over his lower belly, its rather torturous, just as he knows it is. "EEIIEIEIEHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHA! AHAHAHAHAHHAAEEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEEAAHAAHAHAHAHA! EEIEEIEIAAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHA! NIHIHIHIHIEEIEIIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAA! NIHIHIHIS! NIHIHIHIIEIEIEIEAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHHOHOHOO!"

"This is what happens when you try and get me, you get berries," he presses his lips to the belly button again. "All the berries you deserve to get until your lesson is learned."

"EEIEIEIAAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA! HAHAHAAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! NOHOHOHO! NO! EIEIEIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! GET OFF! GEEHEHEHHEET OHOHOHOHOOFFFIEEIEIEIAIAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAAHAHAHAHHA AAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA BAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! EIEIEIEIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA! NIHIHIHIHIIEIEIIEIEAHAHAHAHAHHAA! NIS! NIHIHIHIS!"

He pulls back slightly, chuckling at the red-faced little angel he's teaching his lesson to (read: torturing). "Yes, bambino?"

"Nohohoho moohohohore! Nohohoho mooheheheore!"

"Oh, we've still got a way to go, so you better get comfortable, you'll be in stitches by the time I'm done with you." He turns his head slightly, pressing his lips to the palm of the little hand pressing to his head. "Let's get back to it." He takes a deep breath and slowly begins to lower his head again.

Sablo looses it, as he expects him to, his legs squirm under him, trying to find purchase, enough of it to push himself out of this containment, he merely adjusts his position and those feet are thoroughly trapped, without a hope of escape.

Hands press to his forehead, pushing with all their might. "NO! NOT AGAIN! NIS, NO! GET AWAY! STAY AWAY! NOHHOHO! NIHIHIS! NO MORE! NOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOREHEHEHEHE!" He arches his back when he touches down and blows his massive raspberry, and he takes that as his opportunity to wind his arms under him, curling them around his lower back. "EIEIEIEIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! EEIEIEIEIAIAHAAHAHAHAHAHHAHA AHAHHAHAHAHAHA! NO! DON'T! EIEIEIAIHAHAHAHAHAHHAA! AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAHA EIIEIEIEIEEIAEHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! NIIEIEIEIIAAIHAHAHAHAHAHHAA! NIHIHIHIS! TIIIIEIEEIEIHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! TICKLES! TIHIHIHIHICKLES! EEIEIEIEIAAIHAHAHAAHHAHA!"

"Say this my belly and I'll stop giving you berries."

Sablo shrieks with laughter, shaking his head frantically.

"You need a bit more convincing; I was hoping you'd say that."

"EIEIEIEAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! OKAHAHHAHAEHEHEIEIEIEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHA! OKAY! OKAHAHAHAHAY! HAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHHAAHHAHAHAA! IT'S YOUR BELLY! YOHOHHOHHOEEHEIEIEIAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA! YOHHOHOHOUR BEHEHEAHAHAHAHHAHAEHEHEHEHELLY! EIEIEIAAIAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA! NOT AGAIN! NOHOHOHO! I SAID IT! IHIHIHIHI SAHAHAHAHIAIHIHIHID IHIHIHIT! EIEIEIEAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH EHEHEIEEIEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! NIHIHIHIHIHISSSS!"

"This is my belly, right?"

"YEHEHEHEHESS!

"See, I told you I'd get you to say it." He's an angel of his word though. "No more berries, I'm an angel of my word, let's do some munchies."

"No! NO! Nihihis! NIS! Nohohoho! Plehehehheahahhahahase! I'm sohhohohorry!"

He goes ignored, as the Power leans to the side, and buries his face into his side. Sablo shrieks, throwing his head back, as the Captain nibbles on his side playfully, cackling with mad laughter. He squirms like a little worm, but the Captain has him well contained, his arms curled around his lower back.

"Aahahahahahhaa! Nihihihihis! Hahahahahahhaha! Ahahahahahahhahaha!" He shakes his head frantically, trying to cover his side with his arm, but the elder merely unwinds one of his arms from around him and curls his fingers around his wrist and pulls his arm away, munching down to his hip. "Ahahahahahahhaa! Hahahahahhaa! Stohhhohohohop! Nohhohohohoho muhuhuhuhunchiihhehehehhes! Ahahahahhahahaha! Hahahahahhaha!" When he's finished with that side, he releases his grip on the wrist, curls his arm back under him, and nibbles his way across his lower belly, he squeaks brightly, shrieking with laughter, as he makes his way over to his other side. Once more, he unwinds his arm, pulling his away by the wrist, and buries his face in once more. "Aahahhahahahha! Nihihihihihis! Chehehheeheiihihihhifff! Pleheehehheheheaahahahhase! I won't do it again! I wohhhohohohohohon't dohohhoho ihihihihit ahahahahgggahahahahain! Hahahahahahahahha Ahahahahhahahaha!"

He chuckles, rubbing his nose into the skin of his side. "Now, why don't I believe that?"

"I mihhihihihight! Ahahahahahahhaa! Nohohoho mohohohoore! Hahahahhaha ahahahahahah! Iihhihhihihit tihihihickles! NIS! Plehehehehhhahahahahhase! Ahahahahahahha haahahhahaha ahahahahahah! Stohohohohhop! NO MORE! Nohohoh moohohohore muhuhuhunchiehehhehees! Nihihhihihis! Plhehehehehheahhahhahhaase!"

"Well, since you said _'please'_, I was going to give those armpits some flutters, but since you said _'please' _I'll let you go."

Nisroc doesn't climb off him, he does climb upwards though, pressing their foreheads together. "You're adorable when you get like this, bambi."

Sablo giggles softly. "You're getting soft."

He narrows his eyes slightly. "I'm getting _what_?"

His eyes widen when he realizes what he's done. "Nothing!"

"No, no, what did you say?" He kisses his nose lightly. "You said that I'm getting _what_?"

"Nothing! I didn't say anything!"

"No, you said something, what was it, I'm getting _what_?"

He giggles harder. "Sohohoft."

"Oh, ho ho, now you're just asking for it." He leans upwards, crawling up slightly. "Let me show you how _'soft' _I've become."

Sablo shrieks, twisting as he curls his fingers around his wrists and raises his arms above his head, holding them there with his right hand, he reaches down with the left hand. "Now, you're getting armpit tickles."

"Nohohhohoho!" He shrieks with laughter when five fingers flutter over his left armpit, tugging at his arms desperately. "I tahahahaakeehehehe ihihihihit bahahahahack! I TAKE IT BACK!"

"Oh, its too late for that, you get two minutes of armpit tickles for each side now, because I'm so _'soft'_."

"Ahahahahahhahaha hahaahahahahhahahaha! Nohhohohohoo! Lehehhehhhehheet gohohohoho! Bahahahahaha ahahahahahhahahaha! Hahahaahahhahaha! Tihihihihihickles! TICKLES! Ahahahahhahahaha hahahhahahahahahaa ahahahahahaahhaahaaa! Nohohohoho mohohohhore!"

"One more minute and then we move over to the right."

"Ahahahahhahhahaha! Noohhohoho! Ahahahahahhaa hahahahahahhah! Gehehehehet ohohohhooff! Bahahahahhaa heheheahahahahahaeheheheheehe! Nohohoho fluuhuhuhuhutters! Ahahahahhahaha hahahahhahah aahahahahahhaa!"

Nisroc chuckles. "Now we move to the right."

"Nohohhohohoo! Aahahahahahhaaha hahahahah ahahaahahhaha! Gehehehehehehhet ohohohohout! Hahahahahhahaa hahahaahahah! Nohohohohohot thahahahahahahat! Nohohohot thahahhahahhaat! Ahahahahahahhaa ahahahahahaha ahhahahahahahha!"

"Should I give you some armpit berries?"

His eyes widen. "NO! NOHOHOHO!"

"I don't know, I mean I'm going _'soft'_, I need to step up my game a bit." He nods, curling both arms over his left arm, sinking down into position. "Let's get some berries in here."

Sablo shrieks, shaking his head frantically, tugging at his captive arm desperately. "NO! No! Not those! Not there! Nis! NIHIHIS!"

"I'll show you _'soft'_." He takes a deep breath and thrusts his head down, burying his face into the bare armpit.

Sablo throws his head back, squealing brightly when he finally blows out his raspberry. "EIEIIEEIEAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! NAHAHAHAHAHAHHA! NOHHOHOHOHOHOHO! NOHOHOT THEEHEHEHEHHERE! EIEIEIEAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA! NIHIHIIHIHIS! NEEIEIEIEIAHAHAHAHAHHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHOHO BEHEHEHEHHERRIES! EIEIEIIEAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHIHI TAHAHAHAHAAKE IHIHIHIT BAHAHAHHAACK! I TAKE IT BACK! NIS! NIIIEIEHEHAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA NIS! IHIHIHIHIIM SOHOHOHOHORRY! YOU'RE NOT GOING SOFT! NOHOHOHOHOHOT SOHOHOHOOHOOFT EEIIEEIIEIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA AHAHAHHAHHEHEHEHEIEIEIEIHEAHAHAHAHAHA!"

He pulls away, if only to move to the other side, Sablo squeals before he sinks in and he laughs softly. "Still think I'm going '_soft'_?"

He shakes his head desperately. "Noohohoho! Nohhohoho! Plehehehehease! Nohhohoo mohohohore! Plehehehehease, Niihihihis!"

The Captain turns his head slightly. "Give me a kiss, bambi." Sablo giggles leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Aww, now how can I say no to that?" He curls his fingers around his ribs and spins them around, Sablo collapses over him limply, pressing his cheek to his chest, his ear over his heart, listening to it beat steadily underneath him. "There, there, I'm done. You're okay." Fingers stroke through his hair lightly. "That was fun, thank you, I quite enjoyed that."

"Yohohour wehehehehelcohohome."

"Watch the sarcasm, baby Power," he tugs at his right ear lightly. "Or, we can go for round two."


	192. I Would Have Said Yes

"Sir, we have a new intake."

The Warden hums, waving them in as he fills out a parchment for the new prisoner they'd taken in, and they could wait a few extra moment for him to finish.

"Hey, Thaddy."

That catches him, he looks up from the parchment he's working on with wide eyes, meeting those of the prisoner he'd just _released _not only _two _days ago. Barbados smiles, waving a few fingers at him, and he waves a few back in return, pushing the parchment away, he leans back in his seat, crossing his arms, he raises an eyebrow. "Hello, _Barbados."_

"How's your day going?"

"Oh, just fine, thank you so much for asking. Do enlighten me," he tilts his head lightly, tapping his upper arm with the fingers of his right hand. "_What _are you doing back _here? _It's only been _two_ days since you were released."

"What can I say," the boy shrugs lightly. "I'm a creature of habit."

"What did you do?"

He shrugs again, this time a bit sheepishly, perhaps a tiny bit cautiously. "That's not important."

"It is if I say it is."

"It's really not."

Nodding, the Warden turns to his guard. "Marmaroth, what's his crime this time?"

"He stole documents from the Commander and gave them to the enemy. Luckily they were important."

"_Barbados!"_

The younger angel shrugs nervously, twiddling his fingers. "I told you it wasn't important."

"Mhm, why'd you do it?"

"Mmm." He shrugs again.

The Warden wags a finger at him. "No sir, shrugging doesn't cut it this time, what you did was extremely foolish, I want an actual answer."

"I….um…." he tucks one of braids back. "I wanted to be with you again."

"You wanted to be with me?"

He nods shyly, looking down to his feet, shuffling his boot against the floor lightly. "Yea."

"What about your guardian, hmm?"

"I..um…." he glances up at him. "I don't have one."

"I see, so you thought what, you _misbehave_, get sent back, and what?" He crosses his arms once more. "_I'd _take you in?"

Barbados cringes, as though he was having second thoughts about his plan, and he deflates slightly as he nods.

Thaddeus watches him for a long moment, tapping his arm lightly, and then he heaves a sigh. "What's your sentence?"

"One hundred and fifty days."

He nods, leaning forward in his chair, pointing a stern finger at him. "Alright, if you want me to take you in, I will, I'll talk to Michael about your sentence," he wags a finger when the younger angel smiles. "That _doesn't _mean you're off free. No, if I'm going to take you in, you're going to deal with _my _punishment. You go upstairs and stand in the corner."

Barbados's eyes widen. "What!"

The Warden points up, towards his quarters. "You want me to be your guardian, I'll be your guardian, I'll deal with this the same way I'd deal with any of my charges. Go, mister."

"But I—"

He stands from his chair and the boy jumps back. _"Go." _Both Warden and guard watch as the young offender turns tail and bolts from the office, they hear his boots echoing up the stairs and the door to the Warden's quarters crash open.

Thaddeus shakes his head, rubbing at his beard lightly, and steps out from behind his desk. He'll finish the paperwork later, he has to wait for documents from the Infirmary anyway, might as well do something productive.

He pats the guard on the arm as he passes him. "Mar, tell Saba he's in charge while I'm away."

"Yes, sir."

"And, make sure Jahoel stays down here with him, I have something private to attend to when I get back."

"Of course, sir."

Michael doesn't take much convincing when he tells him the reasoning behind the poor decision to lift his sentence, so long as he keeps the boy in line, Thaddeus assures him that he will.

Barbados is waiting for him in the corner, just as he had told him to be, and he sighs, closing the door behind him, he walks to the vanity, rubbing at his cheek lightly, and takes hold of the hair brush. He situates himself on the edge of his bed and sighs again. "Come here, Barbados."

The boy turns just as he's told to, eyes widening at the hairbrush he holds in his hand, and points to it slightly. "Are you…?"

"I am."

"I don't think—"

"That's right, you didn't think, you don't have to be my prisoner to be under my care, if you wanted me to take you in, you could have just asked. I would have said _'yes'_." He tugs him around to stand before him. "Bare yourself."

"Do I really—"

"Do as you're told."

He nods quickly, reaching up to undo the belt around his waist, tugging his trousers down slightly. He looks up to the Warden for more direction, and the older angel tugs him around by the arm, pulling down over his knee. He tenses, preparing himself for it, when he feels the hard end of the brush press against his bare cheek, he curls his fingers around the Warden's ankle, closing his eyes tightly when the brush pulls back.

The boy yells, kicking out, when he throws the brush back around sharply, a sharp, firm _thwap _echoes around the room. He scrambles, kicking and pushing against the older angel's lap, anything to get away from it, as it comes down again and again, burning his bottom harshly.

"Ow! Ow Thadd! Thaddy, stop!"

"Hold still, Barbados, or I'll get the belt."

"No! NO! I don—OWIE—want that!"

"Then, hold still."

He nods, it's a struggle, as the brush starts rotating between his left and right cheek, but he holds himself steady. It does nothing to silence his howls though, his wails echo just as loudly as the smacks do, and they soon turn to gut wrenching sobs, as his kicking starts up again. His bottom burns like nothing else, it's on fire, it burns, he wants it to stop.

"Ooooowwwiieeee! I'm s—s—sorry!"

"Are you _ever _going to do that again?"

"N—N—Nooo!"

He gets on last, hard, wallop, and he jumps, howling in pain. But the hairbrush disappears after that, it's set aside, and the Warden helps him to his feet. He sniffles, sobbing into his hands as large warm hands help pull up his trousers, unlooping the belt from around his waist, he sets that aside as well, and he's tugged around, sobbing form and all, down into the Warden's lap.

Barbados curls around the Warden, sobbing into his shoulder, and fingers scratch at his head, between his braids, soothingly, he whispers in his ear softly.

"I'm s—sorry, Thaddy! I—I'm sorry!"

"I know, Ados, I know you are, hush now, it's alright." He curls an arm under the little angel's knees, and stands from the edge of the bed, turns, and climbs up on his knees. He sets the little angel down first, and lays next to him. Barbados crawls over, collapsing over top of him, and he pulls him around, laying over his chest and resumes scratching at his head. "There, there, we're done. You're forgiven. Everything's okay."

"K—K—Keepin' m—me?"

"Yes, I'm keeping you, you'll stay here with me." He hums, closing his eyes, pulling the younger angel closer. "Now, let's take a nap."

"D—Don't you have paperwork to do?"

Thaddeus huffs softly, wiggling his fingers into his left side, and the boy shrieks softly, wiggling against him. "Watch it mister, or I'll have to punish you again."


	193. Look After You

They had starved themselves to deaths door, one more week like they had been going, and they would have followed him to his untimely afterlife. Part him, a sad part, wonders if that had been their intent, he knew they relied on him, but he didn't think it had been that much, it was concerning. The Healer had come to look them over while they napped, the day after his return, and frowned the entire time. Their muscles had degraded, eating themselves in the wake of their starvation, and needed to be built back up. They were put on a strict diet, one that they struggled with at first, but after the first week, it was becoming a bit easier for them.

It broke his heart watching them struggle to walk.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, knees spread slightly, arms outstretched for the young angel shakily taking step after step towards him, he was holding most of his weight, but Puriel was holding him up just in case.

"Come on, Pauly, just a bit more, you can do it." He beckoned him on with his fingers, flexing them lightly, smiling at him encouragingly, speaking praise after praise, watching the weak third year slowly make his way across the threshold of the room with small steps, shaky, sweat beading around his forehead. "That's it bambino, you're almost there, come to papa, you're doing great. Just a few more steps." His oldest charge had called him _'papa'_ three nights previous, after a frightful nightmare, as he clung to his desperately, as though he might disappear if he let go, and that's who he'd been since then, he was no longer just _'Nis'_, now he was _'papa'_, and it made his heart sore to hear him say it.

Paul reaches out for him, with the hand not clutching at the medic's shoulder, his fingers flexing demandingly. "Papa, papa."

"I am right here, come to papa, just a bit more and you're there, I've got a big hug waiting for you. Papa's going to give you a big hug. You just have a few more steps. Come on, bambino, you can do it."

"Papa," he finally comes close enough that he can curl his fingers around his middle, Puriel lets the boy go, but hovers behind him just on the off chance he collapsed. He helps guide the young angel around, settling him on his thigh, and curls his arms around him for that great big hug he promised. Paul curls around him, worn out from his excursion, mumbling into his neck incoherently. "Good boy, very good, you did brilliantly, bambino."

The young angel rubs his cheek against his shoulder. "Papa."

"That's right, papa's got you, you did great." He rubs their cheeks together and turns slightly, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. "Here's your great big hug. You earned it. Papa is so proud of you."

"Love you, papa." Paul sighs sleepily, rubbing his cheek against his, smiling at the feeling of his beard scratching against the smooth skin of his cheek. "Love you."

"Papa loves you too, bambino, very much." He kisses his head again. "Don't fall asleep yet, baby boy, it's supper time after this." He helps the little angel around, laying him next to him, and turns to the youngest, reaching over, he pokes around his belly, smiling when he giggles softly. "Your turn, little lamb."

"No, papa, comfy." He continues poking his belly, and he giggles harder, reaching for his finger weakly. "Papa! Tickles!"

"If you don't get up and do your walking, papa's going to keep poking this ticklish little belly, until it drives you crazy."

Sasha giggles harder when he pokes down around his side. "Okay, papa, okay! I'll do it! No more tickles!"

"That's my boy."

Thaddeus chuckles as he helps the youngest of their little gang out of the bed, holding him up as they slowly make their way to the doorway, Nisroc resumes his position, knees slightly spread, arms outstretched, waiting patiently for his youngest boy. Sasha holds onto Thaddeus, clutching at his hand, as the Warden helps guide him forward, whispering words of encouragement in his ear as he takes one small step after another. His legs shake slightly, with each wobbly step, and he flexes his fingers encouragingly. "Come on, little lamb, you can do it, come to papa." He stumbles slightly but Thaddeus catches him. "Careful now, easy does it, I'm not going anywhere."

"Papa," the little angel reaches out for him with his free hand, flexing his fingers much like his older brother had, they're both rather clingy at the moment, but he doesn't mind, he wiggles his fingers lightly. "Come here, come to papa, you're almost there, just a few more steps."

"Want you, papa." He lets go of the Warden's hand in favor of using it to reach forward. "Papa. Papa." Thaddeus curls his hands around his waist as he walks forward shakily, keeping him from falling over.

"Slow down, little lamb, papa's not going anywhere, nice slow steps, that's it, nice and easy." Once he's within reach, he curls his fingers around his waist, helping him step forward, drawing him down into his lap. "There you are, see, you made it to papa. You did so good, papa is so proud."

Sasha cuddles closer, smiling in content, curling his fingers in his tunic. "Papa."

"Papa's got you, little lamb, papa's got you all wrapped up."

They both look up as someone opens the door, Puriel smiles at them as he enters, carrying a tray of food, two plates, two bowls, and two glasses. "Supper is served; chicken and potatoes, fruit salad, and large cool glasses of milk."

…

_He's so still. His eyes are closed. He's cold to the touch. Laying there on that board. He looks like he's sleeping, but there's no rise and fall of his chest, it's still in death, no heartbeat, no thrumming of grace. Just silent. _

_He watches as the others lift the board up, resting it on their shoulders, Sasha grabs his hand tightly, he looks down at it. The other Powers lead the way, carrying their fallen Captain with them, and they follow after, slowly, between the parted crowd. Flowers are underfoot, thrown in their path, a meaningful send off. The Archangels are standing shoulder to shoulder on the elevated platform above the pyre, the Morningstar sets his hand on the Commander's shoulder, squeezing softly, and Sasha's grip on his hand tightens. _

_The Power slide the board they carry over the pyre's platform, sliding it in place, and back up, the come to surround them, hiding them both from the crowd of onlookers, watching as the Commander steps forward. His mouth moves but he can't hear what he's saying, his ears are ringing, as he stares at the still form on the pyre, urging him to get up, sit up, move, wake up, wake up, wake up. Don't leave us. You were supposed to watch us grow up. You aren't supposed to leave yet. But he doesn't move, and the archangel lights the torch, touching it to the pyre, and the flames consume it. He presses his hand over his nose and mouth, the balled sleeve in his fist still smells like him, it brings some semblance of comfort, but only just. Sasha breaths a soft sigh, turning to hide in his side, and he curls his arm around him in solitude, watching the pyre burn with tears gathering in his eyes, he's not going to wake up, he's not coming ba—_**Paul, Paul wake up. Pauly, wake up bambino, follow papa's voice, come to papa.**

He wakes with a start, his cheeks warm and slick, tears flowing down his cheeks as he heaves a sob so harsh it causes his shoulders to quake. Hands curl around his cheeks, fingers wiping away the tear tracks, and he blinks a few times to clear his vision, staring up into those concerned blue eyes. "_Papa!"_

Throwing himself around, he tumbles over top of the older angel, clutching at his tunic desperately as he sobs into his chest. Arms curl around him, a warm hand curls around the side of his head, pressing him close, he can hear the beating heart, the grace buzzing under his skin, a thumb strokes over his cheek.

"It's okay, bambino, papa's here. Papa's got you. It was just a dream. Just a bad dream."

"Papa! Don't go! Don't leave me! Don't go papa!"

"Ssshh, it's okay, papa's not going anywhere. I've got you. Papa's here and he's not going anywhere."

"Papa, promise!" Paul looks up at him, the hand curled around the side of his head curls over his cheek. "Promise you won't let me!"

"Cross my heart." He leans forward pressing a kiss to his forehead, before guiding him back down into the laying position. "Hush now, bambino, papa's got you. Go back to sleep. You need your rest."


	194. The Aftermath

He sighs, watching the young angel sleep peacefully, it's a drugged sleep, he's on a number of medicines at the moment, and leans forward to stroke stray curls from his face, smiling slightly when he leans into the touch lightly.

It had been fourteen days, thirteen nights, since he found him locked in one of those godforsaken cages, he didn't remember what they were for very clearly, but he knows it was nothing good. It had been seven days, six nights, since he had to cut him down from hanging in one of the back cells, only happened upon by accident, one of the new guards getting lost in the twists and turns that was the Prisons floor plan had been the one to come across him, hanging limply from the high bar of the gate doorframe. It wasn't the first attempt that had occurred in this place, and he knew that it wouldn't be the last, but for it to hit so close to home hurt him in ways he hadn't experienced before. They'd struggled to hold him up, lessen the cinching around his neck, and his yells for aid that had attracted the others. One of them had the foresight to make him aware of the situation, and he'd run with them to the unfolding scene, watching for a moment as a number of guards tried to hold him straight, to keep from pulling any which way, to keep it from inhibiting airflow.

It had been him who climbed up the frame, sawing through the thick rope with the dagger he kept on his hip, watching as the boy fell limply, like a dropped rag doll, into the arms of the guards under him. He sent two off to inform the Healer, as they set him on the floor, his body limp in their hold, feeling for a pulse, any sign that he was still breathing. If one held their ear above the boy's mouth, centimeters from touching his lips, one could hear the soft wheeze of oxygen struggling to come and go, his chest barely rose and fell, just a slight twitch really, but it was something.

The Healer had arrived five minutes later, rushing forward, pushing through the crowd of gathered guards, kneeling behind the boy, he examined him quickly, pressing his fingers to his throat, frowning deeply as he felt around for the damage. Nothing felt torn, nothing felt broken, which was a positive in this extreme negative.

He nodded when the Warden inquired about moving him, leaning back as the younger angel gathered the boy up into his arms, frowning as he hung limply from the Warden's arm, parting the crowd with a sharp order, following behind as the young Warden carried the boy forward, towards the end of the hall, turning the corner, down that hall, and around that corner at the end, turning for the stairs that led up to his quarters. He stood back as he set him down on the bed lightly, shimmying him out of his trousers and undergarment, the boy had soiled them after the first few moments of him hanging there, and stepped forward to continue examining him while the Warden moved to the wardrobe to fetch a new pair of garments for him.

There was a heavy cloud that fell over the structure after that.

And now, here he sat, at his bedside, watching him wheeze in and out, his chest rise and fall slowly. His windpipe had been bruised, it was slightly inflamed, hence the wheezing, but nothing was broken, which was a blessing in disguise.

He slides his hand down the side of the bed, sliding it under the little hand, and curls his fingers around it as he lifts it up, pressing his lips to the smooth knuckles tenderly. "It wasn't your fault, Ados. It wasn't."

An ambush on the squadron that had been sent to the front had left them in pieces, out of the twenty men who had gone, only six returned, and Barbados had been blamed. The documents he had given away weren't important, merely lists of supplies that were needed and the such, nothing important, but no one else knew that. They hadn't the need to know. And, they had blamed the boy, the abuse had started small, and then ended up with him locked in a cage for twelve hours, an extremely claustrophobic child locked in a tiny cage wouldn't have any positive outcomes. He chided himself mentally for not noticing the oddness in his disappearance, it wasn't uncommon for the boy to disappear throughout the day, but he always came to check in, and he hadn't, but he'd thought nothing of it, assuming the boy had merely forgotten, nothing to worry about, it happened to the best of them.

How wrong he had been.

"The documents you gave away weren't important. Nothing but a fancy grocery list. What happened wasn't your fault, Ados, it wasn't. It was just a coincidence." He presses his lips back to the small knuckles. "It's okay. You're going to be okay. I'm here, little one, I'm right here. I'm not leaving you. I'm here. I've got you." He smiles slightly when the little fingers curl just a tad tighter around his, just a small amount of pressure, but it's a milestone. "That's it, little guy, I'm here, I'm right here."

His eyes flutter softly, fluttering open slightly, and he smiles down at him, kissing his knuckles again. "Hey, little guy."

"K…ill….ed….th….them…..a….all."

"Hey, hey, no talking, remember." He leans over, touching a finger to the boys lips. "You'll aggravate your throat injuries." The boy frowns, but nods, and points at his chest. "It was not your fault, I know it seems that way, but it wasn't." He leans forward, caressing his cheek lightly. "Those documents you gave away?" The boy nods, staring up at him with large cloudy eyes. "They were nothing more then lists of supplies. Nothing important. Michael would never leave those sorts of documents out where just anyone could touch them."

Barbados stares up at him with wide eyes and his heart breaks just a bit for him, oh, how much he had suffered, and for nothing. Tears will in those big eyes, and his face begins to screw up, it makes his throat hurt, but he breaths a sob anyway.

Thaddeus's eyes widen, and he jumps forward. "Oh, no, no, don't cry." He sits himself on the edge of the bed, reaching around to curl his fingers around his middle, pulling him around to rest in his lap. "No, no, it's okay. Sshhh, sshhh." He tucks the poor boy under his chin, stroking at the curls on the back of his head, humming softly deep in his chest a soothing tune. "You're okay, it's okay, hush, little one."

Barbados curls around him, clutching at his tunic tightly, crying and wheezing into his chest. "Oh, my poor little Ados, how you've suffered, and it was all for nothing." He presses a kiss to the side of his head. "I'm going to make it all better, don't you worry, everything's going to be okay." He reaches forward, bending slightly, for the vials on his bedside table. Carefully, he uncaps the cork with his teeth, and spits the cap out over his shoulder, he leans forward, holding the vial up to the little angel's lips. "Hear, drink this, little guy, it'll help you feel better."

The boy coughs weakly, curling his lips around the top, gulping as he swallows the potion, it goes down harshly, and he whines at the pain it brings.

Leaning forward once more, the Warden sets the empty vial on the bedside table and begins stroking his curls down. "Hush, little one, let the medicine help. It'll make you feel all better again."

Barbados yawns silently, nuzzling closer, and he carefully kicks his boots off, turning them around in the bed, he himself resting back against the pillows and the boy resting comfortably back against his chest.

He strokes his cheek lightly. "That's it, let it take hold, don't fight it. There you go, get some sleep, little one, I'm not going anywhere."

…

He sits behind his desk, one arm outstretched, beating his fingers against the desk top lightly. His other arm is curled around his boy's lower back. Barbados is fast asleep, and he's a deep sleeper, he wouldn't wake for anything but an explosion, straddling his waist, resting fully on his lap, his cheek pressing to his left chest. He still wheezes softly, but it's not as pronounced as it was before, his windpipe is still bruised, he's still on a talking restriction, and he's still pretty medicated, leaving him sleeping most of the time, it was better that way.

"So, it was you two who stuffed _my _boy into a cage."

The two guards standing before him shiver slightly at the ice in his tone, it was only the boy sleeping in his lap that kept him from climbing to his feet, maybe throw a few punches, knock a couple of heads around, he smiled internally, apparently he made a nice bed.

"Sir….Please…" The one on the right attempts to come to their defense, raising her hands placatingly, attempting to appeal to his better side, to his nonvengeful side. It was out at the moment, it may be back later, who knows. "We didn't know _he _was yours."

"Oh, so you're telling me, had you known you wouldn't have shoved him in that cage and left him there to rot. _That _fact is what would have stopped you. Not the fact that its immoral and against what you are meant to stand for." His expression darkens. "_No_. Knowing he was your _boss's _kid is what made it wrong."

"Please, the traitor deserved it, he caused the deaths of plenty a good men. You should have left him there."

He turns his attention to the other. "Azbogah, your greatest fear is the darkness, you attacked a minor unprovoked. How about I lock you down in Solitary, where it used to be, leave you down there for twelve hours. With no one down there, the only light there would be is from the escort that takes you down there, don't think that _anyone _would hesitate to disobey my command."

"You.." the guard pales slightly. "You wouldn't…"

"Oh, and why not?" He leans forward slightly, careful not to jostle the sleeping boy, and glares at him harshly. "Because it's _immoral _and _wrong_?" He leans back again, rubbing his fingers through the boys curls when he stirs lightly, he sighs, rubbing his cheek over his breast, and falls back down. "What would you know about that?"

"But, sir, that's different, he—"

"Had _nothing _to do with what happened. It was a tragic coincidence, and that's all, nothing more."

"He gave over documents—"

"Of supplies."

Azbogah blinks. "What?"

"They were supply lists. What needed filled. Inventory documents." He returns to beating his fingers against the desk top. "Nothing of importance."

The other guard, Amitiel, curls her hand around her mouth, as if that was what made it wrong.

"It doesn't matter _what _sort of documents were given over, or what the consequences of those actions are, it's _not_ in your place to punish for it, especially so cruelly. What you did was unjustified. You are here to protect and serve, not to rain down consequences." He presses his free hand to the side of his chest the little angel isn't resting against. "Punishing _my _prisoners is _my _right, and _my _right _alone_. I give permission to the guards I deem trustworthy enough with that power, myself, it is not given freely."

The Warden presses a finger to his desk. "Your keys, if you please."

Azbogah and Amitiel back up another step, reaching back to curl their fingers around their keys, this was their second assignment, they'd been moved from their first, this was their second chance. "Sir, plea—"

"I have no room for you two in my Prison, I have no patience for your thoughtless behavior, I have no need for your services." He taps his finger to his desk. "So, I need your keys returned. I will be informing your captain on your behavior, and seeing how it's not _my _place, I will leave it up to Titus to see you punished appropriately." Thaddeus leans forward again, curling his free hand around the back of the boy's head. "But, if it _were _up to me, I'd lock you two down in the hole and loose the key for, I don't know, a week." The Warden shrugs lightly. "Or, until I remembered where I put it." He leans back again, stroking the back of the boy's head, and nods to the door. "Get out of my Prison."

…

He started seeing Akriel after the first week of his recovery, he couldn't talk because of his restriction, but he had a journal, he wrote everything in his journal, he wrote about everything and anything. Akriel would read his entry and write back, it was how they had their session, because he couldn't talk, and even if he did, he wouldn't want to, so writing made it easier for them all.

Akriel said it would help, and it did, he liked writing in his journal.

Thaddeus had asked how he could help too, and he'd asked him just to hold him, so he did, every chance he had.

So, here he lay, stretched out between the Warden's legs, stretching up over his stomach, writing in his journal, as the elder angel read a book over his head. He kicks his feet slightly, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he scribbles away.

"It's getting near bedtime."

He hums. "Just a little bit longer, Thaddy?"

Thaddeus chuckles softly, his chest rumbles under him, and he leans forward to kiss the top of his head. "Just a bit longer."

…


	195. You Found Me

He screams, when _he_ comes around the corner, dropping the two bowls of stew in his hands. The ceramic bowls shatter upon impact. He stumbles back, away from him, because it's impossible for him to be there. _Impossible. _He was the one who had given them his ceremonial clothes, watched them clean him up and dress him, he was the one who did his hair up. He was there when they walked him down to the pyre, he watched them set him on top of it, _he_ was the one who had _lit_ the torch. He'd watched the flames _devour _him, he'd watched until there was nothing left but ash, he watched it all happen.

He was there!

It was _impossible _for him to be standing there.

"You're…. You're…. _You're…." _He stumbles back a step, nearly slipping in the spilled stew, and catches himself with the wooden countertop, his hand singes the wood. "I saw…... I watched…. I was _there_!"

"Mal, it's okay, I can explain." He jumps back, he can feel steam rising off his skin, when he reaches out for him. "Mal, you need to calm down, you're going to light up."

"You're…..I….You're…"

"Mal, I can explain." He has no where else to go, he's trapped, but those hands that curl around his upper arms are warm, not cold with death, they're warm and strong. The chest he's pulled into is just as warm, it's firm, strong, fingers press his head to the chest, over the heart cavity, and he hears the steady beat of a strong heart pounding away under his ear, the hum of grace under his skin, it's not silent, like it had been when he'd pressed his ear to it before, it alive with sound. "But, you need to calm down first, or you're going to start burning."

"What….But…..How…."

"Calm down first, Mal."

"How can I calm down!" Hasmal pushes against him, but his arms are trapping him, he's caught against his older brother's chest. "You were _dead_!" He pushes harder but he's no match for the older Power's strength. "I _lit _the torch! I _watched _you _burn_!" He manages to push away only slightly, still trapped in his brothers arms, but able to look up at him, with wide, shocked eyes. "_How!"_

The Captain sighs. "Father and His Brothers. That was not how my story ended. So, they brought me back."

"They brought…Just like that?"

He nods. "Just like that."

"How _long_!"

Nisroc sighs again. "Maybe a couple of hours. I was taking care of Paul and Sasha, but they're sleeping now, so I came to get a bite to eat."

"So….So, you're back?" Hasmal curls his fingers in the baggy tunic he wears. "You're back for good?"

He nods lightly. "I'm not going anywhere."

Hasmal smiles up at him, and he returns the smile in turn, and pushes himself forward. The older angel takes a step back at the sudden surge forward, curling his arms around him in kind, holding him close to him. The younger angel presses himself as close as he can manage, holding onto him as though his life was dependent on it, he feels his skin heat up, and a hand rubs down the back of his head. He loses control when his emotions get the best of him.

"It's okay, Mal, tone it down, simmer it out." He nods, inhaling deeply, letting fingers rubbing at the back of his neck calm him down, and the heat fades. "That's it, firefly."

"Nis, you have to help him!" He pulls away, he's comfortable, he wants those arms to hold him forever, but he's a good little brother. "You have to help Hani!"

"Hani, what's wrong with Hani?"

He quirks an eyebrow. "Nis, you _died_."

"Point, let's get some bowls of stew and we'll go check on him." They'll clean the mess up later, he has things he needs to tend to now, and tend to them he would. Hasmal nods, hanging onto his sleeve as he guides them both forward, reaching for the cupboard above the counter for three bowls, and scoops up a hefty serving of his stew for all three of them. He passes one bowl over to the fire starter, and takes two in his own hands, nodding for him to lead the way.

Hasmal nods, scooping a spoonful of stew into his mouth as he turns for the hall, humming in delight, he would have missed his brother's cooking. He leads him down the hall towards their room, where Haniel had retreated to after the procession and where he had remained, Hasmal has managed to force him out of bed to bath, he's been able to get him to eat (read: forcing him to eat), but it was getting harder and harder to keep going. He, himself, was exhausted. He was too busy taking care of his older brother to worry about his own dwindling health, he could push through, he always did.

He turns the corner, heading to Haniel's side of the bed, and their older brother clears his throat, bringing him to turn to look at him, Nisroc nods to his side of the bed and holds out one of the bowls. "Go, your side, mister. Don't think I didn't see those bags under your eyes, you climb into your side, I'll take care of him." His firefly nods, crossing around to his side of the bed, climbing in carefully with his two bowls of stew, cradling them in his lap lightly as he makes himself comfortable against his pillows.

Shaking his head fondly, Nisroc steps up to his little fox's side, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. Reaching down with his free hand, he pokes him in the nose lightly. "Hani, wake up, little fox. It's time for supper."

"Mmmm….Not hungry, Nis…" He smiles as the younger Power grows still, eyes shooting open, he jumps up and around, opening his mouth to shout something. He takes that as his opportunity to shove a spoon full of stew into his mouth.

Haniel grunts softly, closing his mouth to chew, staring up at him with wide awed eyes as he swallows his bite of stew. He opens his mouth again, surely to say something, and he narrows his eyes slightly when the spoon is pushed back in.

"Eat first, then we can talk." Nisroc holds up the spoon again, and this time he leans in for the bite, they'd talk once he finished his bowl of stew. "Good, little fox."

Haniel smiles at the praise, and coming from his big brother, the one he thought he'd never hear it from again, and opens his mouth for another bite. He stares at the oldest Power, his Captain, his big brother, with wide eyes, chewing on his mouthful of delicious stew, he doesn't want to take his eyes off of him, what if he does, and he disappears, this is all some sort of cruel trick of the mind.

He holds out the spoon to him. "Open up, little one." He does as he's told and takes the spoonful of stew, chewing it slowly, and swallowing, opening for the next. "I'm really here, baby brother, I'm as real as you are."

The young Power blinks, smiling again, he loved it when it seemed as though his older brother read his mind. It was the best feeling. It meant that he knew him that well to know what was on his mind. He could read him like a book.

"I'm back, baby fox, I'm back and I'm not leaving again." He holds out the spoon full of stew. "Not for a very long time."

"You died, Nis. You left me." He ducks around the next spoonful, and his older brother sighs, lowering it back to the bowl. "You were _gone_."

"I know, little fox, I didn't want to. I fought as hard as I could." He leans over, setting the almost finished bowl of stew on the bedside table, and leans over to rest his elbows on his knees. "I didn't mean to leave you, I would never do so willingly, I'm sorry that I did."

Haniel swallows deeply, huddling against his pillow. "You're really here?" He leans forward slightly. "Here to stay?"

"I'm not going anywhere, baby fox."

The younger Power smiles again, scooting over to the edge of the bed, he pats the spot between him and their little brother, Hasmal looks up midbite and smiles before turning back to his meal. Nisroc smiles at him, shaking his head fondly, and turns, crawling up to settle himself between the two of them. His arm is lifted slightly, the redheaded little fox cuddles up underneath it, and the other littler angel on his other side leans against his arm until he lifts it, letting him sidle up close to rest against his side, completely full, and ready for a nice rest.

He smiles down at them both, hugging them closer, and kisses the top of their heads. "Get some sleep, little ones, I'll be here when you wake up."


	196. The Purple Man

Puriel screams when a bucket full of purple paint falls over his head, all he'd done was open his bedroom door, he yelps, the bucket falling over his head, and tenses, raising his arms slowly, curling his fingers around the edge of the bucket, he lifts it up, leaning over to set it on the lid to his tank, and reaches up to rub the paint off his face.

He turns at the sound of the laughter.

His young _'charge'_. Of course. Nisroc had always said that he spent way too much time with Haniel.

The little sneak bends forward, arms wrapped around his belly, as he laughs himself red in the face. "You should have seen your face!" He chokes on a cackle. "You _screamed _like a girl!"

"_Why you little—" _He jumps forward and the boy shrieks, jumping back, out of his reach, he stumbles around in his rush and bolts down the hall, the medic close on his heel, the boy may be younger, but he was faster, and Paul shrieked again, when arms caught him around the waist and he was yanked up off his feet. He scrambles in his capturers arms, kicking and throwing his arms about, by they hold true, and he struggles harder as they turn around, heading back for the medic's room. "I'm going to make you rue the day you were born, kid."

The youngling falls still, hanging from his arms like an overgrown feline, he crosses his arms lightly and smirks, looking up at the purple covered Power. "Worth it."

"Oh, was it?" He turns back into his room, kicking the door closed behind him, he turns to his bed, tossing the boy up over it. Paul laughs softly, flipping over to look up at him, bracing his hands and feet against the Power as he slowly lowers himself over top of him. He shrieks in surprise when fingers dig into the underside of his thighs, and kicks his legs out, trying to kick the fingers off, the Power chuckles, settling between his legs, digging up underneath, trapping him in place with his elbows. "Still worth it?"

"Ahahahahhahahahahaha! Yehehehehehehehaahahhahhahaaasss! Yohohhohohohour fahahahahhaace!"

"You're going to regret dumping paint all over me."

"Yohohhohouuhuhuhuh dohohohoon't scahahahahahahare meheheheheehe!"

"Oh, I don't?" He pulls his fingers out from under his thighs, and instead uses them to tug the boys tunic up slightly. "Let me show you how fearsome I can be."

Paul's eyes widen when he takes a deep breath and thrusts his head down, lips press under his belly button for a moment and he tenses, catching his breath and holding it, watching with wide horrified eyes. Papa does this all the time, he thinks its so funny, he _hates _it (though secretly he doesn't think it's too bad—he loves to laugh after all).

A brief moment passes.

"EEIEIIEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA! NOHOHOHOHO! EEIEIEIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STIHIHHHILHIHIHIHHIHILL WOHOHOHOORTH IHIHIHIT! EEIEIEIHEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA AHAAHAHAHHAAH! YOHOHOHOHOUR GEEHEHEHEHEHEHETTING PAHAHAHAHAIHIHIHIIINT OHOHOHOHON MEHEHEHEHE!"

"Well, I'm sorry, _someone _decided to cover me in it."

"Wait! No!" He shoves at the medic's head desperately. "EIEIEIHAHHAHEHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHIHIHIM NOHOHOHOHOT SOHOHHOHORRRYYYY! EEIEIEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAH! YOHOHOHOUR FAHHAAHHAACE! WOHOHOHORTH IIHIHIHITTTTIEIEIEIEIEIAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAHA AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHA! PUHUHUHURIRIIHIHIHIHI!"

"I'm _covered _in paint, you little sneak." He pulls back, wiggling his fingers into the boy's lower belly, Paul shrieks, arching his back. "Now I have to mop my floor." Paul cackles brightly, arching his back and squirming from side to side, trying to throw his fingers off. "And, I _just _got out of the bath."

"Hahahahahhaa! Puuhuuhuhuhuhurihihihi! Yohohhouhuhuhu lohohohhook sohohhoho prehehehhehetty!." The boy reaches up to point at him. "It mahahahahahatatatchehehhehehhes yohhohohohhour eheheheyehehehehes!"

He raises his eyebrows, reaching up quickly to dig his fingers into the exposed armpit, Paul shrieks again, arching his chest, thrusting his arm back down. "_That's _all you have to say?" He digs into his lower belly with his other hand again, the boy howls with laughter, trying to kick his legs desperately, he plants his heels into the bed and pushes with all he's worth. Puriel smirks, reaching back for his thighs, wiggling his fingers up underneath. The youngling squeals brightly and throws his legs out, drumming his heels into the bed, his toes fan out as he goes rigid for a moment, cackling high pitched cackles of laughter. "_It matches my eyes_."

"Eeieiieiehahiahahhahahahhahahaa eieieiaihaahahahhahahahaa eiieieieheehehahahahahahaha! Gehhehehehehehheet thehehehehehem ohohhohohuhuhuhuut! Gehehehehhehehehet theheheheem ohohhohuhuhuhuhut! Eieieieaihahahahahhhahahha hahahahahahah eieiehahaehheahahahahaha! Puhhuhuhuhuhuhurrrihihihihihihi! Eieieieiehahhahahahahhahaha ahahhahahaha eiieieieieahahahahahahha!"

"Do you want more berries then?"

Paul shakes his head frantically, pushing as hard as he can at the medic's shoulders. "Nohohohoho! Not those!"

"You either get berries, or I stay here, which one do you want as your punishment?"

Neither one is good, but he must pick, before the Power picks, because he'll pick both and that's just not fair. Why did he get stuck with the guardian who enjoyed torturing people, papa thinks he's so funny, this has to be some sort of comeuppance for all the pranks he plays on him.

"Time's running out, Pauly, better pick quick."

"Ihihihihi nehehehehehheed eeieiiaaihaahhahahahaha mohohohohoreehehehe thihihihimehehehee!"

"You got thirty seconds, mister, and then _I'm _choosing."

"Eieieiiehaahhaahhahahahaa eieieihaahahahahhaa yohohouuhuhuhuhur nohohhoot mahahahahaaking iihhihihit ehehehhahahahahhasy! Eeiaiaihaahahhahahaha ahahahhahahahha! I cahahahahahan't thihihhink! Stohohohhoohhop!"

"Oh, I don't intend to." The medic chuckles lowly. "Fifteen seconds and counting."

"Ahahahhahahaha I cahahahhahahaan't pihihihihihihick!"

"Five, four, three, two—"

"BERRIES! BEHEHEHEHEHERRIES!"

"Aww," Puriel pouts slightly. "I wanted to stay here." He shrugs, reaching up to hold onto his sides. "But I live berries too, so no foul."

Paul laughs giddily as he takes a deep breath, slowly lowering himself down to his belly, and he tries to suck his tummy in as best as he can.

But there's no stopping it.

"IEEIIEEIEAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHOHOHO! EIEIEAIAAIHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHA AAHHAAHAHAHAHA! PUHUHUHURRIEIIIIEIEIEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA! OKAHAHAHAHHAY! OKAY! EIEIEAIAIAHHAAHAHAHAHHAHA! IHIHIHIHIEHIEIEIEIAHAHAHAHAHAHHHIIII'M SOHOHOHORRYYYEIAIAIAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! EEIIEIEAIHAHAHAHAHAHHAA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AEIEIEIEIEIEIAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!"

The youngling curls around him, curling his legs around his chest, his arms around his head, and Puriel laughs softly, pushing them up from the bed, up to his feet. He curls his arms under the boy, keeping him in place, and blows another harsh berry. "EIEIEIAIIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! AHAHAHHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHIIHIM SOHHOHOHOHORRY!"

He pulls away, resting his chin on the shaking belly lightly. "Now, you have to take another bath too."

Paul giggles, rubbing his fingers through the Power's purple paint covered hair. "Still wohohhoorth it."

The medic chuckles softly, nodding his head in agreement. "It was a good one. Definitely a classic. Where'd you get the paint?"

"From Dad's workshop."

"Ooooohhh better hope He doesn't find out."

"He won't know it was me, I left a note, Gabe is going to be in so much trouble."

"I'm terrified." Puriel chuckles softly. "You've been trained too well."

Paul smiles, rubbing his hands over the Power's face, smearing the paint around. Puriel closes his eyes tightly, his face scrunches up and he snaps at the fingers rubbing over his cheeks, the boy squeaks and pulls his hands back quickly.

Chuckling, the Power bounces him, until he slips down some, and they're face to face. "We should clean this mess up."

"I'll help."

"Of course, you're helping!"


	197. My Warden

"Oh, just you wait until I catch you!"

He laughs as he turns the corner, skidding around, he almost slides into the open cell across from him, but he catches himself and continues on his journey. He can hear the heavy bootsteps coming up behind him, slowly, it draws closer and closer, and he laughs again, throwing open a cell door to try and delay his pursuer. He hears them curse softly and the cell door get thrown shut, it bangs and rattles, and the chase is back on.

Chancing a glance over his shoulder, he laughs giddily at the distance that seems to be shrinking with every passing moment and pushes himself to run faster.

The Prison is a maze, and in order to get your way around, you had to know the maze and how it worked. Luckily, he was raised here, he knows the maze like he knows the back of his hand. But so, does his pursuer.

He curls his fingers around another corner and throws himself forward, stumbling a bit as he does, almost losing his footing, but he catches himself once more and continues on.

Chancing another glance, his eyebrows furrow when he doesn't spot them, they've disappeared, they were right there a minute ago.

He turns back around and his eyes widen at the sight of the smug smirk, the older angel bends slightly, and because of the sudden change, he doesn't have time to stop himself, not really, he stops his feet, but he slides forward from the momentum, and because of his positioning, he falls over the older angel's shoulder. They stand again, back to their full height, and he watches as the floor seemingly leaves him by miles.

"Bad." A large hand smacks him playfully on the rear as they walk forward. "Taking what doesn't belong to you. Bad, bad Sasha." He squirms slightly, smiling as he looks down to the long sleek feather, he has the fingers of his right hand curled around. The hand smacks his bottom again and he giggles softly. The hand travels down to his thigh and the fingers wiggle in slightly, he shrieks softly and jolts, trying to kick his leg out of their reach. "Now I have to punish you, taking time out of my busy day, the nerve of the young angels these days."

"You weren't busy!"

"I was busy if I say I was busy!" Those fingers wiggle in again and he shrieks again, bracing his hands against the older angel's back.

It had been some time since he'd last heard his laughter ringing through these halls, it used to be a common occurrence and then things changed, and the only thing he heard after that was silence. Nothing but silence. But here it was again, just as beautiful as it was before, a sound that was prettier then any of the voices of the Choir, the sound of laughter, real music, to his ears at least. He never thought he'd get to play with his young ward again, after everything they had been through, Nisroc had replaced him, it had come as a surprise to him when he'd found that his youngest boy had been left in his custody in the event of his untimely demise, he must have just changed those arrangements, there was no way that's how it was before they found out what had been done.

It warmed his heart.

"Thaddy, I can't believe you still have this thing."

"Of course, I do. It's my most prized possession." Sasha tugs at the back of the Warden's tunic lightly. "After you, of course, after you."

"Don't lie to me, Thaddy, I come second fiddle to a feather. If you had to pick between it and me, I bet you'd go for the feather."

"Oh, don't be like that." He pats his thigh lightly, and then a finger scratches at the underside of his knee lightly, he yelps and kicks his leg as best as he can. "You know I'd pick you. I love my feather. But I love you more." He reaches back up and fingers wiggle in his thigh again. "Besides, I don't need the feather to torture you."

"Thahahhaaddy!"

"There it is! That's what I missed the most!" He hums happily, turning his fingers inwards. "Music to my ears."

He stops before the three entrances. "Should we take this to the chamber or to the bed?"

"I don't like the chamber."

"Alrighty," Sasha watches from his hanging position as they take the first stair, and then the next, heading up to the Warden's quarters. "To the bed we go."

…

He smiles as he looks up at the sleeping face of his _'guardian'_, watching the slight rise and fall of his chest, the soft snores coming from his mouth. He'd spent the day here, like the good old days when he'd been a small fledgling, and they'd spent the entirety of it together, just like old times, and it had been a great day, that had turned into a great night. They'd played around, wrestled a bit, and then hunkered down together as the storm outside set in.

The youngling jolts slightly at the strong clash of thunder, and the arms tighten around him slightly, drawing him closer. He sighs in comfort, cuddling down under his arms, rubbing his cheek into his chest under him.

This was _his _Thaddy.

…

_He giggles to himself as he backs into the darkened corner, there was no better hiding space then in plain sight, he'd never find him here. _

"_Found you." Strong fingers curl under his arms and toss him up. He shrieks as he's thrown up into the air, kicking and milling his arms around, shrieking with laughter when those hands catch him and toss him back up. He's caught in a pair of strong arms and they spin around, making their way back down the hall. _

_He giggles up at him, his curls bounce with every step they make, passing by empty cells on their travels. "How'd y'o find me, Taddy?"_

"_I know how your mind works." He pokes him on the nose. "No better hiding spot then the hiding spot in plain sight."_

_The fledgling crosses his arms. _

"_And I heard you giggling." The Warden wiggles a finger into his belly. "Like the little giggle monster, you are."_

"_Yea, well," the fledgling tugs at his beard. "You're a tickle monster!"_

_His guardian comes to a stop, looking down at him with raised eyebrows, and he giggles bubbly giggles. "Oh, getting sassy now, are we?" He nips at the fingers tugging at his beard and the fledgling giggles some more. "No sassiness, young man."_

"_You're not the boss'a me!"_

"_Alright, that's it, you get a punishment." He giggles as he's lifted up, above the Warden's head, and reaches down when his little tunic rides up, but he doesn't manage to block in time, because the older angel buries his face into his belly and begins to nibble. He squeals, kicking his legs, burying his fingers in the Warden's hair. _

"_Taahahahahhahaaddyyyy! Sohohhohoorryyy! Tahahahahahhahhahaaddyy!"_

"_Are you sorry for being a sassy pants?"_

"_Soohhohohohorry! Bihihihihiig sohohohohohorry!"_

"_Am I the boss of you?"_

"_Yeheheheheheheeessssss!"_

_The Warden nibbles for a minute longer before pulling away, tossing the fledgling up once more, he chuckles softly at his excited shriek, and catches him in a cradle. "I think it's nap time."_

"_Nooooo!"_

"_Oh, it's definitely nap time." He bounces him gently and then switches to rocking. "I'll even come nap with you, so you're not alone, seeing as how it's supposed to storm this afternoon."_

"_Thanks, Taddy." The child sits up, pressing a kiss to his cheek, he leans into it slightly to make it easier. "Love you."_

"_Always, Sasha." He leans down, kissing him on the forehead in turn, and cuddles him closer. "I love you, too."_

…

He blinks into awareness to a particularly loud clap of thunder, it shakes the window, and he squeaks, huddling closer to the sleeping angel next to him. The arms around him tighten again, tugging him around, until he finds himself with his face pressed to the Warden's chest and fingers rubbing through his curls.

"Mmm, it's okay, little dragonfly." Warm lips press to his forehead. "I've got you."

Sasha squirms slightly to get into a more comfortable position on top of his new sleeping mat, turning his head, he presses his ear to the man's chest, letting the beat of his heart drown out the rolling thunder around them.

Another loud clap and he shivers, those arms curl around him tighter once more, a large hand curls around his exposed ear. He can still hear the thunder, but it's muffled now, the beating of the heart in his other ear is louder.

"It's okay, little dragonfly." The chest rumbles underneath him. "You're safe with me."

"I don't like storms, Taddy."

"Mmm, I know, Sasha, but I'm here. I'll protect you."

He smiles, nuzzling into his chest, reaching up to capture the hand curled around his ear, their fingers curl together and he brings that big warm hand down, curling it under his chin. "I love you, Taddy."

"Mmmm, I love you too, dragonfly."


	198. Quality Time

He settles into bed with a sigh and a smile, the airs turning crisp, storms are more frequent, and there's nothing like laying back in a warm bed, reading a good book, while the rain beat against the window and lightning lit the sky. He just opened his book, settled in to read the next chapter, when the door to his room flew open. There was a streak, and something damp was sliding up under his book and curling around him, sighing again, he sets his book aside to investigate this mysterious stranger. Pulling down the soaked hood, he stares into familiar baby blue eyes, and raises an eyebrow when they smile up at him.

"Hey, Thaddy."

"Hello, Sasha." He nods towards the window, and as if on cue, lightning lights the sky. "What are you doing running around in that storm."

"Well, Nis is down in the ancient city with Ava and Paul is staying with Puri tonight."

"And, you didn't want to be alone?"

The boy shakes his head, and the Warden sighs again, nodding his head, he gestures to the Wardrobe. "Get changed into something dry, you're soaked to the bone."

"Okay!" Sasha crawls off him, to the edge of the bed, and climbs off. Pulling the wardrobe door open, he picks one of the tunics off a hanger, slips his tunic off, and the dry one over his head. He skips on the trousers, Thaddeus's don't fit him anyway, and turns back for the bed. His _'guardian' _has resumed to reading his book, and he jets forward, the older angel lifts the edge of the blanket at just the right moment, and he slides in under the blankets. Cuddling around the older angel, he makes himself comfortable, resting against his side. "Thaddy, whatcha readin?"

"A book."

"I can see that!" He pokes him in the side harshly and the Warden jolts. "Don't start something you can't finish, dragonfly."

"What kinda book are you readin?"

"A thriller."

"Will you read it to me until I fall asleep?"

He settles back against his pillow and raises his arm slightly, for the younger angel to climb under, and Sasha slides in next to him, sidling up close to his side, resting his head on his chest, and the arm lowers around him, pulling him close.

"Sure, I'll read to you." He rubs his chin over the side of the boy's temple. "Cuddle on close, I don't want you to get scared."

"I won't get scared!" Still, he cuddles close just to be safe. "I'm fearless."

A loud bolt of thunder rocks the window panes and he gives a soft _'eep' _and ducks into the Warden's side, the older angel chuckles softly as he turns the page in his book. "Fearless, huh?"

"That doesn't count!" He peeks up at him and Thaddeus smiles, leaning over to kiss the tip of his nose lightly, and he giggles softly. "Thunder is scary, everyone knows that."

"It sure is, cuddle in close," he turns back to his book. "It's going to storm all night."

"It is?" The youngling bites his lip and cuddles closer. "Thaddy, I don't like thunderstorms."

"I know you don't, dragonfly." He pulls him closer. "Cuddle in close and I'll read to you."

…

"Hey, Puri."

The medic jumps slightly, not expecting the voice from behind, and turns to peer around his arm to see who the voice belonged to. He doesn't expect to see his charge standing there, huddling slightly on his bad leg, smiling like the little fool he is.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" He turns, planting his hands on his hips, looking him over carefully. "You should be resting that ankle, Paul."

"But, Puriiii, it's boringggg!" He curls his fingers around the medic's upper arm to steady himself from falling over. "All I do is sit there and twiddle my fingers…Everything's out of reach! I can't just sit there!"

"You should," he wags his finger at the boy. "You put too much weight on that ankle, and you could cause permanent damage."

"I know, I know," he rolls his eyes. "You've already said all of that." He tugs at his arm desperately. "I need to be _entertained _Puri!"

Heaving a sigh, Puriel rolls his eyes fondly, but nods his head. "C'mere then." Hooking his fingers around the boys shoulders, he spins him around, and hooks his fingers under his arms, hefting him from his feet and he ducks slightly to secure him on his shoulders. He curls his fingers under his knees, mindful of his bad ankle, and turns back to his training squadron. "We're starting medic training next; you can be my test dummy."

"Did you just call me a _'dummy'_?"

"I would _never_."

…

"Papa," he looks up at the knock on his door and the sound of his voice, frowning at the congested undertones. "I don't feel good."

Titus stands from his desk chair, after turning it to the side, and crosses to the doorway of his room, reaching up, he presses the back of his right hand to the young guards forehead and frowns again. "You've got a bit of a fever, baby angel." He guides him forward gently, feeling at his cheeks as he does, and leads him over to the big bed under the window. "Have you felt bad for long?"

"Since this morning." Sorath hugs his dolphin closer. "I just thought I ate too much for breakfast."

"Oh, baby angel, I think it's a bit more then that." He pulls the blankets back and guides the younger angel down, under the blankets, and resting against the pillow, he tucks him in gently. "You've caught a bit of a bug."

"Papa, I don't like being sick." Sorath pouts softly. "It makes me feel all bad."

"I know you don't, little angel, but papa will make you feel all better again in no time." The Power guides him back into the pillows and pulls the blankets up to tuck under his chin. "Tell papa what hurts, baby boy."

Sorath nods, coughing softly into his arm. "My belly hurts, papa. And, my throat."

"Just a bit of a cold." He pokes his nose and stands from the edge of the bed, heading for the cupboard over his desk, and rummages through it for a moment before he finds what he's searching for. Pulling a small red bottle out of the cupboard, he picks up a discarded spoon from his desk, and returns to his perch on the edge of the bed. "This will help you feel better so you can sleep."

"Papa, will you sleep with me?"

He measures out a spoonful and holds it to the younger angel's lips, nodding when he opens his mouth to take it. "Papa's got to finish a few lessons, but then he'll come rest with you, okay?"

"Okay, papa."

"Good angel, you just cuddle your dolphin close and close those eyes, you'll be asleep in no time."

Sorath cuddles down, hugging his beloved stuffed dolphin closer, and inhales a stuffy big breath. "I love you, papa."

"Papa loves you too, little angel." He leans in, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Papa will join you in a short bit."

"Okay, papa." His eyes flutter. "Papa, when you come, will you rub my belly?"

"Yes I will, little one, go on to sleep now."

The younger angel yawns widely, nuzzling down into the pillow under his head. "Okay…Papa…."


	199. The Deserter

It had all happened so fast, one moment she was minding her own business, and in the next she was being roughed around, manacles were clamped around her wrists, a gag shoved in her mouth, and a hood was being pulled over her head to keep her from seeing the trail they took back to their base of operations.

When the hood was pulled off, there was a group of tall men around her, she eyed them all tentatively. She recognized a few of them, and it made her fearful that she had been recaptured by her own people, that she had wandered into the wrong camp, one of them was starring at her, nodding along to what he was being told, she couldn't hear it over the ringing in her ears, someone had knocked her over the head. He took the clipboard he was being handed and signed his name under the first, on the dotted line, and waved his hand at them.

She's lifted from her chair, dragged out the door and down the hall, towards another room. This one's darker, torches light the room in a dim glowing orange. She's manhandled forward, onto the metal table, her ankles bound at the bottom, her arms lifted, the manacles replaced by cuffs on the top of the table. She struggles tugging at her binds, and manages to slip her right hand out and manages a solid punch to the guard on her right. He stumbles back, cursing as he clamps his hands over his nose, he turns back to her sharply, raising his own fist, and she closes her eyes, bracing herself for the—

"I _know _you're not about to strike one of my prisoners."

He back tracks, clutching at his sore nose, and shakes his head silently.

"Good." The man from before is here, he's standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest lightly. "Fasten her wrist and leave us be."

The guard nods, elbowing his partner to do as they were told, and makes his leave, probably to get his nose tended to. His partner straps the cuff around her wrist tighter, she tugs at it, but it doesn't give this time, and she huffs, watching the man in the doorway step aside to allow them to leave.

"How could a tiny thing like you pack such a wallop?" He steps into the room, kicking it closed with his heel, and crosses over to stand at her side. "Lets get this out of your mouth, I can't imagine it tastes very nice." He pulls her gag out carefully, clearly not wanting to harm her as he did, and pulls it off from around her neck. "There we go. All better."

She licks her lips, smacking her lips slightly, and stretches her jaw lightly until it cracks. "You're the Warden?"

He nods. "I am. My names Thaddeus. What's your name?"

She bites her lip softly. "Yasmin."

"Hello, Yasmin," he reaches up, shaking her hand slightly, despite the cuff around her wrist. "It's nice to meet you."

"You would dirty yourself touching the prisoners?"

"If you're dirty, we can get you bathed, being dirty can become quite uncomfortable." He tilts his head lightly. "Are you dirty?"

"I..I don't know."

"You don't know if you're dirty or not?"

"I don't think I am."

"Well, then, we have nothing to worry about, do we?"

She raises her eyebrows slightly. "Why belittle yourself, though?"

"'_Belittle myself'_?" He tilts his head to the side slightly. "I'm assuming _your _Warden isn't like me, are they?"

"Octavius would never taint himself with touching the prisoners."

"Well," he pokes her on the nose lightly. "I'm _nothing _like him. I happen to enjoy spending time with my prisoners. They can make for great company when they're in the right mood."

Yasmin blinks. "But shouldn't you….Shouldn't you send in a torturer to get information from me?"

Thaddeus smiles, leaning against the side of the table. "I'm the best torturer we've got."

She closes her eyes tightly, preparing herself for it. "Do your worst."

"Oh, I love it when they say that." He cracks his fingers lightly, she can hear it, but she doesn't see it, she doesn't want to see what he's about to do. "First, we test the waters, I need to know what I'm working with."

She wants to ask what he means by that but she's too frightened to, she doesn't want to open her eyes, she doesn't want to see what kind of horrible instrument he's going to use on her.

Something pokes into her armpit and she inhales deeply. Then it starts to wiggle, and she can't help it, she shrieks softly, squirming to the side, and her eyes fly open to see what he's doing. He smiles at her, wiggling his finger over her armpit, she's never been tortured like this before, this isn't painful, this doesn't hurt. "Whahahahat are youhuhuhu doing?"

"I'm feeling out which path I'm going to take." He reaches over and wiggles his finger in her other armpit, and she shrieks again, squirming over to the other side. "Awww, is my new little prisoner just a wee bit ticklish?"

She shrieks again when he wiggles in a second finger and bites her lip harshly to silence them from coming forth once more.

"Okay, this seems promising." He moves his fingers downwards, wiggling them into her belly, she _'eeps' _before she can stop herself. "Ooooh, this too. This all seems very promising."

"Whyhyhyhyhy?"

"Because, not all torture has to be painful." He tugs her raggedy tunic up slightly to reveal her pale belly underneath and poises his fingers over it. "I've come to learn my methods can be very effective." He leans over her and she stares up at him with wide eyes. "Now, are you going to answer my questions willingly, or, am I going to have to force the answers from you?"

Yasmin bites her lip. "I won't tell you anything."

"Oh," he winks down at her. "We'll see about that." He leans forward slightly. "Let's start with an easy one, what were you doing in our camp?"

She bites her lip and he smiles. "Oh, I'll get you to talk." He wiggles his fingers in and she shrieks, arching under him, unable to hold back her boisterous laughter despite how hard she tries to bite her lip to keep it inside her, she doesn't manage it. "Let's try this again, what were you doing in our camp?"

"Stoohohohohhohoohop! Stohohohhohop! Ahahahahahahhahaha!"

"All you've got to do is answer my questions and I'll let you go." He shrugs slightly. "Maybe."

"Ahahahahahahahaha! I wahahahahaantehehehheed tohohohoh beehehehehehe fohohohohound!"

"You wanted to be found?" He moves his fingers down to wiggle into her sides and she shrieks brightly, squirming from side to side. "Are you some kind of spy?"

Yasmin shakes her head frantically, wiggling under his wiggling fingers, trying to pull away from one side and only ends up trapped on the other. "Nohohohohoho! Hahahahhahahaha! Stohohohohop! I'm nohhohohoho spyhyhyhyhyhy!"

"If your not a spy, then what are you?" She shakes her head again, shrieking with laughter, trying to suck in her belly when those wiggling fingers move back up over it. "Answer the question, please." When she shakes her head again, he moves his fingers up to her armpits, and she squeals softly, tugging at her wrists desperately. "I'm ahahahhahahaha ahahahhahahahha dehehehhehesssseehehehehhehertehehehehheerrr!"

"You're a deserter?" She nods frantically. "Why did you go AWOL?"

"Eieieieahhahahahah! I dihihihihihidn't wahahahahhhaahaant tohohohoh ahahahahhahahah fihihihihiight! Stohohohohohohhop! Plehehehehahhhahahahhase!"

"We're not quite done yet, though I do appreciate the manners, why become a prisoner of war over fight for your people?"

Yasmin shrieks, squeaking softly when he moves his fingers up to scratch lightly at the sides of her neck, and she shakes her head, pressing her chin to her chest and tries to scrunch up her shoulders. "Cruhuhhueuehehehhhehehel! Tyhyhyhyhrrrahahahahants! Ehehehehehhehe! Gehehehhet ohohouhout!"

"You were trying to escape?"

She nods frantically, giggling as he scratches his pointer fingers under her ears. "Ahahhahahhaasyhyhyhyhllluuhuhum! Ehehehhehehehe!"

"Asylum?" He pauses, looking down into her teary eyes, reaching down to rub away a stray tear as it slips down her cheek, and he frowns, turning her head to the side, running a finger down a lengthy scar running from her eyebrow and to where it disappears down under her ear. "You came seeking asylum?" Yasmin nods weakly, giggling breathlessly still, and he smiles down at her, it was cute. "I told you I'd get you to talk."

"Yohohhour a gohohood torturer."

"Thank you. I'm the best of the best." He reaches upwards, above her head, and she follows his hands to watch him undo the straps around her wrists. "If you came seeking asylum, we can start the process, it takes some time, but I'll see that you'll get it."

She sits up, watching him step down to undo the straps around her ankles, she rubs at her belly lightly, trying to rub away the remaining tingles. He returns to her side, turning her around by the knees, her legs dangle over the edge of the table and he turns her head again, frowning once more. "Where'd you get this?"

"Octavius."

He hums, letting her chin go, curling his hand around her cheek lightly, caressing it gently. "The first thing we'll do is get you looked over by a healer, I need to do so to complete your intake, and the findings we come across can assist us in your petition for asylum."

The younger angel stares up at him. "You'll be there, too right?"

"Well, seeing as your still technically my prisoner," he smiles at her gently. "I have to be there."

He holds his hand out to her, her fingers curl delicately around his, and he helps her down off the table. "You can rest in my office for a bit before we go though, I have to finish some paperwork first."

"Rest in your office?"

"There's a cot in there," he pushes the door open and guides her around into the aforementioned office. "With a nice soft pillow and a warm blanket. You nap a bit and I'll wake you when I'm done so we can go."

"But, in your office?" She stops in the doorway and he stops with her. "Octavius never lets prisoners in his office."

"Well," he guides her forward, towards the cot. "_I'm _not _him_." He turns her around and sits her on the edge of the cot. "You're welcome in my office anytime." Thaddeus guides her back against the pillow. "And you're allowed to nap in here anytime you want, too."

Yasmin nods, curling up slightly, giving a small smile when he tucks the blanket up under her chin.

"You rest for a bit." He caresses her cheek again. "I'll wake you in a while."


	200. Not Ticklish (Sike)

"Now this just isn't fair."

She giggles at the pouting angel at her feet, leaning back against the table against the far wall, it was funny to see the infamous Warden pouting because he didn't get his way. He wasn't anything like she had imagined him to be, he was much more playful then what she had thought he would be, nicer then she had imagined, he gave her extra supper the other night because hers had gone cold before it had gotten to her.

"You look like a fledgling."

"Yea, yea, laugh it up." He waves away her statement, crossing his arms petulantly, he was dissatisfied with this experience. "You're not being fair."

"I can't help it I'm not ticklish."

He points a finger at her. "Everyone's ticklish _somewhere_."

"Not me."

"I bet your one of those people who are ticklish in some obscure place." He rubs at his chin. "You won't tell me, will you?"

"No."

She giggles when he crosses his arms again, setting his shoulders, and huffs. "Fine. I'll just have to figure it out myself." He rubs at his chin again. "My little dragonfly always hid in the most obvious places, he always said the best hiding spots were in plain sight, because no one expects you to be there." He eyes her carefully. "The most obvious place…."

He steps forward, pushing away from the table, and comes to stand at her side, trailing his finger up her leg. "How about here?" He reaches under her knee with a finger and itches it in, she shrieks, and he raises his free hand in success. "Found it!" He reaches under with his free hand and wiggles his fingers in the soft flesh gently, she shrieks, kicking her leg against its restraint. "I thought you said you weren't ticklish, Laylah."

She squeals when he reaches under both knees and wiggles his fingers into the sensitive flesh, kicking her legs desperately. "Aahahahhahahahahha! Eieieiaaahahahhahahahahaha! Nohohohohoho! Thahahahahhaaddy! Ahahahahhahaha!"

The Warden smiles happily as he looks up at her. "This is much better." He reaches down to undo the straps from around her ankles, gathering them both in one of his hands, he hops up to sit on the table, letting his legs dangle over the side, he pulls her legs down over his lap, and wiggles his fingers back under her left knee. She squeals again, kicking her legs desperately, thinking she could free them without the straps keeping her in place, but the older angel has them well trapped over his lap. "I can't believe you wouldn't tell me." He switches to her right knee. "I mean, I thought we were friends, Lay."

"Eieieehaahahhahahhhaha! Thahahahhahaadddyyy! Lehehehehhet gohohohoo! Ahahahhahahhahaha! Ehehehehheahaahahahaha! Plehehehhehehaaahahahhahahase!"

"I don't think I should." He kicks his legs lightly. "You wanted me to have a bad time, didn't you? You liked watching me suffer." She squeals every time he jumps between her knees. "I should turn you over and blow as many berries as I can on the backs of these knees. Let that teach you to keep me waiting."

Laylah's eyes widen and she shrieks, shaking her head frantically, she knows he's not above doing just that. "I'm sohohohohooorry! Nohhohohohoho! Ahahahahahhaha eieieaihahahahahahhaha! Plehehehehhahaahhahahahahahase!"

Thaddeus seems to think on it, making a show of it, rubbing at his beard as though thinking it through. He nods lightly, leaning over her. "Give me a kiss, Lay?"

She giggles lightly, sitting up as much as she can, pecking him on the cheek.

"Oh, you're lucky I'm such a softie." He reaches over her head to undo the straps and gathers her up in his arms and drops off the table, she giggles breathlessly, resting her head on his shoulder. "You want to take a nap?"

She nods lightly. "Yes, please."

He presses a kiss to the side of her head. "Anything for a friend, Lay."


	201. You Like What You Like

The door to his office opens quietly and closes behind the intruder with a soft click, there's a soft gulp, something being drunk. A dark glass of _something _is set down to rest on the side of his desk, as they step around behind him, he sighs as arms wind around his neck from behind, focusing as much as he can on the paperwork he was _diligently _working on. The arms tighten slightly and tug backwards, pulling him back, away from his desk, and he sighs again as a lithe form ducks under his arm and climbs up to sit on the edge of his desk, _over _the paperwork he was working on, and feet curl over his thighs as they turn to pick their cup back up, taking another sip.

"Paul," He curls his arms inwards, curling his fingers around the younger angel's waist, as he turns a smile up to the boy. "Not that I don't _love_ seeing you, but I'm working on something, _and _my office door was closed, meaning…."

The boy takes a sip from his drink. "You are not to be disturbed."

"And, what is it that you are doing?"

"Gracing you with my presence."

The Captain sighs again, reaching around to pinch the bridge of his nose, nodding slightly. "I thank you for _'gracing' _me with your presence, but you know when my door is closed, I am not to be disturbed unless something is on fire or someone has been harmed."

"You mean, you _don't _like being graced with my presence?" The boy presses a hand to his heart. "Papa, you don't love me, anymore?"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, I didn't say that." He hums, forgetting about completing that paperwork tonight, his boy has made himself comfortable where he sits, and he winds his arms back around him. He squeezes his fingers into his hips, and the boy smiles over the rim of his cup, giggling softly as he worms from side to side, his toes digging into his thighs. "You know I love you." He nods to the cup. "What have you got there?"

"Juice." Paul smiles lightly, and throws the contents into the Power's face, laughing at his quick inhale and his face scrunching up. Nisroc reaches up with his hands to rub the juice off his face, glaring up at the boy when he clears his eyes, rubbing his hands over the sides of his thighs to dry them off. "See."

"Oh, I _see_." He curls his fingers under his feet and wiggle them lightly into his sole, the boy _'eeps' _and kicks his feet lightly, giggling lightly as he squirms. "You little stink." He walks his fingers out from under his feet and up to his knees, wiggling his pointer fingers under both knees, and the boy squeaks softly, wiggling his legs under his fingers. "Now, you're going to get it."

"Niihihhiisss!"

"Oh, you're not getting out of this one." His fingers travel up from his knees to his thighs, and the boy squeals softly, lifting his feet from the Power's thighs, he wiggles and squirms but noticeably doesn't try and pull away, even though he could, and that's something his guardian takes notice of but doesn't comment on. Not yet. He curls his fingers around his upper thighs and stands from his seat, hefting the boy up as he does, Paul shrieks as he's swept up, dropping his cup as he reaches up to grab onto his shoulders. The Power smiles up at him, leaning in to nuzzle his cheek against the boy's neck, smiling at his giggling, and pulls away after a minute, pressing his forehead to his boy's. "Lets take this somewhere more private."

Paul giggles in anticipation and hugs himself close to the Captain, he chuckles lightly, rubbing their cheeks together, and steps out from behind his desk. Making his way over to the door, he pulls it open, carrying the young angel with him, out of the Captain's office and down the hall towards the stairs for the Pavilion above, smiling at the young angel's giggles as they make their way up and through the lounge. Titus and Abraxos smile at the as they pass, shaking their heads in amusement, they know how _that_ particular boy could be, they all knew, all too well. He winks at them as they pass, making his way down the hall, for the room at the end, the Captain's room, and kicks the door closed with the heel of his boot. He steps up to the end of the bed and tosses the boy over it, he shrieks softly, winding his arms as he falls backwards, bouncing on the plush mattress a bit, watching as the Power bend over, undoing the laces in his boots, toeing them off as he steps forward, crawling up over the end of the bed.

"I've neglected you, my little Pauly." Paul braces his hands up, curling his fingers around his hands when he reaches for the hem of his tunic, and they wrestle for a bit. He misses these moments, they aren't as frequent since the boy began his training, but they still manage to squeeze them in, especially on his free days. _And, _after the whole event of him passing and coming back, he made sure to make time for his boys, he hadn't realized how much he had started to take their being there for granted, until he nearly lost them himself, it had taken them nearly three months to get them back up to where they should be, and even longer to get them to let him go, for their clinginess to fade.

The Power gains the upper hand quickly, leaning forward, his fingers curled around the youngster's wrists, and braces them on either side of his head, bending forward to bury his face into the side of his neck, rubbing his beard in and nibbling gently, the boy shrieks softly and tries to scrunch up, but only just, he's still able to worm around just fine.

With the boy distracted and giggling frantically, he shakes his hands free, the youth curls his fingers in the front of his tunic, and he reaches down for the hem of his, pulling it up quickly, he pulls away slightly to tug it up over his head, and buries his face back into his neck as he tosses it aside. Paul shrieks brightly, tugging at the front of his tunic, curling his legs up, he braces his feet on the Power's bed and pushes, sliding up under the Captain.

Nisroc chuckles softly, curling his arms around the boys waist instead, and buries his face in his belly. The boy squeals softly, reaching down, curling his fingers in the Power's long hair, he tugs softly but not painfully and pushes with his feet again. Those arms curled around his waist tighten, and he puffs his cheeks up, blowing a light raspberry over his belly button, and he squeals louder, brighter then before. "Eieeieieieeaaahahhahahahahahha! Pahahahahapapaahahahhaha! Ahahhahahahahahahahahaaahahahaha!"

The elder chuckles again, taking another breath, he moves to the right a bit and blows another raspberry. "Eieiieaihaahahahhahahaaaa! Ahahahaahahahahhahahaaahhaha! Hhahahhahahahaha!"

Taking another breath, he moves to the left, buries his face into that spot, and blows out harder then the first two. "EIEIEIEIHEHEHEHEHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHA! PAHAHAHHAHAPAPPAHAHAHHAHAHA! AAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAA!"

He chuckles again, pulling away from his belly, he unwinds his arms momentarily and reaches back, digging his fingers into his thighs. "You put those legs down, mister." Paul squeals again. "Eieieiahahahahahahhahahaa ahahahahahahahaha!" He kicks his legs out, throwing them back down, drilling his heels in the bed. Nisroc falls over him, his legs running down his sides, he continues his assault on his thighs, reaching back further to wiggle his fingers up underneath. "Eeieiieieaihaahhahahahahahha nohohohohohoho! Nohohohohot theheheheherrehehehehe! Pahahahahappapahahahaha!"

"Not where?" He pauses for a moment and Paul giggles in anticipation. "Here?" He wiggles his fingers back in and the youth kicks his legs, shrieking with laughter, shaking his head frantically. "No? So, it's okay here?"

"Nohohohohoho! Ahahahahhahaha! Eieieiaiaaihahahahahahahahaha! Aaahahahhahahhaa!" He presses his head back into the pillow. "Thahahahahhaats nohohhohohot whahahahhat I meheheahhahahahant! Ahahhahahahahha eieiiehahahahahahaha!" He squeals brightly when he curls his fingers inward. "EEIEIEIEHEHHEHAHAHHAHAHHAHAA! PAAHHAHHAHAPAPAHAHAHAHHAHA!"

The Power laughs softly. "Pauly, this is the third time you've thrown something in my face _this _week _alone." _He pulls away from his thighs and wiggles his index fingers in his lower belly. "I can't help but notice a pattern, here." He pauses, tapping his fingers over the belly gently. "Pauly, do you like it when I tickle you?"

Paul bites his lip, shaking his head frantically, and he wiggles his fingers in gently. "Now, why don't I believe that?" The youth giggles feverishly as he wiggles his fingers gently. "Tell me the truth, Pauly, you know you can tell me anything."

He bites his lip tightly, those fingers halting their gentle assault, and he pouts lightly, nodding slightly.

"There we go, truth will out, that wasn't so hard." He wiggles his fingers in again and the boy shrieks again, arching his back lightly at the assault. "You should have just asked me, I would have gladly given you some tickles, you didn't have to _soak _me."

"Ehehehhehhehheaaahahhahahahahahaha! Wahahahahaihihihihihit! Wait!" He pauses his assault and lets the boy catch his breath, waiting for him to continue his statement. "Yohohou don't mihihind?"

"Of course not, you like what you like, you're most certainly not the first person I know who likes to be tickled, and I'm sure you won't be the last." He taps his fingers over his belly. "If you ever want tickles, you just need to ask, I'm more than happy to oblige."

Paul smiles at him. "You're the best, papa." He giggles softly. "Best papa, ever." He opens his arms widely and the Power chuckles softly. "You want some cuddles now? I _know _you like those." The youth nods, flexing his fingers demandingly, and he chuckles again. "But I wanted to give those armpits some love." He flexes his fingers again. "Papa!"

"Alright, alright, you little fledgling." He crawls himself forward, curling his arms around the boy, and flips them over. Paul shrieks as he tumbles around, settling over the Captain's chest, he sighs contentedly, nuzzling his cheek closer, purring softly when fingers scratch lightly at his shoulders. "I'll give them some love later, then." He hums when the boy shivers slightly, the air is turning crisper in the onset of autumn and turns to look at the light glow of the embers in the fireplace. They flare into life under the intensity of his grace, a nice toasty fire starting to warm the room up, and he pulls the blanket up over them just to be safe, there's no such thing as being too warm in the cool crisp autumn air.

Paul sighs again, nuzzling closer, curling his fingers into the front of his tunic, kneading softly like a content little kitten does. He smiles down at him, scratching his fingers up to the base of his neck, smiling softly at the soft purring sound the boy makes, he's made that soft purr ever since he was just a little thing, it amused him then, and it amused him now, it was endearing, it reminded him as one of the reasons as to why he loved him so much, just how cute he could be. He may be a bit taller, but he was still that little fledgling he'd snatched up, after a bit of a spanking, but he'd still snatched him up, and he'd had no regrets, absolutely none, once you got passed that rough exterior and worked through a few things, he was a real sweetie.

"You like that, Pauly?" The boy nods lightly, nudging his hand when he pauses, and he smiles again, starting back up. "Are you getting sleepy?"

"Mhm…S'eepy…"

He strokes the back of the boy's head. "Then, why don't you take a bit of a nap, the rooms warming up nice and toasty, and I'm not going anywhere."

"Mmm….P'perw'rk…."

"My paperwork can wait." He leans down, kissing him on the head tenderly. "I'm going to stay here with you."

He smiles when the boy smiles, rubbing his cheek over his chest, and starts kneading again. "Mmm…Papa…."

"Papa love you, Pauly." He kisses his head again. "No matter what."


	202. Saving Grace

He sees the knife before the older angel does, walking away from them, the cell lock slipped free and the angel within jumped forward with their concealed weapon, aiming it at the Warden's turned back. He watches the arc, he times it, and his training kicks in, this is _his _Warden, that's _his _Thaddy, he almost (technically _had_) lost one of his guardians, he wasn't losing another, and he jumps forward.

Thaddeus grunts as he's shoved to the side harshly, crashing into the bars of the cell he was beside, the prisoner within yelps and jumps back, gasping at the sight of the youngling struggling with the massive hulking P.O.W coming after his keeper, grappling with the youngling who had shoved the Warden out of the way.

Sasha hisses as the blade slices the pads of his fingers and his palms, his fingers curled tightly around the long blade, it was becoming rather difficult, with his blood slicking the blade up, he pushes all his strength into it as the cell behind him rattles, Thaddeus having crashed into it when he shoved him out of the way, keeping the mass of an enemy at bay.

The Warden looks up at the prisoners gasp, following his pointing finger, and spins around to confront someone for shoving him. His eyes widen at the sight that awaits him and he jumps forward, bumping into the cadet as he does, they're too close for him to use his whip, he runs the risk of hitting his boy if he does, they're much too close. He winces as Sasha cries out when the larger angel tugs his blade free, slicing his hands up as he does, and aims it at the Warden pressing to his back. Thaddeus's eyes widen as the blade comes down quickly, already preparing to curl himself around the smaller angel in front of him, to protect him from the oncoming threat, but Sasha stops him, elbowing him in the gut harshly, he wheezes, bending slightly, watching in horror as the youngling throws his hands up and the blade pierces through his palms, all the way through, the hilt coming to rest against his palm. He curls his fingers around the hilt and yanks the blade away, the blood slicks the hilt, and it slides from the other's hand, and he reels back, his captive hands clenched together and dripping blood, and swings them around, knocking the bigger angel over the side of the head hard enough to send him stumbling into the cell next to them.

It's an empty cell, the doors unlocked, and he falls through as it swings open from the impact, tumbling to the stone floor in a mass of uncoordinated limbs.

Thaddeus jumps forward, curling around the smaller angel as he curls in on himself, adrenaline fading, breathing a shaky whine as the pain of his savaged hands begins to hit him, steadying his shaking hands, holding most of his weight as he practically collapses from the building shock at what had just happened, taking note of the approaching noise, no doubt the scuffle had attracted attention.

Boots pound the stone floor towards them, and he looks up quickly, barking orders at them. "Seize him! Search him for weapons!" The guards nod quickly, gathering in the cell to heft their newest intake to his feet, dragging the dazed angel from the cell, they bind his wrists and one of them begin the task of patting him down thoroughly. "Take him to solitary! I want him under lock down until _I _say otherwise!"

Upon finding nothing more, they drag him away, he goes easily, he's dazed from the harsh blow to the head from the youngling.

He turns his attention back to the angel he's curled around at the sharp wheeze that escapes him, and he tightens his hold around him. "Easy, easy, it's okay, you little _idiot_." Sasha gags violently and he huffs as he hefts him up, it jostles his hands and he shrieks before gagging again, but he has to get him out of this cramped hall in order to treat him properly, and he rushes him down the hall and around the corner, around two more, down two more halls, and into his office.

Forgoing closing the door, he sets the youth down on the cot, reaching for the waste basket beside his desk, he slides it under the younger angel as he finally gags hard enough to vomit, spewing breakfast and stomach acid into the waste basket, he scrunches his nose at the smell but leans forward to rub at the back of his neck comfortingly as he gags again and vomits into the waste basket once more, frowning at the clamminess of his skin, he's going into shock.

Sasha vomits approximately four times before his stomach is empty and he begins to curl inwards again, instinctively trying to protect his hands from the world around them, yelping with the point of the knife pokes into his thigh when it presses down too hard.

"Easy, easy, I need you to hold your hands up." He takes charge in that moment, Thaddeus orders him to hold his hands up, positioning them in a safe position to keep from further damage, and guides him around to lay on the cot, he slides the spare pillow under his knees to elevate his legs and tucks the blanket around him, under his raised hands, and moves away from his side for a brief moment to gather the supplies he needs.

Supplies in hand, he wheels his chair out from behind his desk, and returns to his charge's side. Setting his things down on the bottom edge of the cot, he reaches in the box for thick strips of gauze, to soak up the blood when he pulls the knife out, once that's removed, he can begin to tend to his wounds more accurately. He's no healer, but he could have been a medic if he hadn't become the Warden, he knows what he's doing.

Sasha breathes frantically as he watches him, meeting his eyes when he turns to look down at him, his face reddened, feverish, sweat beading over his forehead. "I'm going to pull the knife out, ready?" He only just jerks a nod and the Warden yanks the knife out swiftly, dropping it beside his foot on the floor, curling his hands around the smaller ones, applying pressure to the numerous wounds that litter them. Sasha cries out as he does, instinctively trying to pull his wounded hands back, but he holds them firm, reaching down with one of his hands to pull a thick tarp over his chest, covering the boy with it, as to not soil the blankets and the bedding as he cleans him up.

He sets his hands down to rest on his stomach lightly, over the thick tarp, and reaches into box again, for antiseptic water. The older angel uncaps the top, and looks down at the boy, his breathing is starting to steady, but his eyes are still bugging slightly, they're in a safe zone now, but he's still on the edge of returning to a shock like state. "I'm going to rinse your hands off, and clean them up a bit, I won't lie to your dragonfly, it's going to burn."

The boy whines softly but nods, and he takes that as his permission, slipping a thick absorbent towel under his hands, laying palms up, and leans over to pour the solution over his hands. He shrieks, yanking his hands away, shivering in pain. Setting the bottle aside, he treats him like one would a skittish animal, reaching out slowly. "It's okay, dragonfly, I know it hurts, I know it does, but we need to get you cleaned up." Sasha shakes his head frantically, pulling his hands closer, and Thaddeus sighs. "I need your hands, dragonfly, I'm almost done. I promise. Can you be brave for me?" He shakes his head again, and sighing once more, the Warden nods, standing from his chair lightly and crossing to the closet built into the wall. Reaching inside, he pulls out his cloak, shakes it out, and turns to return to his chair. Pulling the tarp back slightly, he tucks his cloak over the shivering little angel, tucking it up over his lips, so he can catch his scent in it. "Here, you smell that. It smells like me, doesn't it?"

Sasha nods, sniffing softly, and nods again.

"It's going to protect you, okay?" He nods again. "I'm right here with you. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I need you to give me your hands, dragonfly, I need to get them fixed up."

Sasha shakes his head again.

"Take another sniff of that cloak." He sniffs in deeply, taking in the Warden's scent. "It smells like me, right?" He nods again. "It's nice and warm, too?" He nods once more. "It feels like it's me holding you, doesn't it?" The boy nods once again. "You cuddle into that cloak while I tend to your hands, alright, and then I'll hold you real tight, okay?"

This time, the boy nods, hesitantly, but he nods, and slowly his abused hands slide back down over his belly.

Thaddeus pulls the tarp back up, tucking the cloak around him firmly, and reaches to pick the bottle of antiseptic solution back up. He returns to pouring it over the shredded hands, and the boy shrieks again, his hands flinch violently, but he refrains from pulling them back, biting into the scruff of the cloak curled around him. Once the blood is cleared away, he sets aside the soiled rag he used to mop it up, he takes in the damage. His hands are shredded, as one would expect them to be, curling his fingers around the blade like he had, and then fighting over it, there's a clean slice going through both palms, completely through. He turns the hands over, one by one, holding them up with one of his while he dabs at the hole on the back side of his hand.

Humming to himself, he sets the rag aside, and reaches into the box again, for a small kit. He unzips it and rests it in his lap, pulling a syringe out, he uncaps the needle and taps the side of the vial. Local anesthetic, for when he stitches up the hole through his hands, he sticks it into the palms first, recaps the needle, exchanges it for a threaded needle, and waits a few moments for it to set in.

Sasha whines at the sight of it, a tear slipping from his eye, the first tear since this whole debacle began. "You'll only feel a slight tug, I numbed it for you, you'll only feel a slight tug, maybe a small pinching."

He pulls the left hand forward first, closer, so he can see what he's doing, and begins his stitching while the anesthetic is still in effect. Sasha watches him, wheezing through his stuffy nose, mesmerized by it as he stitches up the hole, starting with the left and ending with the right, both sides, it takes sixteen stitches in total, eight for both hands, four for front and back.

When he's done with that, the Warden finishes with the bandages, wrapping them firmly around his hands and fingers, immobilizing them, and wraps them up all nice and snug, in thick long bandage wraps.

"Alright, the hard parts all done, you were very good." He reaches up to rub his thumb over the boy's cheek. "Very brave, dragonfly." He reaches back into the kit for another syringe. "Now all that's left is some pain relief, it's long lasting, we'll do this a few times for the next couple of days until the pain starts to subside on it's own." Sasha whines again, as he straightens out his arm and sticks the needle in, pumping the pain-relieving agent into his vein. True to his word, it works quick, the pain dulls to a smarting throb which dulls into numbness.

Thaddeus cleans his mess up and shoves the box under the cot with his foot, leaning forward on his knees. "Are you feeling sick, still?"

The boy shakes his head.

"Do you want a drink of water?"

He nods, and the Warden turns, sliding over to his desk for the jug and a glass, and slides back over, filling the cup halfway, setting the pitcher at his feet, and leans forward with the glass. He lifts the back of his head lightly, easing him up slightly, and holds the glass up to his lips. Sasha sips it slowly, and there's no rush, he can move at his own pace.

"I'm going to move you somewhere more comfortable, okay?"

Sasha nods again, and he set the glass down next to the pitcher and leans forward, sliding an arm under his knees and the other around his shoulders, and he lifts him from the cot, careful not to knock his cloak off. He carries him out of his office and around the corner, to the stairs, and up to his quarters above them. The boy dozes off slightly on his shoulder, his bulky hands curled inwards slightly, against his chest.

He closes the door behind him, after entering, with his heel, and crosses the room to set the boy down on his bed. Tucking him in gently, he crosses over to stoke the fire up again, snow piling up outside his window, before returning to his side, sitting on the edge of his bed, he strokes a knuckle over his cheek.

"What you did was extremely foolish." He smiles rubbing his cheek still. "But I really thank you for it."

"C'ldn' let 'im g't 'ou." He stumbles over his words, the medicine he gave him is making him quite drowsy, he blinks lightly, his eyes fluttering. "C'n't lose 'ou 'oo."

"Oh, dragonfly," he sighs sadly, stroking a finger down the bridge of his nose, nodding in understanding. "I'm quite hard to get rid of. I'm not going anywhere any time soon." It was true, this wouldn't have been the first prisoner to have stabbed him in the back, there's been a number, he's built tough, as such a job requires, he houses a number of quite dangerous beings. "Rest assured, I'm not going to leave you so easily."

"Y'o di' on'e."

He frowns lightly, that much was true, he had left him once. Not by his own volition, but it had happened, and here he was now working to make up for that. "And, it's something that will never happen again." He rubs over his cheek again, this time with his finger, and smiles down at him. "Like I said, I do thank you for what you did, but don't you _ever _do it again. I can take a few stab wounds. I'm built tough. You, you should not have to."

"Do a'ain."

"No, you will not." He caresses his cheek lightly, stroking it with his thumb. "Not while I'm around, and most certainly not when Nis finds out."

"D'n't t'll p'pa."

"Oh, I'm going to have to tell him, if someone else hasn't already."

Sasha yawns widely, rubbing at his eyes with his bulky bandaged hands, and he smiles at the sight.

"You get some sleep; I'll wake you up in a bit for some supper."

"S'ee'y."

"I know you are, get some sleep, I'll be here when you wake up."

He rests for about an hour, sighing in content when the Warden finally toes his boots off and climbs in beside him, pulling him close to rest against him, and he settles down to read a book over his head as the young angel curls around him in his sleep. Someone knocking at his door interrupts the silence, and he calls out softly for them to enter, the door's pushed open slightly and a head pokes in.

A long braid hanging over his shoulder, Nisroc appears there, he smiles at him, he knew someone would have told the Power about his charge. He smiles at him in greeting, stepping in quick in order for him to close the door, not wanting to let the heat out. He frowns at the sight of his boy's hands, crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed, Thaddeus closes his book to take the two bowls he holds out to him, watching silently as he reaches out for one of his small hands.

"What happened to the one responsible?" Nisroc raises the hand up, pressing his lips to the back of it, over the bandages.

Thaddeus, having set the bowls down in his lap, strokes his fingers through the young angel's curls. "In Solitary. Where he'll stay."

The Power nods firmly, setting the hand back over the Warden's chest carefully. "Good." He nods to the two bowls. "Stew. Nothing better on a cold winter's night."

"Oh boy, thanks," he uncovers one of the bowls and lifts it to sniff lightly. "I love your stew." He passes him the second bowl. "Let's wake him up, he hasn't eaten since breakfast this morning. Be mindful with how much you feed him, though he hasn't since, he did get sick earlier today."

"Noted." The Captain sets the bowl next to him and reaches out, stroking the boy's cheek lightly, Sasha's face scrunches up slightly and he nuzzles deeper into the Warden's side lightly. "Doodlebug, wake up, papa's here."

His nose scrunches up again and he turns slightly, eyes fluttering open softly. "Mmm…papa…."

Nisroc smiles at him, rubbing his cheek again. "That's right, papa's here, I heard you had a bit of a rough day."

"Mhmm…h'nds….."

"So I heard," he pokes him on the nose lightly. "What you did was very foolish but also very commendable. I'm proud, but don't you ever do it again."

Sasha nods lightly. "T'ddy sa'd no-no."

"That's right." He lifts the bowl up for him to see. "I brought you some supper." The boy eyes the bowl carefully. "I made stew." And, he chuckles when he opens his mouth expectantly. Pulling the cover off, he picks up a small spoonful and slides it into his open mouth. He hums in delight, chewing softly at his mouthful, and swallows, before opening his mouth again.

He finishes the bowl in about twenty minutes, he's still half asleep, and cuddles back down into the Warden's side when he's full, dozing off again, sound asleep in minutes.

Thaddeus smiles down at him, passing his empty bowl to the Captain on the edge od his bed, and pets his fingers through the boys curls again. "I'll watch over him."

"I know you will." Nisroc leans in, kissing the boy on the head, and then leans in even more, kissing the Warden on the side of the head. "I have two guards posted outside your door, just in case, I'm not taking any chances."

He nods in understanding. "Good, I've made some changes to the Solitary Block, it's under lock and key, only one way in and one way out."

"Good." He stands, intending to let them alone for the rest of the night, he knew his boy was in good hands, the youth with the Warden, and the Warden with the guards. "If I ever see him, I'm going to rip him to pieces."

"Then I'll make sure you never see him, mama bear."

"Call me _'mama bear' _again," he points at him warningly. "And, I'll show you a _'mama bear'_."


	203. Making It All Better

"Alright, left leg in." He grumbles as the Power helps him into his trousers, seated on the edge of the Warden's bed, he hadn't left Thaddeus's side since that day, a week ago, as though to guard him from any other possible attacks. Neither elders minded, Nisroc showed up every morning with a change of close and his boots, and he slept in one of Thaddeus's tunics at night, cuddled under his cloak, curled around him, wrapped up in his arms.

They knew there was also a secondary reason to his clinginess towards the Warden, the poor boy had lost both of his guardians, one at the hands of a monster who turned him into a monster and the other to the end of an enemy's sword. He'd lost so much in his short life, faced so much, and he came out of it seemingly in one piece, but this, this seemed to be the tipping point, he didn't come out of this one in one piece. This time he had enough, his mind came up with the conclusion that if he was there, glued to their side, he could prevent them from being taken again.

Thaddy's memory was still fuzzy passed certain points, though it was slowly coming back to him, but Sasha remembered. That wasn't the first attempt on the Warden's life, the first time someone had tried to attack him, he remembered being a small fledgling, curled around him carefully in one of the Infirmary beds after one of the prisoners had managed to overpower the Warden, which was no easy feat in itself, Thaddy was as tough as they came, he was like papa in that way, but he remembers the close calls, he remembers the times that it got just a bit too close to something major, just an inch or two closer and it would have been fatal. He had been really young, but he remembers, he remembers being carried in the Healer's arms as the Warden lay as still as death in one of the beds, being set down to lay beside him when it was time for bed, he remember holding his hand, clutching it to his chest, crying softly, begging him to be okay and to wake up and come back and play with him. He remembers the way he used to sob when his guardian, his Taddy, would open his eyes and promise him that everything would be okay, he remembers climbing up onto his chest, despite the pain it must have caused him for him to do so, because the Warden wanted to comfort the tears away and hold him close. He remembers seeing the scars that marred his chest and back, the red lines, the stitches keeping the skin closed together, he remembers it all. He remembers the close calls, almost losing him, sitting tearfully on the bed next to him as the healers worked frantically to save him, being guided away so he didn't have to watch him lay there, on the edge of life and death, choking on his own blood, he remembers sobbing into the Healer's shoulder, watching over his shoulder anyway, despite his attempts to keep it from him, as they pumped Taddy's chest. He remembers it all, every last piece, it will never leave him, never, it was stained deeply in his memory.

He'd had a guard escort when he was young, he wasn't allowed to wander alone, because although the cells were secure for the most part, nothing was perfect, they had those who managed to get themselves free who shouldn't be, and he was to be protected at all costs, so he'd had a guard with him at all times, being raised in the Prison, it was a dangerous place for a fledgling, but Taddy made it safe for him, he did his best, no one ever got close enough to him to touch him. The guard who watched over him had been a part of the elite force, the ones that broke up the fights that broke out and did the extractions, who took charge over those in Solitary, he'd been trained by Titus himself, being trained by a _Power _directly gave you a certain advantage in skill set, he was a top fighter, could handle himself well, and took caution when he was wandering around with the Warden's fledgling. He stayed with him until he returned to the Warden's side at day's end.

"Good, good," he holds open the other pant leg. "Right leg now."

Sasha huffs again as he steps into the pant leg, standing carefully to allow the Captain to pull his trousers up and button them in place, and then falls back to sit on the edge of the bed, grumbling to himself, he turns away from them, curling back into the pillow. He'd been grumbling and pouting since the pain had faded to a dull throb, only when his hands were jostled too much, because he couldn't do anything on his own with his hands wrapped up in thick bulky bandages.

He hears a soft chuckling from the desk just a few paces away, and turns to glare at the Warden over his shoulder, he winks at him in amusement and turns to the Power, who's holding his tunic up, ready to help him into it.

"I think we should hold off on the tunic."

Nisroc turns to look at him with a raised eyebrow. "Thaddy, it's the middle of winter, he can't wander around shirtless, he'll catch a cold."

"He'll be fine in here shirtless, it's nice and toasty." Thaddeus waves away the statement. "I _think _there's something more important to tend to."

The Power sighs, folding the tunic up slightly and tossing it to rest on the cleared desk top, he was right, so long as he stayed in here, he was fine to go topless. "Oh, and what might that be?"

"I think our dear boy needs to be cheered up." The Warden turns his attention back to the boy in question, meeting his eyes, he smiles at him mischievously. "He's been all grumbly and pouty all week. I think we should do something about that."

Nisroc smiles, turning to look back at his youngest charge, Sasha looks between the two of the carefully, not sure if he's liking the way they're looking at him like that. "I agree, Thaddy, I think our boy _does _need cheered up."

The Warden nods lightly, pushing himself to his feet, and they close in on him. Sasha scoots away, towards the other end of the bed, as they approach him, but fingers catch him by the ankles and tug him back, securing him in the middle, they climb up on either side. Nis to his left, Thaddy to his right, and come to rest beside him. He looks between them cautiously, trapped between a rock and a hard place, he smiles slightly. "I—I'm okay."

"I don't think you are."

"I must agree."

He gulps lightly. "I—It's fine, r—really."

Thaddeus smiles down at him, shaking his head lightly. "I don't think so." He looks up at the Power across from him. "Nis, can you think of any way we can cheer our little guy up."

The Power rubs at his beard lightly, as though deep in thought, and nods playfully. "I can think of a few ways, let's start with the first," he curls his fingers around his wrist carefully, mindful of his hand, and slowly lifts his arm above his head, Thaddy smiles and follows suit. "Oh, what have we here?" They both look down at his bare armpits with interest. Thaddy pokes a finger into his armpit and the boy _'eeps' _and bites his lip to keep his giggles back. "I believe this is called a _'happy button'_."

"Oh, a _'happy button'_ you say, tell me Thaddy," Sasha turns to look at his papa, eyes wide, they're playing with him, he knows they are, having a conversation like this above his head, with him in this position. "How does such a thing work?"

"Oh, very good question, my dearest friend, let me show you how such a thing works. Let me dust it off first, clean it up a bit." He flutters his fingers over his right armpit, and the boy shrieks, tugging at his arm desperately, laughing freely, twisting up onto his left side as much as he can. "Ahahahahhaaahahhahaha! Tahahahahhahaaddyyyy! Hahahahahahhahahaha!" Thaddeus wiggles a finger into the hollow of his armpit, and he shrieks again. "Oh, there's a particularly stubborn spot, let me get it."

"Yes, yes, we can't have a dirty happy button, be sure to get that spot."

"I'm working on it, it's being particularly stubborn, give me a moment."

"Take your time, there's no rush, I have nowhere to be."

The Warden nods in appreciation. "I've just about got it."

Sasha shakes his head, trying to twist away from him, papa chuckles softly and pushes him back down with his free hand pressed against his chest. "Ahahahahhahahahahhaha hahahahhahahahahaha! Thahahahhahaaddyyy! Ahahahahahahhahahaha! Gehehehehheet ohohohhooouuhuhhuhuhut! Ahahahahahahahaha hehehhehahahahahha!"

"Okay, I got it, all clean." He smiles up at the Power. "Now, let me show you how this _'happy button' _works." He pokes his finger into his armpit and the boy '_eeps' _brightly with every poke. "You just have to poke it, like this."

Nisroc hums. "Oh, I think I like this _'happy button'_." He reaches up with his free hand. "Let me give it a try."

Thaddeus nods, pulling his finger away after one final poke. "Of course, be sure to dust it off, it's mighty dirty."

"Of course," he flutters his fingers over his left armpit, and the boy shrieks again, bright and happy, the grumbles and pout completely forgotten. "I must clean it off."

"Aahahahahahahhaahaaa! Pahahahhaahapapahahahahhaha! Nohohohohoho! Ahahahhahaha hahahahahahhaa! Ahahahahhaa hahahahhahaha!"

"Oh, there's a spot here too." Sasha shrieks brightly when he wiggles a finger into the hollow of his left armpit. "Let me get it."

"Eieieiehahahahahahhha! Pahahahhhaapapahahahhahaha! Ahahahahahahahha ahahahahahahahha!"

"Almost got it, just a bit more."

"Nohohhohoho mohhohohohore! Ahahahahhahah hahahahhaaha! Gehehehhet ihihihihiit ohohohhoohuhuhuhuut! Ahahhahhahhaha hahahahahhahaha!"

"Thaddy, I've got a grand idea," he looks up at the Warden, speaking over the youngling's laughter, and the younger angel turns to look at him curiously. "Why don't we push the _'happy button' _together?"

"Oh, Nis, what a wonderful idea, should we clean them off again?"

He nods. "Perhaps, they may have gotten dusty again."

"Very true, very true."

The both position their fingers over his armpits, and he looks between the two of them frantically, he doesn't think he likes where this is going, they smile down at him, then to each other, and begin fluttering their fingers over his armpits. He squeals brightly, kicking his legs desperately, they chuckle softly, curling a leg over his, holding him in place. "Eieieieieaeaahahahahhahahahahah! EIeieihaahahahhaha! Nohohhohohoho! Ahhahahahhahahahha! Eieiiaiahahahahahahhahaa! Stohohohhoohop! Nohohohohooohot thahahhahahahat! Nohohohohot fluuhuhuhuhutters! Aaahahahhahahahaha!"

"Oh know, that spots back." They both wiggle a finger into the hollows of his armpits, and he shrieks again, throwing his head back in mad laughter, tugging weakly at his arms above his head. "We need to scratch it off again."

"Ahahahaha hahahahhahahahaha ahahahahahahhahaa! Noohohohohohohohoo ahahhahahahhahahha! No! Stohhhohoohohohoop! Hahahahhahahahhaha! Nohohohohohot thahahahahaahahahahat! Ahahahahahahhahaha! Paahahahahahahappapahahahahhaha! Thahhaahahahahhaadddyyy! Ahhahahahahahhaha stohohhohohohooopppp!"

"I think we got it," they pull their fingers away slightly as they make a show of checking, and he inhales frantically, his chest heaving from the attack. "Now, we can poke our _'happy buttons'." _They both poke into his armpits and he shrieks, squeaking with each poke, twisting and squirming from side to side, trying to evade them, to no avail.

"Eieieieieieie! Ahahahahahhahahaha! Eheheheheheheee! Eieieieieieeee! Ahaahahhahaha! Nohohhohohoho! Noohohohohoh pohohhohohooking! Ahahahahhahahhahaa! Eieieieieieie! Hehehehehehee!"

"Oh, look at them go," Thaddeus wiggles his finger a bit. "The _'happy button' _really works."

Nisroc pulls away. "I want to see what happens when I blow on my _'happy button'_."

"Oh, good idea," the Warden looks up at the Captain. "Together?"

He nods. "Together."

Sasha's eyes widen and he shakes his head frantically, he knows all about those, those are their favorite things. It kills him every single time. "No! No! Not those! Nohoho! Get away! Stay away! Nooohohoho!"

They both duck down, take a deep breath, and bury their faces into his armpits. He holds his breath in anticipation, giggles pouring over his clenched lips, looking between both of them frantically. His eyes are wide as he looks between them, shaking his head, not those, anything but those.

Then they blow.

"EIEEIIEIAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHHAHAHAAAHAHHAHA! NOOHHOHOHOT THOOOSE!"

"Oh, wow, that is something, let's test that again."

They take another deep breath.

"NO! EIEIEIIAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHA! STOHHOHOHOOOP! NOHOHOHOHOHOOO! EEIEIEIHAHAAHAHAHHHAHAHA! EEIAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! THAHAHAHHAHAHAADDYYY! PAHAHAHAAPPAPAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Oh, Nis," Thaddeus pulls away from his armpit. "I think I like blowing on the button more then poking it."

Papa pulls back next. "I think I do too. But there's another _'happy button' _that I know of, do you want me to show you?"

"Why, sure, it would be an honor, Nis."

"Of course, my dearest Thaddy, it's right down here." He slides down, letting go of the boy's wrist, and he breaths a sigh of relief when he does, and immediately takes it back when he settles down against his side. "Oh, look at this, it's a bit dusty too, let me clear it up a bit." He wiggles his fingers into the boy's side and he shrieks again, twisting up onto his side, Thaddeus smiles down at him, chuckling lightly, and pushes him down gently with a hand pressed to his chest. "Almost done." He wiggles his fingers up and down his side, and the boy rocks from side to side, as best as he can with Thaddy's hand pressed to his chest. "There we go, all better now. This button you have to blow on for it to work."

"Oh, really," Thaddeus slides down too. "Care to give me a demonstration?"

"Why, I would love to, just like this." He takes a deep breath, tilts his head, and buries his face in the younglings side. Sasha takes a deep breath, waiting on a fine edge, the anticipation is killing him, papa and Thaddy are monsters. "EEIIAAIAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAAA! PAHAHAHAHHAHAAPAPAAHAHAHHAHHAHA! AHAHAHAHAHAHA AIEIEIEIEAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA! NOHHOHOHOOHOOOO! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! EEIEIAAAIAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHAHA!"

"Oh, I like this new button, let me give mine a try." Thaddeus leans down towards his side, takes a deep breath, and buries his face in. The boy giggles frantically in anticipation, he can't use his hands to push against them, so he finds something else to do with them, curling them into his chest as he giggles hysterically. He waits tensely, any moment, it will come any moment. "EIEIIEAIAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA! THAHAHAHAHHAHAADDYYYYY! AHAHAHHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! EIEIEIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! NOHOHHOHOHOHO! AHAHAHAHHAHA AHAHHAHAHAHAHA! EEIEIEIAHAHAHAHHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAAHAHAHHAAAA! DAAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAADDDAAAAHHAHAHAHAHHADDYHYHYHYYYYY! DADDY!"

Thaddy pulls away, leaning up to stare at him, and he giggles breathlessly, Nisroc smiles at them, resting his chin on his palm, just watching them have their moment. "Did you…. Did you just call me _'daddy'_?"

Sasha giggles breathlessly, smiling up at him, and the Warden smiles back, absolutely beaming, and leans in to press a kiss to his cheek, then to his forehead. "I think he's cheered up, Nis."

"I agree, I think we've cheered him up rather nicely." He leans up slightly, whispering something in the boy's ear, Thaddeus watches them with a raised eyebrow, leaning on his elbow. Sasha giggles softly and nods, curling over on his left side, his hands tucked safely against his chest, giggling softly as Nisroc leans over him, yanking the Warden across his side, Thaddeus yelps as he's yanked over. "I think my other boy needs some cheering up."

"What! No, I don't!" He rolls over the boy between them, landing over top the Captain's chest, and squirms to try and get himself released from his ironclad grip. "I'm in a great mood!"

"I don't think so." Nisroc curls around him, his arms winding around his middle tightly, and leans in close. "Don't worry, Nissy can help."

"But I don't need help! No! Wait! Wahahahahaait!" He shrieks when the Power buries his face into the side of his neck, nibbling in gently, rubbing his beard in, and fingers begin to assault his ribs. He scrambles, cackling madly, kicking out and pushing at the Power's grip around him. "Nihihihhihihihis! Nohhohoho! Ahahahahahahhahaha! Stoohhohohohhoop! Ahahahahahaahahaaha!" He spreads out, pushing upwards with his hands and feet, and the Captain's arms move, his fingers curling around his hips and they squeeze in, the younger angel in his captivity shrieks loudly and drops, shimmying this way and that, trying to knock the fingers off, he doesn't succeed, and he cackles with laughter, his feet kicking once more.

Sasha giggles softly as he watches the Warden get a small taste of his own medicine, it's not often he gets what he gives out, but Nis will take anyone he wants. He just watches for a moment, letting it happen, and gives it about five minutes, before he tugs on the side of the Captain's tunic. He pulls his face out of the Warden's neck and turns to look down at him, the angel in his arms falls limp, giggling breathlessly still, laying flat against him, his head pressing against the crook of his shoulder.

"Yes, little one?"

"Papa, can we cuddle now?" He smiles up at him sweetly. "You, me, and daddy?"

"Sure, we can, baby boy." He presses a kiss on the side of the Warden's head and sits up, depositing him on the boy's other side, Thaddeus giggles softly, still, and curls around the boy's side, curling his arms around his waist, pulling him against him. Sasha smiles lightly, tucking his head under his chin, turning on his side, he presses the back of his head against the Warden's chest. He reaches out with his bandaged hands for his papa, and Nisroc gives him his right hand, having turned on his side, facing him, and allows him to curl his hand up against his chest, he rubs his pointer finger up over the curve of his jaw as the boy tucks his hand up under his chin.

"We know it frustrates you, little one, not being able to do anything on your own." He rubs a finger up under the boy's chin. "But you can't do too much with your hands until they've healed."

Sasha looks away, down to the blankets, his bare chest. "I know, papa…... I just don't want to be a burden to you and daddy."

Thaddeus kisses the side of his head lightly. "You could never be a burden, dragonfly, we don't mind taking care of you." He rubs his nose behind his ear lightly. "I missed out on so much while you were young, taking care of you now, it's like I'm getting a second chance to do it all over again."

He turns to look up at him, and his daddy smiles down at him, rubbing their noses together. "You mean it?"

The Warden nods. "I do. I love taking care of you. You're my little dragonfly." He rubs their noses together again. "You could never be a burden to me."

He turns to the Power. "You too, papa?"

"Me too, baby boy." He rubs under his chin again. "You could never be a burden to me."

Sasha smiles at him, he returns it in kind, and cuddles back against the Warden, pulling the Power closer by the hand. "I love you, papa." He turns his head slightly. "I love you, daddy."

Thaddeus kisses the back of his head lightly. "I love you too, dragonfly."

Nisroc leans forward and kisses his forehead tenderly. "I love you too, doodlebug." He leans back again. "Take your nap, we'll be here when you wake up."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Cross my heart."

Thaddy reaches down, pulling the blanket up over them, the room may be nice and toasty, but it was still winter, they didn't want their boy getting a cold. "Go to sleep, dragonfly, you could use a nap."


	204. Training Mishaps

When he'd sorted the rows into squadrons, he had pointedly placed _them_ under their youngest Power's command, they needed to know who was in charge of them now, who wasn't going to be subjected to their abuse any longer, he hadn't stopped to think just how volatile their relationship had been, they'd never really been told how they got along, they just knew that there was a definite superiority complex between them, something they were working on presently, and that was one of the reasons he had placed him in charge of their squadron.

It had been his mistake.

It had all come to head on a cool Tuesday afternoon, three weeks after they'd been sorted, watching the squadrons training under their command, standing at his Archangel's side, surveying the rows and partners carefully. Things were going smoothly, Michael was pointing out those that needed extra training, those that were excelling, and he nodded, taking note of those that needed extra teaching and those that could be replaced among the squadrons.

A slight scuffle turned their attention to the far end, the squadron was circled around something, watching and cheering.

Michael raised his eyebrows. "Is that my youngest Power's squadron?"

The Captain nods, grinding his teeth lightly, he doesn't take kindly to skirmishes breaking out on his training field. "It is."

The Archangel raises a hand slightly, gesturing towards the crowd. "Shall we see what the trouble is then?"

Both elders step forward, passed through the rows on their trek to the gathered crowd, the others leaving their squadrons to their captains as they follow their lead, it is not common for fights to break out on their training field, especially when the Archangel was there surveying them. The ones at the back of the crowd turn at their approach, hearing their footsteps over the dirt, and tap those nearest them as they part a path for them to walk down, and the Archangel and Captain walk through the parting crowd with ease to see what was causing such a ruckus.

They come to stand behind the three of them, unnoticed, momentarily, as they were too engrossed in their fighting. One of them is laying in the dirt, clutching at a profusely bleeding nose, a bruise already forming around his left eye. The remaining two are huddled on the ground, one straddling the other as he throws his fist into the others face, time after time, and neither one of them think he would have stopped if they hadn't cleared their throats for their attention.

Michael looks around the crowd gathered around them and raises his hand. "Don't you all have things you should be doing?" They disperse at his inquiry, returning to their training, as he turns his attention back to the three offenders breaking the rules of his training field.

No infighting.

Rule number one.

The three of them turn to look up at him, as he's the one that spoke, and their eyes widen as his eyebrows raise. "This is all very disappointing." He turns to his youngest Power, straddling the other, fist raised mid blow. "I expect better from my Power's, Sablo." He crosses his hands behind his back. "You are dismissed."

Nisroc nods in agreement, stepping away from his side, curling the fingers of his right hand around the scruff of his tunic, he hefts him to his feet. "We are not done. My office. Now."

"But—"

He shakes him firmly. "_Now."_

Sablo glares at his boots, nodding stiffly, and shoves out of his grip, shouldering passed the others, narrowly missing shouldering into the Archangel, Michael was wise enough to step away from his path. He turns though, watching him go, and hums under his breath. "This one's got a fire burning in his belly. I like him." He turns, nodding to his Captain. "I'm going to continue my rounds, I trust you to handle this, Nis."

The Powers Captain nods, turning to the two as they slowly climb to their feet, and he snags them by the collar of their tunics as the Archangel walks off, pulling them in close. "Don't think I don't know who the instigator of this skirmish was." Nisroc looks between the two wide eyed young men. "His orders are coming from me. You disobey his orders, you disobey mine, and I _don't _have my orders _disobeyed_." He turns them around rather forcibly. "You think you two deserved to be Powers, more so then him, then we shall see. If you want to be a Power, then you will train like one." He shoves them towards Abraxos. "I want you to _train _these two. They think they deserve to be one of us. So, I want you to train them as if they were."

The younger Power nods, snagging them by the collar, dragging them off to begin their training.

Nisroc heaves a sigh, shaking his head to clear his mind, and his medic steps up to his side. "Take it easy on him, Nis, something clearly happened here."

"Take it _easy _on him!" He turns to glare down at him incredulously. "He _attacked _two of his warriors using _our _training, and you want me to take it _easy _on him!"

"You know our Sablo, Nis, our Baby Power has a heart of gold. He wouldn't have done this unprovoked."

The older Power sighs, rubbing at his forehead lightly, and nods slightly. "You're right. I know you are. But, I can't let this go unreprimanded."

"I'm not saying you have to, I most certainly wouldn't, all I'm saying it to find out what pushed him over that edge."

…

He does not expect the book to com flying at him when he opens his office door, but his reflexes are as sharp as ever, and he ducks quick enough that it goes flying over his head and slams into the wall behind him. He turns quickly, pointing a finger at the younger angel, whose hand is cocked back, loaded with another book, and prepared to throw it. "You throw that book at me and I'll tan you like you've never been tanned before."

Despite his compromised judgement and upset, Sablo takes that warning to heart, and drops the book on the older Power's desk. "You knew they'd be like that! You _knew_ they would!"

"Be like what?" He steps into his office, closing the door behind him, and raises his hands placatingly. "What happened out there, Sab, that's not like you."

"I couldn't _take _it anymore!" He throws his hands up, curling his fingers in his curls, tugging on them desperately. "I couldn't _take _it! It's been nonstop! Three weeks _nonstop_!" He looks up at him with wide wild eyes, clutching at his curls tightly. "_I'm _the Power! I worked _hard _for it! I _made _it! I _earned _it! This is not _temporary_! I am not a _joke_! I am not a _charity case_! I am not being _humored_! I will not _step down_!" He takes a deep shaky breath. "_And, I will not go kill myself!"_

His mind goes blank for a moment. "_What?"_

Sablo pulls at his curls harshly. "I couldn't _take _it anymore, Nis! I _couldn't_! They wouldn't _shut up_! They wouldn't _stop_! I couldn't _take _it!" Tears well in his eyes, he's the sight of a boy who can't take much more, who has finally hit their end, taken as much as they can. "I don't _care _anymore! I _know _I've never been good enough! I _know _I've always been the _runt _of the litter! I _know _I'm not worth it!" He stares up at him, the Power's slightly alarmed, slightly shocked, his mind still mulling around what he shouted just a minute ago, that they had gone so far as to tell him to do _that_. "It's _always _been that way! _Ignored! Forgotten! Neglected! Bullied! Appeased into silence! Pushed into the background! Ignored! Alone! It's always like that_! I don't _care_! If they want to be Powers so bad, then let them! Give them _my _place! I'll _give _it to them! Just make them _stop_!" Tears finally stream down his face, falling like shooting stars from his eyes, and he chokes on a breath, his voice cracking miserably. "I _can't _take it anymore! _I can't take it_! Make them _stop! Make them leave me alone_!"

He breaks then, breathing out a sob, tugging at his curls again, as fingers untangle his fingers from his hair and arms curl around him, as he's pulled into warm embrace, into a warm firm chest, firm but soft, fingers tangle in the curls on the back of his head as the hand presses him into his chest. He sobs, his shoulders quaking, his chest heaving from the force, sobs into the chest he's pressed against, arms worms around the large solid form, fingers clutching at the back of his tunic tightly, his knuckles pop, their as white as snow, from the strain of his grip.

The older Power doesn't breath a word, not yet, he just stands there, holding the youth to him as close as he can, letting him break in his arms, protected from the world around them, he just holds him as close as he can, as tight as he can, swaying slightly from side to side.

"_Make them stop, Nis!" _He breaths out between his sobs. _"Make them stop!"_

"I will, my boy." He presses his lips to the top of his head. "I will." He rubs his hand down the back of his head, tangling his fingers between his curls, scratching at his scalp lightly. "You _did _earn your place, Baby Power, and _no one _will take that from you. You _are _one of us and you _always _will be. We will _stand _for you, Baby Power, we protect _our _own_, _and you are _ours_." He kisses the top of his head again. "You are _not _alone, anymore. _We_ will not _allow _anyone to bully you. _We _are not _appeasing _you and you are _not _a charity case." He curls around the boy, holding him close and tight. "And, you are not the _runt, _you are the _Baby, _and _we _take care of _our _babies." He takes a breath, pressing his lips together tightly, shaking his head firmly, this was his mistake, an extremely wrong mistake. "You will not have to deal with them anymore. I will take care of them. I'll make sure they never bother you again. It was wrong of me to place them under you, I don't know what I was thinking, clearly I wasn't thinking clearly."

The boy's sobs fade to soft hiccups, as he presses himself under the Captain's chin, wheezing softly as his lungs begin to fill, demanding air faster then he can supply them.

Nisroc hums softly, rubbing his back gently as he pulls him back slightly, holding onto his shoulders firmly, he looks him over. Red faced, swollen eyes, wet nose, he looks miserable, the picture of a person who was finally pushed passed their breaking point, and he moves his hands, caressing his cheeks as he wipes the tear tracks away with his thumbs, holding his cheeks to keep him from looking away. "Sablo, why didn't you tell me they were baiting you?"

He hiccups softly. "I..I didn't want you think I wasn't strong enough to handle it. I'm a _Power, _and I should be stronger then that, tougher, and I didn't want you to think I wasn't."

"Sablo," he shakes his head lightly. "I know just how strong you are, just how tough you are, that's why I gave you your own squadron, because I knew you were ready for it." He shakes his head again when the boy opens his mouth to respond. "_But _that doesn't mean that I expect you to subject yourself to that kind of _abuse_. You _do not _have to handle that on your own. As your Captain, it is my job to make sure you are as safe from harm as you can be, if someone is baiting you, I need to know so I can deal with it. You don't have to prove yourself to me by taking it on, on your own. That is not something I expect you to deal with on your own, I expect you to come to me, I need to know these things, because they are unacceptable, and I have no place in my ranks for that kind of abuse. Do you understand?"

Sablo nods silently, hiccupping again, and the oldest Power pulls him back into his embrace, letting the boy curl around him again.

He rubs at the back of his head soothingly. "You are dismissed from your duties for the rest of this week. You can return on Monday of next week." He feels the boy stiffen and he scratches at his scalp softly. "You are not being punished, it is not a punishment, I think after all the abuse you've suffered that you could use a good rest. Time to recuperate and mend. That's what you will do for the remainder of this week."

"Alone?"

The Captain shakes his head, leaning in to kiss him on the top of the head again. "No, you will never be alone again, I will stay with you. I will join you after I deal with _them_." He rubs at his shoulders lightly. "But you, you will go upstairs, get yourself cleaned up, into something more comfortable, and climb into my bed. Abraxas is in her room, if you do not want to be alone waiting for me there, she will be glad to come stay with you until I arrive. When I am done, I will come upstairs, I will make us lunch, and then we will rest together."

Sablo licks his lips and nods lightly. "Can….Can I wear one of your tunics?"

He chuckles softly and nods, kissing the top of his head again. "Yes, you can wear one of my tunics." He pulls him away, after one final gentle squeeze, and holds him by the cheeks again. "Go, I will be up shortly, alright?"

The boy nods again, and he turns him around, urging him towards the door, waiting for him to disappear around the corner before heaving a deep sigh and brushing the stray pieces of hair back.

Nodding to himself, he steps forward, turning first to the right, this is something he thinks his Archangel should be made aware of.


	205. The Aftermath Of Our Actions

"They told him to _what_?"

His archangel had the same alarmed reaction that he had when he'd told him about their baiting the youngest Power, it was something that was taken very seriously, there was never known to be any leniency for those who did such a thing.

Michael shakes his head. "Where is he now?"

"I sent him upstairs." Nisroc tugs lightly on the braid over his shoulder before tossing it back. "He's waiting for me in my room."

"Good, good, and he is the one with the history of self-harming?"

"Correct."

Michael nods lightly. "I don't want him to be alone for the time being, there's no telling what sort of damage their constant abuse has caused, he is to be monitored constantly."

He nods. "I gave him until Monday of next week off."

"Very good," the Archangel rubs at his chin thoughtfully. "Give him to the following Monday. He needs time to recover. I want you to stay with him, he clearly trusts you the most, you are dismissed of your duties until he returns."

"Thank you, I don't want to leave him with anyone else." The Captain rubs at his beard lightly. "What are we going to do with _them_?"

Michael hums lightly, leaning forward on his elbows. "We will leave them to train with Abraxos for right now, he is fond of the boy, he will not go easy on them." He nods to himself lightly. "I will deal with the fallout of this behavior, you're too fond of the boy, your judgement may be compromised. Though what they did is unacceptable, they still deserve to be treated fairly, so I will deal with them myself." He shakes his head softly. "I reprimanded him for something that was out of his control." He presses his fingers to his forehead. "What he must think of me now." He looks up to his trusted friend. "I will be up later to apologize and see how he is doing."

"He may be asleep when you do," Nisroc adjusts his position lightly. "I intend to put him to sleep."

"Don't let my coming put a stop to that, after what you say happened with him, with his breakdown just minutes earlier, he could use a good rest. If he is asleep when I come, then I will return later when he is not." He nods to himself. "But I will apologize for my jump to judgement. There is no fault to be had where he's concerned, after all he was dealing with, I can't say I wouldn't have reacted in the same manner." The Archangel waves him away. "Go, tend to your boy, I will take things from here."

The Power thanks him softly and makes his leave, shaking his head as he makes his way down the hall and turns up the stairs to the Pavilion above, he was still wrapping his mind around everything, it had all happened so fast, he should have known, he should have seen some sort of sign, Sablo had been a bit more withdrawn from them, but they had all assumed it was just from the stress of commanding his own squadron for the first time, he regrets that assumption now.

Stepping up over the final stair, he heads his way to the kitchenette, he had said he would prepare lunch, and he did so with haste, he'd already had to wait long enough and he wouldn't make him wait very much longer. Putting together some chicken salad sandwiches, crisps, and two large glasses of cool water, he set his cargo on a small tray and made his way down the hall towards his room. He took note of Abraxas's door being open, but there was noise coming from within, so he knew she was still in there.

Turning the corner into his room, he smiles sadly at the sight of the poor boy, curled under his blankets, a small mound on the left side of the bed, the only thing visible of him was his tufts of curls. He walks over to his side of the bed quietly and sets the tray down on the side table, sitting on the edge of the bed, he reaches out to run his fingers through the silky curls.

"Bambino," he keeps his tone soft. "Are you awake?"

The mound shifts, and a set of eyes peer out from under the blankets, he smiles comfortingly and reaches up to pull the blankets down slightly. "Sit on up, Baby Power, I've got lunch."

Sablo sits up, leaning back against the pillows, and he passes him his plate. The young Power thanks him softly and picks up a crisp to eat first. Patting his cheek softly, he stands from the edge of the bed, crossing over the distance to the Wardrobe, and opens the door. Pulling off his used tunic, he reaches in for a clean one and pulls it over his head, then he kneels to untie the laces of his boots and toes them off, once he's done, he returns to his bedside, takes his own plate and glass and crosses over to the other side, climbing in next to the younger Power.

The Baby Power finishes his meal first, leaning over to set the plate on the tray, he gulps down his water, and curls back under the blankets once he's finished. He finishes off his sandwich shortly after, and leans over him to set his empty plate and glass on the tray with the other dishes, before settling down against the pillows.

He reaches under the blanket and tugs softly at one of those small ears. "Come here, bambino, come here." The boys scoots closer, poking his head out from under the blankets to lay it on his chest, and curls in close to his side. He wraps his arm down around him and presses him closer, pressing a kiss to the top of his head lightly, he rubs at his back gently. "Everything's going to be okay, I'll take care of everything, you just clear your mind and rest."

Sablo licks his lips softly, turning to look up at him. "Nis, you're _really _not just trying to appease me?"

"No, bambino, I'm not." He kisses him on the forehead. "I happen to be very fond of you, you're one of my boys."

"One of your boys?"

"Yes," he nods. "If you were a youngling still, I'd take in you in as my charge, without any sort of hesitation. I adore you, bambino, too much so then to just try to appease you."

The younger angel blinks. "You would?"

He nods lightly. "I would. I practically already have. The others tease me about it all the time."

"I've never heard them tease you."

He winks. "We try not to do it while you're around. We don't want to overwhelm you."

Sablo sighs softly. "I would have liked it if you were my guardian." And lays his head back down. "You don't pretend I don't exist."

"Hey," The Captain pokes him on the nose. "Just because I can't take you as an official charge doesn't mean I won't treat you any different. You're welcome to come sleep with me anytime you want. I'm always going to be here to give you tickles. I'm always going to ask where you've been when you come in late. And, I'll always be here to take care of you when you need it." He hugs him closer. "I always be here to hold you when you need to be held, to wipe away your tears when they come falling down, I'll always be here to care for you."

"You will?"

"I will." He nods again. "Always."

Sablo smiles, rubbing his cheek over the older Power's chest, and hums in content. He reaches for the older angel's other hand, and he gives it to him, letting him curl it up under his chin. He rubs a finger under his chin lightly. "You should take a nap."

"I'm not tired."

"It would do you some good, I took note of those bags under your eyes, the pallor complexion you hold." Nisroc gives his fingers a gentle squeeze. "You could do with a nap."

He hums softly. "Promise not to leave if I do?"

"Who says I won't take a nap with you?" He rubs his curls lightly with his free hand. "I happen to enjoy taking naps."

Sablo yawns softly, as though his body is trying to prove to him that he is in fact tired, and he rubs at his eyes. "I can't fall asleep like this."

"Then let's get into a position that you can." Nisroc pulls his arms and hands away and turns onto his side, pulling the younger angel into his chest, curling him in his arms, Sablo curls his fingers into the front of his tunic and sighs deeply, pressing his forehead against his chest. "Better?"

"Mhmm."

"Good," he kisses him on the forehead lightly. "Let's take a nap."

"Okay, Nis."


	206. Stealing The Feather

"Oh, just you wait until I catch you!"

He laughs as he turns the corner, skidding around, he almost slides into the open cell across from him, but he catches himself and continues on his journey. He can hear the heavy bootsteps coming up behind him, slowly, it draws closer and closer, and he laughs again, throwing open a cell door to try and delay his pursuer. He hears them curse softly and the cell door get thrown shut, it bangs and rattles, and the chase is back on.

Chancing a glance over his shoulder, he laughs giddily at the distance that seems to be shrinking with every passing moment and pushes himself to run faster.

The Prison is a maze, and in order to get your way around, you had to know the maze and how it worked. Luckily, he was raised here, he knows the maze like he knows the back of his hand. But so, does his pursuer.

He curls his fingers around another corner and throws himself forward, stumbling a bit as he does, almost losing his footing, but he catches himself once more and continues on.

Chancing another glance, his eyebrows furrow when he doesn't spot them, they've disappeared, they were right there a minute ago.

He turns back around and his eyes widen at the sight of the smug smirk, the older angel bends slightly, and because of the sudden change, he doesn't have time to stop himself, not really, he stops his feet, but he slides forward from the momentum, and because of his positioning, he falls over the older angel's shoulder. They stand again, back to their full height, and he watches as the floor seemingly leaves him by miles.

"Bad." A large hand smacks him playfully on the rear as they walk forward. "Taking what doesn't belong to you. Bad, bad Sasha." He squirms slightly, smiling as he looks down to the long sleek feather, he has the fingers of his right hand curled around. The hand smacks his bottom again and he giggles softly. The hand travels down to his thigh and the fingers wiggle in slightly, he shrieks softly and jolts, trying to kick his leg out of their reach. "Now I have to punish you, taking time out of my busy day, the nerve of the young angels these days."

"You weren't busy!"

"I was busy if I say I was busy!" Those fingers wiggle in again and he shrieks again, bracing his hands against the older angel's back.

It had been some time since he'd last heard his laughter ringing through these halls, it used to be a common occurrence and then things changed, and the only thing he heard after that was silence. Nothing but silence. But here it was again, just as beautiful as it was before, a sound that was prettier then any of the voices of the Choir, the sound of laughter, real music, to his ears at least. He never thought he'd get to play with his young ward again, after everything they had been through, Nisroc had replaced him, it had come as a surprise to him when he'd found that his youngest boy had been left in his custody in the event of his untimely demise, he must have just changed those arrangements, there was no way that's how it was before they found out what had been done.

It warmed his heart.

"Thaddy, I can't believe you still have this thing."

"Of course, I do. It's my most prized possession." Sasha tugs at the back of the Warden's tunic lightly. "After you, of course, after you."

"Don't lie to me, Thaddy, I come second fiddle to a feather. If you had to pick between it and me, I bet you'd go for the feather."

"Oh, don't be like that." He pats his thigh lightly, and then a finger scratches at the underside of his knee lightly, he yelps and kicks his leg as best as he can. "You know I'd pick you. I love my feather. But I love you more." He reaches back up and fingers wiggle in his thigh again. "Besides, I don't need the feather to torture you."

"Thahahhaaddy!"

"There it is! That's what I missed the most!" He hums happily, turning his fingers inwards. "Music to my ears."

He stops before the three entrances. "Should we take this to the chamber or to the bed?"

"I don't like the chamber."

"Alrighty," Sasha watches from his hanging position as they take the first stair, and then the next, heading up to the Warden's quarters. "To the bed we go."

He looks over as he kicks open the door, and then up, his eyes widen in surprise. "You hung my pictures back up!"

"Of course, I did," he pats his thigh lightly. "They're wonderful pieces of art."

He crosses into the room easily, smiling to himself in satisfaction. "You shouldn't have run around the place barefoot, dragonfly." He knows the boy's eyes are widening, as his struggles pick up, and he tightens his grip. "Now, we have to clean those feet."

Sasha's eyes did indeed widen, and he kicks, as best as he can, pulling at the waist of the Warden's trousers, trying to pull himself off from over his shoulder. "No! Not that! Anything but that! Daddy! No! That's mean! Not that!"

He whistles softly as he crosses through the room, kicking the door closed behind him, chuckling softly under his breath. No one can stand it. That's why he does it. You better not let him catch you running around barefoot through his prison.

Jahoel does it all the time, he's a cheeky little thing like that, he's a gluten for punishment, that one.

"Where did I put that scrub brush?" He makes a show of looking for it, it's all for affect, he knows exactly where it is, but he gives it a moment before he picks it up.

Sasha pounds against his back desperately, kicking as much as he can, not that, anything but that. "No! Daddy! I'm sorry! Not that! I'll take berries or flutters or wiggles, anything, anything but the scrub brush!"

"Two birds with one stone, I can punish you for running around barefoot, and I can punish you for stealing my feather." He opens the top drawer in his desk. "Here's that scrub brush. Now for our bucket of warm water." He steps away from his desk to the cauldron hanging beside the fire, reaching for the bucket next to it, he scoops up a bucket full of warm water. "Alright, we're all ready, let's get to scrubbing."

Thaddeus turns for the bed, setting the bucket down on the floor at the foot of the bed and the scrub brush on the edge, he bends forward slightly tugging the younger angel up from over his shoulder, and tosses him down on the bed before him. Sasha shrieks as he falls, winding his arms as he tumbles backwards, and immediately begins his attempt at his crawling escape. He yelps when fingers curl around his left ankle and tug him back. "Not so fast, you, we've got to clean those feet."

"Daddy! No! Not that! I won't do it again! Please! Not the brush!"

"What was that?" He sits on the edge of the bed, pulling the small foot around to rest over his thigh, reaching down to dip the scrub brush into the bucket of warm water, he sets to scrubbing at the dirty foot in his lap. "I didn't quite catch what you said."

The boy screams, squealing with laughter, the foot in his lap squirms and wiggles desperately, but it doesn't throw him off. He chuckles lightly as the youth howls, absolutely howls, with bright peels of laughter. Sasha grips at the sheets of the mattress, trying to pull himself forward, and he chuckles again, tugging him back down, scrubbing up to his toes, and he squeals again, kicking at his shoulder with his free foot. "Don't worry, I'll get to that one in just a few moments, first we have to get this one all clean."

"AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAAAAA! DAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAADDYYYHYHYHYHYYYY! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEHHEHE BRUUHHUHUHUHUHUSH! AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA! AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAAAHAHHHHAHAHAHHAHAHA!"

"Oh, I think I missed a spot." He moves down to scrub at the sole and the boy screams with laughter, pounding his fists against the mattress, burying his face into the pillow under him. "Don't worry, I got it."

"AHAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! STOHOHOHOHOHOOOOPPPPP! STOP! BAHAHAHAHAHHAA HAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! EEIEIIEAIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA! NOHOHHOHOHOT THEHHEHEHEHEHEEERRREHEHEHEHHEHE! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA DAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAADDDYHHYHYHYHYHYYYY!"

"Oh, I missed a spot on the toes."

"EIEIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAA HAHAHAHAHAHAH AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! NOHOHOHOHO! AHAHAHAHAHHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHOHOT THHEHEHEHEHEHEH TOOHOHOHESHEHEHEHHEHES! AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA EIEIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Alright, this one's all clean." He lets go of the left foot, and the boy immediately tries to scoot away, but he turns quick, snatching up the right, and pulls it up into his lap. "Now we scrub the right foot." Leaning down, he dips the brush into the bucket of warm water and sets to scrubbing.

Sasha screeches with laughter, curling his arms around his belly as he twists from side to side, trying to tug his foot free, wiggle it out of the Warden's grasp. But he doesn't budge, and he only manages to twist himself over onto his stomach, pounding his fists against the mattress again.

Looking back, Thaddeus smiles, and drops the brush beside him on the bed as he leans back and digs his fingers into the boy's under thigh.

His boy screams again, cackling with mad laughter, pressing his face into the pillow once more. "This is what you get for stealing my feather." He turns his fingers inwards. "This is what you get."

Sasha kicks his leg, trying to twist over again, but the Warden leans back, leaning on his waist, and digs his fingers into his other thigh, double the trouble, more fun for him. "Say you're sorry! Say you're sorry or I'm never stopping!"

"EEIEIIAIAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHA AAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA! I—I'M SOHOHOHOHOHOORRYYY! AHAHAHAHHAHA EEIEIEIAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA! PLEASE! PLEHEHEHHEHEHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHASE! DAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHADDYHYHYHYHYYY! AHAHHAHAHAHHAHA EIEIEIAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAA!"

"Now, say I'm the best daddy in the whole world!"

"AHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHA! YOHOHHOHOHOUUUHUHUHUHUHUR THEHEHEHEHEHE BEEHEHEHEHEHEHHEST DAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHADDDDYYHYHYHYHYHYHY AHAHAHHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAHAHHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHHAHASE!"

"Okay," he pulls back, pulling off his waist and leaning back beside him. "I think you've learned your lesson."

Sasha giggles breathlessly, curling up on his side, rubbing at his thighs in an attempt to rub away the remaining tingles. "Thahat was meheheahhan!"

"Oh, but I'm sure you'll think twice about taking my feather again, won't you?"

The youngling giggles softly. "Prohohobably not."

He chuckles. "I thought as much."

The boy pulls his blankets up over him and collapses against the pillow. "I'm taking a nap."

Thaddeus chuckles again, turning over onto his stomach, he kicks his boots off and climbs up next to him. Collapsing beside him, he curls his arm over his shoulders and pulls him close, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I'll join you."


	207. The Good Old Days

They come running at the sound of the fledgling's scream, two of them tackle the offender as he makes to strike again, wrestling the weapon from his hands. The others crowd around their Warden, the fledgling sitting perched on his stomach, his little hands clutching at the front of his stained tunic, tugging desperately as he sobbed himself hoarse, begging him to wake up again, to come back, not to leave him.

"Chayyliel, take the boy." The head guards steps up, gesturing to the fledgling as him and another gather around the Warden. "We need to get him to the Infirmary."

Chayyliel nods, stepping forward to tug the fledgling up and away, he screams again, kicking and struggling, reaching for the Warden desperately, but the guard holds him tight, pulling him back as the other two heft the unconscious Warden up. Curling one of his arms around their shoulders, they drag him forward, passed the wailing fledgling, down the hall towards the entrance, Chayyliel adjusts his hold on the wailing fledgling and follows after them, watching as the other two drag the prisoner away towards Solitary.

Sasha thrashes in the guards arms, digging his nails into the flesh as hard as he can manage, anything to get him to let go, so he can get back to Thaddy. He screams when the arms tighten around him, kicking as hard has he can muster, Thaddy needs him, he has to help Thaddy, why can't they see that!

They just make it to the Infirmary, two of the Virtues taking the Warden from the two guards, when he sinks his teeth into the guards hand. Chayyliel shouts in surprise, dropping the fledgling to the floor under them, he shakes his hand out as he watches the boy dart forward, ducking under the outstretched hands of healers, passed the two guards standing ahead of him, his only mission was returning to his guardian's side.

"Now, now," no one manages to get passed _him_, the archangel catches him up midstep, tucking him into his arms as he makes his way away from the bed the Warden has been set to rest on. "There's no need to cause such trouble. They can't help with you behaving in such a way."

The boy sits up in his arms, reaching over his shoulder for the angel in the bed. "Taddy! Need Taddy! _Taddy_! _Taddy!_"

"Taddy is in good hands." He bounces the boy slightly, causing him to fall back in his arms, keeping young eyes away from them treating their patient. He doesn't need to see that. "He's going to be alright."

"Taddy!" The boy pushes against his chest as much as he can manage, he's surprisingly strong for such a small fledgling, but the archangel holds firm. "Want Taddy! _Want Taddy!" _He breaks into a sob, giving up on pushing against him, resorting to pounding his fists against the archangels chest instead. "_Waaaaant Taadddyyyyy!"_

"I know you do, little one, I know."

He holds the boy closer when he falls limp, sobbing into his shoulder horridly, clutching at his tunic in two tiny fists.

Someone taps him on the arm, and he turns. "Raph, we've got him mended." He hums, looking over the Virtue's shoulder to glance over the Warden. "He's awake. He was asking about his boy."

Raphael nods, rubbing the fledglings back comfortingly as he sobs into his shoulder. "Thank you, Oren."

The Virtue nods, stepping away to return to what he had been doing before they had arrived, and he made his way across the room to the Warden's side, stepping between the guards posted at his bed, Sasha peeks over and sobs again, reaching for the angel on the bed.

Thaddeus smiles slightly, reaching for the fledgling in turn, Raphael raises an eyebrow at him. "I highly recommend against this."

"I'll….be fine….."

Against his better judgement, and not wanting the boy to get sick from the force of his sobs, he sighs, nodding slightly, and passes the fledgling over to his guardian. Thaddeus curls his fingers around the boy's middle, and he grapples at his arms, the fledgling boy, as he pulls him down. Fingers pull at his sleeves as he draws closer, then latching on to the front of his tunic when he's close enough, the Warden inhales softly at the tugging on his stitches but settles the boy down over him despite the ache. Sasha curls around him, clutching at his tunic tightly, sobbing into his chest feverishly, and he hums, rubbing at his shoulders lightly, scratching soft patterns over his shoulders. The boy slowly starts to settle down, pressed against his guardian's chest, his sobs turn into heaving breaths and then into soft hiccups, his fingers kneading at the Warden's chest softly.

"Taddy…" The boy sniffles miserably, sitting up slightly to look at the Warden. "Taddy, okay?"

"Taddy's just fine, dragonfly." He rubs his cheek lightly, rubbing away the tear tracks with his thumb, using the sleeve of his tunic to rub at his little nose. "There's nothing to be worked up about. I just took a hard knock to the head."

"And, a slight jab to the chest."

He glares at the Healer over the fledglings head. "Don't help."

The archangel chuckles, holding his hands up placatingly, and leaves them be.

"Taddy, be okay?"

He nods, rubbing the boys other cheek clean. "I'm going to be just fine." He tilts his head, caressing the fledglings cheek lightly. "Did you really bite Chayyliel?"

The boy sniffles and nods. "I sorry Taddy."

"It's not me you should be apologizing to."

He sniffles again. "But….But Chayy isn't here anymore."

"Well, when you see him, you should apologize, shouldn't you?"

He smiles when the fledgling nods pitifully, and pulls him back down, Sasha nuzzles against his chest, resting his ear over his heart, and pulls his thumb into his mouth, clutching at the Warden's tunic with his free hand. Fingers scratch at his shoulders, through his curls, and he sighs in content, wheezing softly through his stuffy nose, sucking on his thumb softly.

"There you go, that's it, everything's okay." He rubs a finger over the boy's exposed cheek. "I'm right here."

…

He fills the washing tub with warm water, starting with three buckets of hot water from the cauldron in the fireplace and cooling it with three buckets of cold water, he doesn't want it to be too hot for his little boy. He sets the bucket down on the bench next to the fireplace, next to the scrub brush and wash cloth, towel, and warm pajamas to change into.

Smiling to himself he turns to the fledgling playing quietly at the foot of their bed, running toy cars over a small track, and crosses to kneel behind him, tapping him lightly on the shoulder, the fledgling twists and turns to look up at him, he smiles and leans in to peck his nose just to make him giggle. "Guess what time it is?"

"Story time!"

"No, you little squirt," he pokes him in the belly lightly, it's a chubby little belly, he loves playing with it. "That comes after." He leans over to press their foreheads together. "It's bath time, you stinky little fledgling."

"You stinky!"

"I am not!" He curls his fingers under the boys arms and stands, he shrieks as he does, as the older angel tosses him up, holding him up above his head. "I've already taken my bath, mister, I smell good!"

He curls his little fingers around the Warden's wrists, kicking his little legs lightly. "I smells good too!"

"You do not, you're a stinky little guy, Nis can smell you all the way over at the Pavilion."

"Bath time!"

"There you go," he tosses the fledgling up above his head and he shrieks excitedly, and he catches him in his arms. "You got it." He carries the little fledgling over to the washing tub and holds him out over the water. "Dip your toes in, tell me if it's too hot for you."

Little Sasha nods, reaching out with his foot, dipping his toes in slightly. He shakes his head, looking up to the Warden. "It good."

"Very good, very good." He leans over, lowering the fledgling into the tub, Sasha giggles and splashes his hands over the water lightly. "Let's get you all cleaned up."

Thaddeus slowly lowers himself to sit on his knees as he rolls his sleeves up, and leans over the edge of the tub, crossing his arms over the edge. "So, what are we doing first?"

Sasha looks up at him, sitting shoulder deep in the warm water, and bats his eyes cutely. "Can we do my hair firs'?"

He chuckles. "Oh, don't bat those little eyes at me. Of course, we can do your hair first." He reaches out, poking him in the nose lightly, before turning for the cup sitting next to the bucket on the bench beside them. He dips the cup into the tub. "Close your eyes." Sasha nods, clenching his eyes shut tightly, and he pours the cup full of water over his head, dips the cup back in for more, and repeats those steps until his curls are soaked and matted down. "Keep those eyes closed, I'm getting the soap."

"Okay, Taddy."

He smiles at the firmness in his fledgling's tone, as though this was an important mission, and who knows, maybe it was one to the fledgling, who's he to say what sorts of missions are important and what sorts aren't. He lathers the soap in his hands really good before massaging it into the boy's curls, lathering them up with soapy bubbles, making sure to leave no curls behind. Dipping his hands in the tub to clear the soapy bubbles away, he takes the cup back in hand, curls his left hand over the fledgling's eyes just in case, and begins rinsing his dark curls out. Once the suds are well and truly rinsed away, he wipes the fledglings face off just to be safe and taps him on the nose. "Okay, you can look now."

"All clear?"

"All clear."

Sasha opens his eyes a sliver first, peeking out, as though testing to be sure, and then he opens them completely, smiling up at him. Thaddeus smiles down at him, tapping him on the nose again, and reaches over for both the scrub brush and the wash cloth. "Alright, now which one to we use?" He holds up the brush. "The scrub brush, now this one I think we should use." He holds up the cloth. "Or the boring wash cloth."

The fledgling giggles. "Brush tickles!"

"It does?" He makes an exaggerated face and the little guy shrieks with laughter at the sight of it. "I never would have guessed."

The fledgling points to the wash cloth. "That one!"

Thaddeus pouts lightly. "Are you sure you don't want to use the brush?" He dips his right hand into the tub and squeezes at one of his little feet. "Especially on those little feet."

"No!" He giggles, shaking his head frantically. "No brush!"

He sighs sadly, it's a bit exaggerated, and he smiles when the fledgling giggles again. "Alright, if you're sure, I guess we can use this boring wash cloth." Setting the brush down, he lathers the soap into the wash cloth, wetting it in the tub, and he holds out a hand. "Alright, stand on up." Sasha grabs his hand with both of his and he pulls him up to his feet carefully, standing on his knees slightly to rub at his shoulders and arms, then his belly, he washes his privates, and guides him back down again. "And, we can't forget those feet." The fledgling passes his right foot up first, wiggling his little toes slightly, and he rubs his little foot down, then he reaches for the left and does the same. "Alright, all clean, are you ready to come out?"

The little boy nods, climbing to his feet, his fingers curled around the edge of the tub. He stands himself, it's time for the towel, and scoops the boy up with it. He stands, holding the little boy in his arms, wrapped up snugly in the towel, pressed against his chest. "You smell good now."

"Smell good!"

"You sure do." He puckers his lips up. "Give me a kiss."

Sasha giggles, reaching up to squash his cheeks together, and leans in to kiss him on the lips.

He pats his bottom lightly. "Aww, thanks, baby boy." He reaches down for the boy's warm pajamas and turns for the bed, setting him to stand on the end. "Arms up." Sasha throws his hands up. He chuckles wiggling a finger under his right arm, and the boy shrieks, pulling his arms back down. Gently drying him, then his curls, he pulls the boy's top over his head, then helps him step into his pants.

Turning slightly, he waves a hand at the mess behind him, and it clears away. He loves being an all-powerful angel sometimes.

The fledgling's thumb makes it's way to his mouth as he stands there on the bed, and he smiles, because it's an adorable sight. "Ready for story time?" He nods, reaching up with his free hand, and he scoops the boy up into his arms, and crosses to the side of the bed, sitting and turning to lay against the pillows, he pulls the boy up to rest on his chest, pulls the blankets up over them, and reaches for the story books. "Okay, which ones are we reading tonight?"

…

He knows there's a little fledgling in his office when he steps in and sees the guard escort sitting on one of the chairs across his desk, he shakes his head fondly and closes the door a bit harder then usual, if only to announce his presence to the fledgling hiding somewhere in his office. The giggles give him away, but he pretends not to hear them, if only to play along with the game.

"Chayyliel," he crosses over to his desk, setting the files down on the middle, he pulls his chair around to sit in, careful about sticking his legs under his desk. "Aren't you supposed to be watching over my fledgling?"

"I would, sir," the guard shrugs lightly. "But, I haven't the faintest idea as to where he might be."

"I see, so he's gone and disappeared again, has he?" He reaches under his desk with his right foot, poking a little chubby belly with the toe of his boot, the giggles give him away again. "He could be anywhere. I wish I knew where he was, I want to give him a great big hug."

The fledgling hiding under his desk giggles again, and he feels him move, so he scoots back in his chair. He crawls out from under his desk and jumps at him, swinging him up, he sets the boy to rest on his right thigh. "Here I am!"

He gasps dramatically. "Oh my goodness, where did you come from!"

"I was hidin'!" Sasha points to the desk. "Unda nea'h!"

"You were hiding under my desk?" He shakes his head. "I had _no _idea! You're such a great hider."

The fledgling giggles adorably and opens his arms. "Big hug?"

Chuckling, the Warden curls him in his arms, hugging him close, he squeezes him and the fledgling shrieks with laughter. "There's your great big hug." Sasha giggles happily, leaning up to press a kiss to the Warden's cheek. "Aw, now don't you know how to melt my heart."

"I hel' Taddy?"

He kisses him on the nose. "You want to help me with my paperwork?"

"Mhmm." The boy nods. "Hel'!"

"I think we can arrange that." Thaddeus reaches for the middle drawer, pulling out a few pieces of blank parchment, then for the second draw on the left, pulling out a box of well-loved crayons. "Why don't you work on this, while I work on these?"

"O'tay!" The boy takes his parchment and crayons, pouring the little crayons out over the desk in front of him, he leans forward, tapping at his chin as he decides on the right color, and perks up when he comes to it, leaning forward for the red crayon. "I draw Taddy pi'ture!"

He turns slightly, kissing his cheek fondly. "I'd love it if you drew me a picture."

They work together in silence, nothing but the scratch of a pen and the scribbling of crayons fills the room around them, the guard remains seated, reading a book, until lunch time rolls around, and then he makes his leave to gather their lunches and returns. He doesn't stray too far, his duty was the protect the fledgling, and he wasn't one to leave his side, so where the fledgling was, he was, even if it was in the safety of the Warden's office.

Sasha eats half of his peanut butter and banana sandwich before he reaches for his box of milk, biting his little lip as he tries to pull it open, he pouts and tugs on the front of the Warden's tunic. "Taddy, I can' get it!"

Thaddeus signs his name on a line and sets his pen down, reaching for the carton of milk, pulls it open, and passes it back to the fledgling. He makes a content little noise and takes a sip of his milk, returning to his sandwich, munching happily as he watches the Warden write on the parchment in the file he was working on, he finishes the last of his sandwich and is reaching for his milk when the Warden flips the page, and he cries out.

They both turn to him in alarm, and the fledgling points at the picture. "That him! Hurt you, Taddy! He bad! He bad, Taddy! He a meanie! I don' like him b'cause he hurt you, Taddy!"

Thaddeus kisses the top of his head, closing the file, he'll finish this one when the little guy was down for his nap. "I know, don't look at it, it's okay. You're here with me, sitting on my lap, so I'm okay." He passes him a small bowl of fruit. "Have some apples."

As it was with small children, he was easily distracted by the sweet tart fruit, picking up an apple slice he bites into it happily, leaning his head against the Warden's shoulder, he watches him open a new file and begin filling out that paperwork. Swallowing his apple, he reaches for his milk, and once he's had his fill, he turns back to his drawings. This one was of him and Taddy, they were holding hands, and he stuck his little tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he worked, wanting it to be perfect for Taddy.

As it always is when one has a full belly, the little fledgling slips into nap time, resting back against the Warden's shoulder, his little eyes flutter dangerously, and he feels Taddy adjust his grip, one of his hands coming around to curl around his belly, keeping him in place as he finally dozes off.

Chayyliel watches with a close eye as the fledgling falls asleep for his after-lunch nap and turns to the Warden. "Sir, I can take him if you'd like."

"No, no, it's alright, I've got him." He kisses the side of the fledglings head. "I'll move him to the cot when I finish this page."

Truth be told, he does, once he completes the page, he moves his hand from around his chubby little belly to curl around his right thigh, as he stands from his chair, walking carefully around his desk, he leans over the cot as he sets the boy down on it. Sasha mumbles, smacking his lips lightly, as he pulls the blanket around him and tucks him in, he's a deep sleeper so there's no worry about waking him up.

Thaddeus kisses him on the head and returns to his seat, reaching in his desk for more parchment, he sets it under the boys crayons, he'll want to come back once he wakes up, and he's going to need more paper.


	208. The Trials Of Hot Sunny Days

He spots her all the way at the back of the group, curled up in the shadows of the bench, her head tucked in, her arms curled around the back of her head. It's a rather hot day, and they'd just finished a routine water break, she'd gone down but hadn't gotten back up. He makes his way through the youthful bodies, crossing to squat at her side, and tugs on her shoulder lightly. "Akeelah?"

She wheezes softly and looks up at him from under her arm. "Nis?"

"Akeelah, are you alright?"

The young lady shakes her head. "My head hurts." And she ducks back down again. "It's too hot, Nis, I don't feel good."

"That's probably heatstroke." He curls his in his arms, curling his arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders, he turns her out of her position and lifts her into his arms. She falls back against him, limp in his arms, resting lightly on his bare chest. It had been hot enough that he'd forgone a tunic and just put on a loose vest, it hung open, he was warm but not too much. "Let's get you somewhere cooler." There'd been a few who had gone down from heatstroke, they were keeping a careful eye on them all, and had healers on the sidelines just in case. The others had been handed off to a healer to be tended to, but this one he'd take care of personally, she was close to his heart.

He carries her up into the shade of the overhanging Pavilion and up the stairs to their home above, crosses through the Lounge and passed the kitchenette, down the hall passed their bedrooms, and back into the washroom. Setting her down on one of the stone benches, he leans her back against the stone wall, kneeling to untie her boots and pull them off, he pulls her socks off with them, and sets them aside. Thankfully, he'd often undressed and redressed her as a fledgling, so it wasn't awkward when he shimmied her out of her trousers, while he was in that position, he pulled his own boots off and set them aside with hers, then his socks. He stood slightly, pulling her short sleeved tunic up over her head, and set that aside, pulled his own vest off and set it to rest over her tunic, he bent again, lifting her back into his arms, and turned them towards the large lake built into the mountain.

Stepping in carefully, he splashes water slightly with every step he makes, and walks out until it comes up to the middle of his calf. There he sits, positioning her in the water, straightening her out, making sure that the cool water covers her completely, he rests her head in his lap, spooning up water in his cupped hand and pours it over her forehead.

"Once you start to cool down, you should start to feel better," he feels her nod lightly. "But you're done for the day, once we get you cooled, we'll get you into a light loose tunic, we'll forgo the trousers at the moment, and into bed."

She licks her lips and her bright blue eyes turn up to meet his. "Can I sleep in your bed?"

He smiles, pouring a handful of water over her forehead again. "Yes, you can sleep in my bed. I'll close the curtains so it's dark and cool, it should help with your headache, taking a nap will help too."

"Thanks, Nis." She sighs deeply. "You're the best."

"You are too." He rubs his fingers over her forehead lightly. "Close your eyes and relax. I'll take care of everything."

She nods again. "M'kay, Nis."

He's never been more thankful that she wore her curls in braids this week, it made this so much easier for him to accomplish, pouring handfuls over water over her forehead. He rubs his fingers over her temples lightly, gently, as to not worsen her headache, he smiles when she sighs in comfort. The Power's not sure when, but she falls asleep on his lap, and when he's sure that she's cooled down, he carefully scoops her up.

She's a lightweight, so he doesn't struggle with her as he carries her from the water, he sets her on the bench again to dry her off, then he dries himself, with her asleep he's not embarrassed to remove his trousers and tie the towel around his waist. Picking her back up, he carries her back to his room, laying her on the bed gently, he fishes in his wardrobe for a baggy light tunic and carefully pulls it over her head, before pulling her forward and resting her back against the pillows.

Changing himself real quick, he hangs the towel over the back of his desk chair and walks over to pull the curtain's closed, drawing the room into cool darkness.


	209. Three Days Late

"Thadd," the four of them look up from the building plans at the sound of his voice, the Warden dismisses himself quietly and joins him, turning them away for privacy. "What's wrong Saba?"

"Jahoel is sick, Barbados has seemingly joined him this time, they've been sick for the last three days."

"The last three days?" He runs his fingers through his hair. "They should be used to me being away for four days, we set up the schedule every time I go away."

"Thadd, it's been seven days, you were gone three extra days." He shakes his head. "You were supposed to be back Wednesday night at six o'clock in the evening." Thaddeus nods. "Yes, yes, I know, it's only four-thirty."

"On Saturday."

"On…. There's no way. Unless…" His eyes widen as realization hits him. "I lost track of time!"

Sabaoth nods lightly. "I'd hurry back, they weren't doing very well the last time I checked in on them."

He nods, excusing himself from the others, and follows him out of the maze that was the bowels of Hell, out into the open, where he can open his steel colored wings wide, and rocket himself into the air. Sabaoth follows behind him, at a more leisurely pace, he's in no rush to get back, it's his day off, he can take as much time as he pleases.

But he's not so lucky, he was supposed to be back three days ago, and now his little guys were sick. Landing on the veranda around the Prison, he marches in, passed the guards stationed at the front gate, down the main hall towards the stairs, at a steady pace, he makes his way upstairs quickly, marching through their room, back to the washroom in the back.

True to his word, Sabaoth was never anything but, they were both curled up in front of the toilet, wheezing softly through their sore throats. The washroom smelled of fresh vomit and he crinkles his nose slightly, but steps forward for them, his concern for them outweighs the concern of the smell.

"Boys, I am so sorry."

Jahoel looks up at him, whining softly. "You said Wednesday, Thaddy, you said Wednesday."

"I know I did, I'm so sorry, Oel, I lost track of time." He kneels slightly, pulling both boys up into the sitting position, helping them to their feet. "Let's get you two in bed." They both stumble forward slightly, shuffling lightly, as the Warden practically carries them to the bed. He settles Jahoel down on the left and Barbados down on the right. "Let me get a cool cloth for you two." He heads back to the wash room, dampening two clothes, wringing out the excess water, he folds them up, and heads back to their sides, setting the cool damp cloth over both of their foreheads. "Let's get a drink of water, too." He pours two glasses of water from the pitcher on his desk and sits first on the right side of the bed, easing Barbados up slightly, holding the glass to his lips. "Small sips, Ados, just small sips."

The boy nods, sipping at the water greedily, his throat burning and parched after what he'd been through, and he pulls the cup away slightly. "Small sips, Ados, I know you're thirsty but too much at one time could upset your belly." He nods, taking smaller more slow sips, until he's had enough, and the Warden pulls the glass away, setting on the table at his bedside.

Then he moves to the left side, easing Jahoel up from the pillow lightly, he holds the glass under his lips and urges him to drink small easy sips. The boy does, curling his fingers around his wrist first, holding on for dear life, he doesn't want to let go, if he does, Thaddy will leave again. He doesn't want Thaddy to leave again.

"I'm not going anywhere, Oel, I'm staying right here." He tilts the glass forward, spilling just a bit of the water into his mouth, and tilts it away again to let him swallow his small sip. "It's alright."

Still, he holds on, swallowing his sip, opening his mouth for another. He downs a few more sips before he pulls away, he doesn't want anymore, and Thaddeus leans over to set his glass on the bedside table next to him.

"You try and get some sleep." He pets his curls back with his free hand, not pulling the one in captivity away, letting him hold on as much as he wants. Jaheol tucks his hand under his chin. "Don't go, Thaddy, don't go!"

"Hey, hey, hey," he rubs his thumb over the back of the hand closest to it. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm more concerned about you and your belly." He gently tugs his hand free, the little thief whines softly, reaching back out for it, and he stands quickly, to keep his hand from being captured again, and grabs his cloak off the hook next to his desk. Shaking it out, he drapes it over the boy, tucking it around him. "You cuddle with this for a bit, while I wash up and get changed, then we'll all nap together."

That seems to appease the young angel, he curls his fingers into the cloak and pulls it close, covering the lower half of his face with it, he inhales deeply and closes his eyes. His cloak smells like him, it'll do for the moment, and he uses this time wisely, turning and stripping out of his soiled clothing, he collects his nightwear and towel and heads for the washroom. Waving his hand, he dissipates the smell of vomit, and lights a scented candle on the vanity, filling the room with a nice scented aroma.

Bathing quickly, he scrubs his hair and his body, and he steps out of the shower. Wringing his hair out, he rubs it dry with the towel, before rubbing his body dry, and ties the towel around his waist as he comes to stand before the mirror. Spraying detangler into his hair, he rubs it in, and runs the brush through his hair. He decides on what he wants to do with it now that its brushed out and cleaned, he decides on a braid, and braids it up quickly. He pulls his tunic on and his undergarments, followed by his trousers, brushes his teeth really quick, and returns to their room. Barbados, the one closest to the washroom side of the bed, blinks up at him and smiles, he tilts his head, returning the smile, and steps forward, away from the washroom, and kneels at his side, running his fingers through his curls. "How does your belly feel?"

"Better."

The Warden nods. "Good." He collects the two washcloths from their foreheads and sets them aside, before climbing in between them, and pulls them close. Jahoel curls around into his side, still tucked under his cloak, and reaches a hand out to clutch at his tunic. Barbados curls around his arm, clutching at his hand, curling up on his side.

He lets them both curl in close, cuddling into his sides, and he leans over, pressing a kiss to both of their heads. "Get some sleep, a good rest will help your bellies."

They nod, cuddling closer, as close as they can get.


	210. Bath Time

"You're lucky I'm fond of you." Struggling to carry an angel hound into the bath was not how he imagined spending his relaxing evening on his day off, his plans had involved a nice warm dinner, a steamy bath for himself, and reading a good book in bed. No where in there did his night involve giving a hound a bath, but here he was, carrying a one-hundred-pound wolf into the washroom, his previous plans completely forgotten. "Or. I would have let all that mud become dry and crusty. Maybe then you'd think twice about playing in a large mud puddle."

The hound whines, squirming from side to side, trying to escape from his grip, but it's solid.

He kneels, setting the hound down, grabbing him by the scruff to ensure he doesn't run off. The hound nips at his fingers, and he shakes him slightly. "Now, you stop that."

The hound whines again, leaning against his leg as he stands slightly, reaching for the soap.

He huffs as he drags the hound forward, soap in hand, the hound fights him at every turn, so he resorts to picking him back up, carrying him into the water. Setting him down again, he curls the leash around his neck and hooks it to the link under the water, built in for just this purpose, no hound liked getting a bath, the link in the floor made it impossible for them to run.

Whining again, the wolf's tail tucks between it's legs, and it butts its head against his bare chest. Chuckling softly, the Captain rubs at his head, scratching lightly behind his ears. "Oh, it's not that bad. It's just a bath. Nothing to worry about." He pushes lightly at his rump. "Sit."

The wolf hound sits, yapping softly, and looks up at the Power pitifully, whining softly as he fills a cup with water and pours it over his head, soaking his thick fur, he pours water down his back, a few cup fills, until he's soaked and dripping water. "Alright, time for the soap." The wolf hound whines again and ducks his head, letting the older angel pour the soap over his muddy fur, ducking under him as he scrubs the soap in, starting first at his neck and then down his back, he scrubs up under his belly, and down his legs to his paws.

He feels the wolf hound tense under him, and he shakes his head. "Don't you dare, Erathaol." The hounds ducks slightly. "I'm warning you; don't you dare shake." As if to defy him, for making him take a bath, he shakes, spewing soap and water everywhere, the Power yelps, ducking back to the side, raising his hands to block his face from the soapy water.

The hound yaps playfully, as though laughing at his misery, and he glares playfully down at him. "Oh, just you wait Era, you'll get what's coming to you." The wolf hound barks brightly, leaning up to lick his cheek. "Oh, don't think being this cute will get you out of trouble." He turns back around, scooping up a cup full of water, pouring it down his neck, rinsing the soap from his fur, he runs his hand down the angel hounds back, wringing the soapy water out as he goes, pouring clean water over him, and wringing out the suds again, rinse and repeat, over and over again.

When he's done, he ducks again, the angel hound shaking his fur out once more, and then he sits back to admire his work. "There you go, Era, all clean."

The angel hound jumps up, resting it's two front paws over his shoulders, and licks at his face happily.

Nisroc laughs softly, turning his head to the side, pushing the hound's head away. "Alright, alright, you're welcome, you mangy mutt."

He reaches under him, undoing the leash from the chain link, and stands, walking him from the water. Erathaol laps up water as he walks with him, he's thirsty after his while ordeal, and trots forward to catch up to the Powers Captain.

The Power grabs one of the towels and kneels, rubbing at his head gently. "Let's get you dried off." He rubs his head into the Power's hands, as he rubs the towel firmly over his back, under his belly, down his legs, rubbing firmly but gently, drying the fur as much as he can before he sets him free. Nisroc rubs his ears back fondly when he's done. "All done." Eraothal yaps happily, nudging the Power's chin with his snout. "You're welcome."

He stands then, drying himself, shucking out of his soaked undergarments, he wraps a clean towel around his waist, taking the leash back in hand. "Come on, boy." They walk side by side from the washroom, down to the Power's room, he bends over slightly, undoing the hook from the hounds collar, and the angel hound darts forward, jumping up on his bed, he watches him take up his stuffed bunny and lay at the foot of his bed, nibbling on the bunny's ear.

Shaking his head, Nisroc steps into his room, cracking the door to keep the heat in, he opens his wardrobe, reaching in for a pair of undergarments and trousers, and then a tunic once his slips those on. He crosses over to the bed, kneeling before the hound, it looks up from its beloved bunny and licks his nose slightly. "Are you hungry?"

The hound barks softly, licking his nose again, and he scrunches up his face, turning away from him slightly. "Alright, alright," he rubs it's head softly. "Someone's in a good mood." He grabs at the stuffed bunny and the hound growls lightly. "Oh, is someone feeling playful now?"

It stands slightly, standing up on it's two front paws, and jumps at him. He morphs midair, bodily tackling the Power backwards, Nisroc yelps as he goes tumbling, pushed off his feet, he falls backwards from the force of the impact. Erathaol laughs brightly, wrestling him down, grappling with his hands as he attempts to maintain the upper hand, straddling the Power's belly, he pushes down as hard as he can. Nisroc laughs with him, grappling with him lightly, letting him maintain the visage of the upper hand, for the moment, he's nice like that.

They wrestle for a short while before the Power has enough, and flips over, trapping the younger angel under him. "Now, it's my turn."

Erathaol barks a laugh. "Do your worst."

He chuckles. "I love it when they say that."


	211. Over My Head

They all stand by as they watch them bath his body, clothing him in his ceremonial robes, doing his curls up until they're silky in the light. The healers preparing him step back for them all, allowing them to come forward, they surround their youngest member, his face looks peaceful now, that's all that matters. Their Captain inhales deeply, blinking rapidly for a moment, and kneels to settle the youngest Power's sword under his crossed hands. He heaves another breath, reaching up to curl his hand over the young angel's forehead, closing his eyes he mentally says his last farewell.

It wasn't fair. They'd lost a number of Elects and young Powers in battle, and each one touched him in the heart, but none so much as this one. This was one of his favorites. He adored the boy. Sablo had a special place in his heart and he always would.

"Nis," his medic curls a hand over his shoulder, squeezing lightly in condolence, and he tilts his head to the floor under him. "We all miss him."

"I was _right there_. I was too _slow_. His death is on _my _hands."

"You did all you could. It's not your fault." He squeezes his shoulder again. "Let's head back, we need to rest for tomorrow."

He nods, leaning forward to press his lips to the peaceful boy's temple, and pushes himself back to his feet, letting the young Power lead him away from their boy.

…

One year.

That's how long it took him to complete his mission, infiltration complete, there was no better way to kill the beast then taking off its head. One year since he'd seen his home. One year since he'd slept in his own bed. One year since he'd last seen his older brothers. One year since his life had 'ended'.

Part of him felt guilty for putting them all through that, and he paused on his way across the empty Training Field, looking up at the soft glow coming from the windows of the overhanging Pavilion. What if they had moved on, what if they had replaced him, his position wasn't permanent to only him, it would make sense if they had. He couldn't blame them.

Shaking his head, he continues on his trek, stepping up onto the stone at the other end, he stares up the stair case. It's silent above him, he can hear the soft sound of a crackling fire, but there's no chatter or talking, the Lounge must be empty. Sighing, he looks down, watching himself take the first step up, and then the second, then the third, until he's half way there and the smell of chicken hits his nose. It makes his stomach growl and his mouth water, the spices are just right, Nisroc made that chicken, he was a _great _cook.

Stepping into the Lounge, he spots a single soul, leaning back in one of the chairs, reading a book silently in the presence of the warm fire.

"Who cooked tonight?"

Of all the things to say after being _'dead' _for a year, that's what he goes with.

"Nis." Puriel doesn't look up from his book, but as he stands there, he sees him fall tense, his shoulders go rigid. His eyes stop moving over the page and simply stare, not reading, just staring, before he lowers the book, and stares at him with wide eyes.

Sablo smiles slightly, trying to act nonchalant, and waves to him slightly. "Hey."

The medic stares at him for a long minute, not moving, he wonders if he's breathing, he doesn't seem to be.

"Are…..Are you okay?"

His mouth opens, then it closes, it opens once more, and closes again. "I…..I don't know." He slowly closes his book and sets it aside, climbing to his feet carefully. "I…I watched you burn."

"No," Sablo points a finger at him. "You watched a _'vessel' _burn. _I'm _very much alive."

"You're….alive."

The young Power nods. "Yep. All a part of an extensive infiltration plan Father came up with."

"You let _us_ think _you_ were _dead_ for over a year!" The medic points at him firmly. "_Sablo!"_

He raises his hands slightly. "Hey, I wanted to tell you, but Father said not to."

"You could have sent us a sign!" The Medic closes in. "Do you know how broken Nis has been because of this!"

"I couldn't! If I did you guys would have come and that would have compromised my position."

"I don't care. C'mere you!" Sablo laughs softly, throwing himself forward, curling his arms around the older Power. Puriel lifts him off his feet, spinning him around happily, and sets him back down. Pulling away slightly, he caresses his cheeks, cradling them as he looks him over. "Where'd you get this?" He trails a finger down a scar, stretching from his eyebrow and down around his cheek. Sablo looks over at his finger. "Initiation."

"Look at you." The Medic frowns in distaste at the scar but moves on from it. "You've gotten a _bit _taller. But you're still tiny."

"Thanks?"

"You need a haircut." He runs his fingers through his long curly hair. "It's grown wild."

He raises a hand, swiping it through his curls frantically. "I had to look the part."

Puriel chuckles softly, pulling the boy in for a hug again, curling around him tightly. "You look like a ragamuffin."

"I could use a haircut."

He strokes his fingers through the curls on the side of his head, hugging him close even still, he didn't want to let go quite yet. "Come by my room when you're done, and I'll give you one."

"I will, are we going to play afterwards?"

Puriel leans down, pressing their foreheads together. "You know we are." He turns him, swatting him on the rear softly, pushing him towards the hall. "Go see Nis, fix his broken heart, you little heartbreaker."

"I will," he jogs off before he can swat him again. He jogs down the hall to the Captain's room, turning in the door way, he spots the Captain sitting on his bed reading a book. "Thanks for making chicken, it's my favorite."

"Of course," he licks his finger and turns the page. "It's the anniversary of your….." He comes to a pause, staring at his book before him, his eyes coming to a standstill, no longer skimming over the page, just staring. "The anniversary of your…." His eyes turn from the page to the angel in the doorway. Sablo smiles slightly, waving his fingers lightly. "Hey."

"I must being going senile." He presses a hand to his head, setting his book down. "I'm seeing things."

"You're not, I'm really here, I'm as real as you are."

"But you…You…" he sets his book aside, turning to set his legs over the side of the bed, climbing to his feet lightly. "You _burned_. I watched you _burn. _You _died_. A _year _ago."

Sablo shakes his head, stepping into the Captain's room, reaching out for the Captain's hands. "No, you saw a _'vessel'._" He manages to snag one of his hands, pressing the palm over his heart. "I've been alive, and somewhat well, for the last year."

He narrows his eyes slightly. "If you're real, then say something only the _real _Sablo would know."

"Easy." The younger angel reaches up to poke him in the ribs. "I always try to get your ribs," the Power catches his finger before it gets to close. "But you always catch me."

Nisroc stares at him, clutching at his finger, and opens his mouth slightly. "You're…..You're _alive_."

"I'm alive, and have been, I'm sorry for making you think I _was _dead though." He looks down for a moment. "It was Father's idea. He said that if you guys knew you'd come after me."

"Damn straight we would have." The older Power looks him over carefully, before smiling, and he curls him into a tight embrace. "Damn straight." Sablo smiles, pressing his face into the Captain's chest, curling his arms around him in turn, clutching at the back of his tunic. He missed these hugs, pressing his face into this chest, smelling this scent, he missed it all. "Look at you." He hugs him tighter. "I'm never letting you go again." He lifts him off his feet. "Never."

He nuzzles closer. "I'd be okay with that."

The Captain pulls away slightly, caressing his cheeks. "Don't you _ever _pull a stunt like that again."

"But, what if—"

"I don't _care _if Father wills it, if you ever do that to me again, I will hunt you down to the ends of this universe and give you the tanning of a life time."

Sablo smiles up at him. "I won't do that ever again."

"That's what I thought you'd say." He runs a finger down the long scar on the side of his face. "What happened, here?"

Sablo catches his finger. "Initiation."

"Who was it?" Nisroc frowns, curling his finger around and pulling the smaller hand into his chest. "Where are they?"

"You can't go hunt them down!"

"Of course, I can, no one hurts my little Baby Power and gets away with it."

Sablo smiles, stepping back into the older Power's chest. "Just hold me, okay, I missed your hugs."

"I'm never letting you go again." He curls him back in his arms, pressing into his curls lightly, Sablo feels him shake a bit and he realizes soon enough that the older Power is crying silently, he never meant to hurt anyone, he'd only wanted to assist their Father. "_Never_." Fingers thread through the curls on the back of his head. "Have you had supper yet?"

"No, I just got back, I met Puri in the Lounge and he said to come see you, so I came down here."

Nisroc uncurls from around him, caressing his cheek lightly. "Let's go get you some supper, and then a haircut, those curls have grown wild, and then into bed." He guides him around, curling him into his side. "Least to say, you're sleeping with me tonight."

"And the next, and the one after that?"

"You know it."

He leans into his side, clutching at the back of his tunic. "I'd be okay with that."

"You didn't get a choice even if you weren't." He squeezes his side lightly. "You can tell me all about your secret mission."

"There's really not much to tell."

"Then, you won't have to spend much time telling it."

His older brother makes him a heaping plate of chicken and potatoes, telling him that they have to fatten him up again and that he's nothing but skin and bones now, but he doesn't complain. He loves his brother's cooking, and after what he'd been surviving on for the last year, he wanted to eat as much of it as he could.

The older Power tugs his plate away slightly. "Woah, slow down, you're going to choke."

"It'd be worth it." Though it was a bit harder to decipher with his mouth full of food.

Nisroc chuckles slightly, shaking his head fondly, and pushes the plate back under him, turning to address the medic behind them. "Puri, you're giving him a haircut, right?"

"Right after he's finished." He flips a page in his book. "And then, I'm going to give him a once over."

"I'm fine." The younger manages to get out as he swallows his mouthful of food, before he shovels more in. "They had a medic too. Everything's good."

"Ah, but they weren't _me, _were they?" Puriel turns to the next page. "I think I'll be the judge of who's okay and who's not."

Sablo shrugs, taking that as his opportunity to shovel more potatoes in his mouth, there's no fighting your way out of that argument, it was like arguing with a brick wall, besides Puri would just do it anyway.

He slows down his eating, if only to put off the inevitable, and Nisroc purses his lips, crossing his arms.

Puriel chuckles lightly flipping the page in his book. "Go ahead, take your time, I can wait." He starts reading the page. "But, you're not leaving this place until I give you a once over."


	212. Unexpected Surprises

Once Hasmal and Haniel were asleep, and he was sure they were deep asleep and that they weren't going to wake up when he moved, he climbed out of the bed, tucking the blanket around them both snugly, he made his leave, there was more he had to take care of.

His next stop was right across the hall.

Pushing the door open slightly, he peeks inside, frowning lightly at the sight in the bed, the mound under the blankets on the bed, turning down the hall real quick, he makes himself up another bowl of stew and returns to the door, pushing it open with his free hand. Stepping into the room, he closes the door behind him and makes for the bed.

Sitting on the edge, he pulls the covers down lightly, and runs his fingers through those wild curls. Familiar curls, he missed doing this, he's never taking it for granted again.

The mound on the bed stirs lightly.

"Come on, baby bear, it's time to wake up."

"Mmm…." He turns, rubbing at his eyes, he sits up slightly. "Mmm….." His eyes flutter open. "….Nis?..."

He smiles at the young Power. "Hey, baby bear."

Sablo blinks at him, rubbing his eyes again, and when he opens his mouth to say something else, the Captain pushes a spoonful of stew in. The young angel's eyes go wide as he chews on his mouthful of stew, staring at the Captain in awe and alarm. He opens his mouth again, most probably to say something, but he pushes another spoon of stew into his mouth, his wide eyes narrow slightly, as he's forced to chew again.

Nisroc smiles slightly, waving the spoon at him. "You need to fill that belly."

He ducks under the next spoonful. "Am I dreaming?"

The Power chuckles lightly, reaching out, he pinches him slightly on the arm.

Sablo jolts, glaring at him as he rubs at his pinched arm. "Ow! What was that for?"

"To show you you're not dreaming." He holds out another spoonful of stew. "Open up." The youth opens his mouth, taking another bite of the stew, it was delicious, he loved his oldest brother's cooking. The younger Power ducks another spoonful. "But…But I watched you _burn! _I helped carry you! I was _there_! I watched you _die_!"

"And, I regret that you did." He sets the bowl down to rest in his lap for a moment, oh, he'd get the boy to finish it just as he had gotten Haniel to finish his. "I wouldn't want you to have to witness that, bambino, and I am sorry that you did."

"So….Are you here to stay?"

He smiles at the boy. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to be by your side for some time to come." He holds up the spoon. "Have another bite."

Sablo nods, opening his mouth for another bite, and stares at him as he chews, then he swallows, and continues. "I thought you were gone, Nis, I thought I'd never see you again."

"I know, bambino, I know you did." He has him take the last bite and sets the bowl aside on the bedside table. "Come here, give me a hug."

The young, baby Power crawls out from under his blankets and into the oldest Power's lap, Nisroc curls around him, pressing him against his shoulder, tucking him under his chin. He clutches to him, as though he might disappear if he let go, and he feels his tears soak into the front of his tunic. "There, there, baby bear, it's okay. Everything's alright." He rubs the young angels back soothingly, small soothing circles, and hums under his breath. Sablo presses closer, mumbling incoherently into his chest, and clutches on tighter. "I know, I know bambino, but I'm here, I'm back, and I'm not leaving again, not for a very long time."

He looks up at him with bloodshot, teary eyes. "S—Swear?"

The Captain nods. "I swear." He turns them around in bed, he'd finished his bowl of stew, it was time to put him back to bed. "I swear I'm never leaving you again. Not for a very long time." He settles them back against the pillows. "Go back to sleep, baby bear, I'm right here."

The young angel cuddles closer, heaving a great sigh, and falls silent, his breathing evening out slowly but surely. He smiles down at the peaceful faced Baby Power, rubbing the tear tracks away with a gentle thumb, he's red faced, but he's sleeping, and that's all that matters.


	213. Like A Cornered Animal

"Castiel did _what _to _my _hound?"

The Captain follows behind the archangel at a steady pace, he wasn't falling behind, he matched the older angel's pace, as they ascended the stairs to the Prison.

His archangel waves away his question. "That's not important for right now, what is important, however," he smiles kindly to Aeshma as she opens the door for them. "He's gone feral, he won't allow anyone to touch him, he even tried to bite _me_. I was left with no other resort to lock him here, he's tried to attack anyone who got too close, there was no other choice."

They step into the dim lit main hall of the Prison together, and he gestures him forward, towards the cell nearest them. As they approach, he can make out the snarls, the growling, those are familiar sounds, he knows who they belong to. "Since you raised him, I thought it best you be the one to care for him now, he's more likely to listen to you then he is anyone else."

He nods, turning around the corner, and he finally sees what his hound has been turned into.

A wild animal, charging at the gate, snarling behind his muzzle, growling at them for getting too close.

"He's an abused animal!"

Michael hums lightly, nodding sadly as he turns away from the hound to look up at his handler. "All I will say on the matter is that they were not kind to him." He looks back to the hound sadly. "Not in the slightest."

"The nerve of those..those…." He shakes his head. "Thinking they can harm _my _hound." He kneels outside the bars, looking in, frowning in distaste for his hounds wellbeing. He blinks lightly when the beast jumps forward, crashing against the cell bars, snarling and growling angrily, like a cornered animal. "Now, Era, is that anyway to treat me?"

The hound snarls, shaking it's head violently, clawing at the muzzle around his snout.

Nisroc nods, looking up at his Commander. "I've got this."

Michael smiles down at him, nodding his head lightly. "I figured you would." He passes him a set of keys. "For the cell and the muzzle."

The Power takes them from him, nodding in thanks, and leans over to unlock the cell. The wolf snarls and lunges forward, but he catches him midjump, hugging him close for a moment. "It's alright, Era, you're alright." The hound whips around growling lowly. "It's me, you're alright, I won't let anything happen to you." His hound is infuriated, he's at a point beyond normal anger, he was enraged.

The archangel watches him with interest, Titus was not the only one who could handle an enraged angel hound with ease, he'd learned it from somewhere, and what he was witnessing was where he had learned it, Nisroc knew all sorts of tricks, he knew his way around with a practiced sort of ease. Nisroc sighs deeply, reaching under the hound for his two front paws, and pulls them out from under him, the hound huffs deeply, forced downwards. The Power turns him over, forcing him down on his side, the hound snarls and growls, thrashing on its belly, as he forces him down on his side. Michael watches with interest as his Captain slowly lifts him over on his back by his two front paws, pressing his left hand over his chest, his fingers spread outwards, and holds him there for a solid minute. He holds him there until the hound stops thrashing, his growling comes to a silence, and he just lays there under the Power's hand.

"Tell me, my Captain," he rubs at his chin lightly. "What is it you are doing?"

"Alpha roll." He rubs the hounds belly lightly and smiles when his tail wags softly. "A submissive pup will roll over to reveal their belly." He moves his hand from the hounds chest and Erathaol slowly rolls over, curling in on himself, whining pitifully. The Power coos softly, reaching out slowly to pet his ears back. "Did they hurt my big bad puppy?"

The hound turns, nudging his hand with his muzzled snout, and the Power curls his fingers under the hounds snout. "If I take it off, do you promise not to bite anyone?"

Erathaol nods lightly, and Nisroc takes that as his confirmation, turning the large hounds head to the side to unlock the muzzle from around his snout, and pulls it off gently as to not harm him or cause him alarm. The hound snaps his jaw lightly, leaning forward to lick the Power's hand, whining softly as he butts his head against the Power's hand, licking at his fingers lightly. "Are you okay, my hound?"

The hound whines, lowering his head, hiding behind his paws.

He coos again, rubbing his furry cheek lightly. "Can you change for me, so that I can look you over?"

The hound huffs lightly, sitting back, and shimmers as he changes between his forms. Erathoal rubs at his mouth as he sits back, leaning on his left hand, and Nisroc brushes his shaggy hair back to examine the bruise forming over his right cheek. "What happened here?"

"Nis," the angel hound reaches out for him. "I'm never helping those no-good dirty monkey's again."

Nisroc smiles lightly, pulling the boy closer, Erathaol curls around him as he stands, taking the boy with him. Michael shakes his head lightly as he steps out of the cell. "I don't know how you do it."

He wags his eyebrows. "Got to have the magic touch." He pats the boy on the rear softly. "I'm going to take him to Puri to look over. If you'd excuse me?"

"Of course, of course," Michael gestures down the hall. "Don't let me stop you."

…

"If I were you," Puriel dabs a cloth of disinfectant over the scratch on the angel hounds arm, and the boy yelps, he apologies softly. "I'd never let them have him again."

Nisroc hums in agreement next to him, watching him dab at the younger angels scratches and cuts, Erathaol is sitting as still as he can manage, his right arm curled around his beloved stuffed bunny.

"This is appalling." The medic continues on, plastering bandages over the scratches as he cleaned them. "If the existence of angel hounds wasn't considered a myth, why, I'd report them for animal abuse."

The Captain nods lightly, he'd have words with Father if He thought he'd let Him use his hound again, he wasn't leaving his side for the near future. "How bad is it, Puri?"

"Nothing too bad, a few cuts and scratches, but much more then you'd expect for simple recon. Not to mention the mysterious bruises." He pats the boys belly playfully. "And the weight loss." He nods as he finishes up, cleaning his mess up as he stands from the chair he'd taken, setting his bottle and rags on his desk, he rubs his hands on a clean hand cloth. "I'd say he needs some love and care, and something to eat."

Nisroc nods, leaning over slightly to lift the angel hound from the medic's bed, Erathaol curls around him, hanging off his right hip, resting his messy head on his right shoulder, hugging his bunny close. "That's just what he's going to get." He looks over at him, poking him on the nose. "What do you want for supper, pup, we can have anything you'd like."

Erathaol looks up at him, hugging his bunny closer. "Can we have pasta?"

He nods. "Of course, we can."

The Power carries the angel hound from the room, down the hall towards the Lounge, and sets him down on a large cushion. "You rest here while I cook us up some supper."

"Okay, Nis."

A large hand ruffles his hair. "Good, pup."


	214. For The First Time

It happened right out of the blue, one minute he was snuggling under his papa's blankets, taking the time to be with him before he went away for the next couple days, he warmed up, not the usual warming up, but the warming up that came out of nowhere, and suddenly something changed. The blankets were heavier, something was different, the world seemed different.

Something was wrong.

He tried to call out to papa, he'd know what to do, he always knew how to make things better. His call was interrupted by a small bark, and he blinked, falling silent for a moment, before trying to call out again, another bark, and he backed up. Something was out there. Something was barking at him. He tried calling out to papa again and another bark interrupted him.

"Sora, where'd you go?" That was papa, he would know what to do, he'd know how to make it better. "You were just here a minute ago."

He squirms, trying to get out from under the blanket, and he hears his papa hum softly, and the blankets lifted away.

"Oh, ho, ho," fingers curl around him, around his belly, and lifts him from the bed. "Did my little angel finally change forms?"

He tries to speak again but all that comes out is a bark, and that's when he realizes, he's the one barking. That's him-_wait. _Changed forms?

Sorath barks again, kicking his four little paws gently, Titus chuckles lightly, lifting him to his face. "That's right, changed forms, all of my guards are angel hounds. Some learn sooner then others." He kisses him on the nose lightly. "Aren't you just adorable. Just a little ball of fluff. I could cuddle you all day." He cuddles him close. "You're just adorable." The puppy purrs in content when he scratches a finger behind his left ear. "Too bad I have to go, I really wanted to be around for this, who can I leave you with while I'm gone….?" He nods to himself. "Come on you, I know just who to leave you with."

He walks from his room, holding the puppy on his arm, and makes his way down the stairs for the guards quarters. He comes to the door he was heading towards, and stands before it, knocking lightly, he waited for the granting of his request for entrance. Someone calls out to him, and he pushes the door open, Sabaoth turns to greet him, braiding his hair up behind his head. "What can I do—Is that Sora?"

Titus holds the chubby little puppy up. "Guess who finally changed forms?"

"Oh, Sora," the oldest Prison guard steps forward, taking the little puppy in his hands, holding him up above him as he leans back slightly. "That's amazing!" He pulls the puppy closer, pecking it's cool nose lightly. "You're absolutely adorable!" The little puppy barks happily and licks his nose lightly. "Yes, you are! Yes, you are!"

He tucks the puppy to his chest and looks up to the Power curiously. "What can I do for you?"

His captain smiles at the pair of them. "As you know, I'm going away for the next couple of days, I can teach him to change back when I return, but I need someone to watch him until I return."

"And you want me to do so?"

"If you would be so kind."

"Aww." He lifts the puppy back up. "How can I say _'no'_?" He sets the puppy down on his bed and sighs, his own form shimmering as he changes, the puppy stands up as the large hound appears. Titus crosses his arms, smiling as he watches the large hound hop up on the bed, take the puppy up by the scruff, and lays down, depositing the puppy between his two front legs, and begins licking the little fluffy head.

The Power chuckles lightly, leaning forward to rub the older guards head fondly. "Thanks, Saba."

His hound barks softly, returning to his bathing of the puppy, Sorath ducks slightly, barking softly at his bathing.

"You're in good hands…" he kneels to poke the puppy on the nose. "Or, I should say, in good paws."

…

Osmadiel raises an eyebrow at his brother's form, though he could choose between the two freely, he preferred his humanoid form over his hound form, Rahab squeals softly at the puppy that hangs from his mouth. Thaddeus coos softly from over the older guards shoulder, he'd taken the liberty of swapping their stools from a doggie bed when Tus had told him about Sora's changing forms.

The older hound sets the puppy down in the middle of the bed, turning slightly to growl threateningly at the scribe, he dared the prisoner to make any sort of comment, and turned back to lay over the puppy. Sorath whines softly at all the attention, crawling backwards against the older hound, hiding between his legs. His guardian growls at them until they look away, and they turn, watching from the corner of their eyes as he nudges the puppy over with his nose and starts licking at his neck.

"Isn't he just a cutie."

Rahab squeals again softly, into her hands, and Os looks between her and the Warden. "Wait," he turns back to the two hounds. "Is that Sora?"

Thaddeus nods. "Sure, is little brother, he changed forms this morning." He steps around him and kneels before the two hounds, reaching out slowly, Sabaoth looks up at him and huffs, giving him permission to touch the puppy. He scratches a finger under the puppy's chin, cooing again, and the puppy yaps happily. "Aren't you just a cutie."

Osmadiel claps his hands softly, standing from his stool, he draws their attention over to him. "I want in on this, you're gonna have to share him Saba." He steps forward, shimmering softly as he changes forms midstep, Sabaoth growls at him as he steps forward, and he growls back, rubbing his head over the side of the older hounds neck. His older brother nips at his ear lightly and huffs, bobbing his head slightly. Thaddeus steps back as the other hound closes in, looming over the puppy slightly, he nudges him over with his snout, turning the puppy over onto his back, leaning against Sabaoth's right leg, he pokes his nose into the puppy's chubby little belly, sniffing softly, then he licks it. Sorath shrieks softly, kicking his four little legs lightly, squirming on his back as the older hound continuously licks playfully at his belly.

Sabaoth lets him carry on for a few minutes before he nudges him away, barking firmly, and Osmadiel growls in return, snagging the puppy up by the scruff and climbing in beside the older hound, depositing the puppy between his legs, and begins licking his neck, down his back. Sorath yelps, squirming up to his front paws, and the older hound pulls him back with his left paw, curling his leg over his neck to keep him in place.

Rahab shrieks excitedly, jumping from her stool, and the Warden turns in time to see her hop forward, changing forms midjump, and another puppy joins them, young, but older then little Sora. She rolls head over heels into Sabaoth, and the older hound huffs, snagging her by the scruff and depositing her between his legs, licking at her head lightly.

Both puppies whine softly, squirming under their respective older brother, and Thaddeus chuckles, crossing his arms slightly. "Don't worry, pups, two can play at that game." He leans forward, falling forward, changing forms as he falls forward, larger then both of the older guards, the Warden lays between them, tugging them closer by the ear, and sets off licking Sabaoth's head first.

The hound under him purrs softly, flopping down over his legs, and the oldest hound barks a laugh, licking down his neck. Sorath manages to escape Osmadiel's clutches and trades places with Rahab, climbing up shakily on the oldest guards side, flopping down over him.

That's how Nisroc finds them when he comes in search of the Warden, and he chuckles at the sight of them, crossing his arms lightly. "Well, isn't this a sight." The largest of the hounds barks up at him, and returns to licking Osmadiel's neck. "Well, Thaddy, I came for you." The hound perks up, looking up at him. "That's right, I came for you, I think there's something you'll want to see." He smiles when the hound tilts it's head curiously. "I think you'll find him to be a familiar sight." He reaches into the satchel he wears around his shoulder, pulling out a grey fluffy puppy, he squats, holding the chubby puppy out. "Look familiar?"

The Warden hound's eyes widen, and he barks excitedly, pushing the guard off his legs as he jumps up, trotting forward, he snags the wide eyed puppy by the scruff, pulling him out of the Captain's hands, trotting back over to the other hounds, he lays down, tucking the little grey puppy between his two front legs, licking at his little head gently, he nudges him over onto his side, licking over the side of his belly. The little puppy yaps softly, tugging at the fur on the underside of his neck, and the older hound pulls back, huffing softly when the puppy curls up under him, resting its head on his right leg, and the older hound lays over him.

Nisroc smiles. "Well, I can see he's in good hands."


	215. One Thing Leads To Another

Here he lays again, staring up at the stone ceiling, listening to the crackle of the fire in the fireplace beside him, his tunic folded nicely on the wooden table at his feet. The walls are bare, for the most part, there's a tapestry that hangs above the wooden table, but the sharp instruments are gone, the rooms been cleaned up, the walls scrubbed, where there had been rust colored spots is now only light grayed colored stone walls.

He'd gotten farther this time, he'd made it all the way to the gates when they had caught him, dragged him all the way back, his sentence had been lengthened for his escape attempt. This time _he _had been there, standing at the entrance, arms crossed, shaking his head as he glared at him firmly. He tried for a smile as the guards dragged him down the hall towards the chamber, _he_ didn't smile back, and _he_ didn't follow. The guards prepared him, wrestling him down on the table, one holding him down as the yanked his tunic up from over his head, strapping his wrists down to the table, he kicked at them, as they reached for his ankles, he managed to kick one in the jaw, and they slammed his feet down on the table harder and he grunted in pain from it, though he knew he deserved it. They untied his boots and set them to rest next to his tunic, then they peeled off his socks, resting them over his boots, and held his ankles tight as they scrapped them up.

The guard he kicked glared at him as he turned away, rubbing at his jaw, but he left it at the glare, he knew what happened when you struck a prisoner, and no one wanted to see that side of the Warden too many times. He did grumble to his partner about '_ungrateful brats'_ though as they left him there and pulled the door closed behind them.

He listened closely for the sound of heavy boots clomping their way towards him, straining his ears for them, he didn't want to miss them.

There they were, he smiles at the sound of them, stomping there way closer and closer, slowly, but surely, he was on his way. He squirms lightly, tugging at his binds, but they hold firm, as they always do. The stomping of the boots is getting closer and closer, until they stop, he's right outside the door, the handle jiggles, it turns, the tumblers click, and the door creaks as it's pushed open.

The Warden steps in, holding his file in one hand, and a bucket in the other. He ignores him for the moment, closing the door behind him with his elbow, he turns, walking for the wooden table at his feet, reaching up, he sets the bucket on the table. There's a tension in the air about him, and a certain kind of nerves fills him to the very ends of his wavy locks, and he get's the feeling that the Warden is not happy with him.

He doesn't turn to face him, he leans over the table, his back facing him, and the sound of his pen scratching at the parchment combines with the crackling of the fire. That's what took him so long, it was the paper work, the spy grimaces, he knows how much the Warden hates doing paperwork, his shoulders are tense, maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all.

"What was it _this _time, Rizoel?"

_Yikes. _The first name. His tone is firm, he's most certainly not happy with him, and Rizoel bites his cheek lightly. "I…I wanted your attention…"

"You _wanted _my _attention_." He turns then, tossing his pen down, and leans back against the edge of the table as he crosses his arms. "Well, you most _certainly _have it." He holds up a finger. "The first time, was amusing." He lifts another. "The second, was amusing." He lifts another finger. "The third, not so much." He curls his fingers back down and begins tapping his upper arm. "There's one of two ways this could go; the nice way, or, the not so nice way." He shrugs lightly. "On one hand, I am in a pleasant mood." Then he tilts his head to the side slightly. "But, on the other hand, this is becoming increasingly unacceptable." He straightens back out again. "But then, we could also go one route and see where it takes us after."

Thaddeus nods to himself, pushing away from the table, he's decided which route this is going to go, he walks up the table, coming to stand above his head, undoing the straps from around his wrists. Rizoel watches him walk back down the side of the table, feeling something twist inside him, this isn't how he wanted it to go, he hadn't thought this would happen. He wiggles his toes as the Warden undoes the straps from around his ankles, and yelps when he tugs him down across the table, pulling his legs to dangle over the edge. He turns, lifting the bucket up off the table by the handle, and sets it to rest in his lap, Rizoel quickly curls his arms around it to keep it from falling over when he lets the handle go, looking down at the bucket of soapy water and scrub brush for a moment, then back up to the Warden, this was _really _not what he wanted to have happen.

The older angel plants his hands on his hips firmly. "You're going to scrub the floor." He nods over his head. "From one end to the other."

"But," he looks over his shoulder, the room suddenly seems bigger then it did before, and he looks back up to the Warden. "That'll take me _hours_."

The Warden leans forward slightly. "Then you better get started." And stands back straight again. "Because, you only have an hour, and if it's _not _done in an hour, then we'll try something a bit more _hands on_, if you know what I mean."

"An _hour_!"

"Well, now," he looks down to his watch. "You have fifty nine minutes and fifty five, fifty four, fifty three—"

Rizoel's eyes widen and he jumps off the table, his bare feet smacking the stone floor softly, he bolts over to the other side of the room and drops, reaching into the bucket, he picks up the scrub brush, and begins scrubbing that corner of the floor. Thaddeus watches him for a minute, and turns for the boy's file, he still has to finish that paperwork. He hops up onto the metal table, his legs dangling over the side, and pulls the packet out, flipping it over to the page he left on, and begins his work once more, the sound of the brush and the crackle of the fire filling in the space around him.

An hour passes by quickly, he finishes his paperwork twenty minutes in, and sets the file aside, tapping his fingers over the edge of the metal table as he watches the boy work. The little spy makes great progress in the span of twenty minutes, and he pulls his legs up as the boy works his way around the table, crawling inch by inch on his hands and knees. He raises his right hand, blowing on one of his rings, he rubs it over his tunic, as he turns back to watch the boy work, a bit of labor never hurt anyone.

The boy pauses, sitting up, stretching his back slightly, and rubs the back of his hand over his forehead. His bare shoulders glisten as he draws nearer to the fireplace, sweat beading over his skin, and then he bends back over, presses the brush to the stone floor, and begins scrubbing again.

He kicks his legs slightly, checking his watch for the time, and takes on an impressed expression, nodding his head lightly. The little hands overlaps the big hand as the hour comes to an end just as the boy sits up again, dropping the brush into the bucket, he hums, impressed, turning to look at the youngling.

Rizoel looks over his shoulder at him and he nods at a bucket in the corner. "Get yourself a drink." He climbs to his feet carefully, and scampers over to the bucket of fresh water, filling himself self a cup, he chugs it in his thirst from such strenuous manual labor that was scrubbing the whole floor on one's hand and knees. He drops the ladle back into the bucket and turns to look at the Warden.

Thaddeus wags a finger at him. "Come here."

Scampering across the floor carefully, the boy comes to stand before him, and he tugs him forward by the ear, until he stands against the table, between his legs, and he tilts his head up with a finger under his chin. "You wanted my attention?"

The little scamp nods bashfully. "It's just…..You've been away a lot recently…." He rubs his foot over his left ankle. "And….I haven't seen you in a while…..I just wanted to see you."

"Rizo." Good. They're back to the nicknames again. "If you wanted to see me, you could have just asked for me, I would have made time for you." He taps him on the nose fondly. "You didn't have to cause trouble."

Rizoel looks down. "I'm sorry, Thaddy."

"I know you are, you little scamp." He nods to the wooden table to their right. "Grab your tunic, boots, and socks."

The boy nods, darting off, careful with the wet floor, and gathers his things, returning to the Warden's side after only a quick moment. Thaddeus pulls him into his side as he steers him to the door. With his file tucked under his arm, he pulls the door open with his free hand, and turns them to the stairs.

He sees the boy look up at him from the corner of his eye.

"Aren't I going back to my cell?"

He shakes his head. "Nope."

He leads him up the stairs, taking his things from him when they reach the top, nodding to the door on the right. "The washroom is in there, you're all sweaty and yucky, go wash up and I'll explain everything when you're done."

"But I—"

"I set a clean tunic in there for you."

Rizoel nods silently, he looks as though he wants to ask question, but he nudges him over with his elbow and the boy slips into the washroom at his silent urging.

Thaddeus hums to himself as he turns into his quarters, setting the boys file and belongings down on his desk, he turns to his wardrobe, he'll change into his night clothes while the boy washes up. Pulling his tunic up over his head, he tosses it into the hamper, and reaches up to let his hair down from the bun it's in, and brushes it out, tossing it over his shoulders, he reaches into his wardrobe for a pair of trousers and slips into them, then he removes his rings, setting them into the small tray on the door.

The door across the hall squeaks open slowly and closed, and he turns to peer over his shoulder as the boy wanders in tentatively, Rizoel looks about his quarters curiously. "You redid everything."

"Well, I had to," he closes the door on his wardrobe and turns, resting his hands on his hips lightly. "With me, and three boys, sometimes four, staying up here." He looks around for a moment before turning his gaze back to the spy. "I had to make some changes."

The boy tilts his head, frowning slightly. "Three….?" There goes his hopes.

"Yes, three, full time anyway." He wags a finger at him again and Rizoel steps forward slowly, until he's standing before the Warden, and Thaddeus reaches out with his hands, curling them over his shoulders, pulling him just a bit closer. "First things first, you're under house arrest, you step a foot outside this building without _my _permission, and you'll be over my knee before you can blink, you understand me?" Rizoel nods silently, staring up at him with wide eyes, did this mean what he thinks it means. "Secondly, no more of this spy business, you're done, I don't care who says what, you're not to be involved anymore. If I find out you're partaking in espionage again, you'll be over my knee, you still following me?" The boy nods again. "And, lastly, on a more personal front. You're grounded. You are to be in bed by nine-thirty. You can stay up here, or you can come down to my office, but that's it, got it?"

The _former _little spy nods. "But…Does that mean….?"

"I meant it when I said you most certainly had my attention. You're mine now kid, and my kids are upstanding members of society, or they find themselves over my knee." He tugs at the boys ear lightly. "Got it?"

Rizoel nods, a smile stretching over his features, and it's contagious, the Warden smiles down at him. "Got it, Thaddy." He throws himself forward, hugging himself around the older angel's middle, pressing his face to his chest. "Thanks, Thaddy."

"Hey, of course, little guy." He pets his hand down the back of the boy's head. "But it's time for you to get in bed, it's passed your new bedtime." His new boy nods quickly, hugging him tightly one last time, and scampers off to climb into bed.

Smiling fondly, he shakes his head lightly as he turns to his desk, opening the second drawer, and drops the boy's file in, it lays over Barbados's and Jahoel's, he closes the drawer and moves the boy's boots over to lay on the matt by the door, next to his and Jahoels, he shakes his head at the sight of the other boy's boots, he's in for another scrubbing once he manages to find him, he picks up Barbados's discarded socks and crosses over to throw them in the hamper.

"Honestly," he mumbles to himself fondly as he finally picks up his book from his bedside table and slides into bed next to his half asleep newest little family member. "It's like I've opened a home for wayward little scamps."

The older angel looks over when he feels the blankets rustle slightly, and rolls his eyes fondly, he reaches out, pulling the former little spy closer. Rizoel yelps as he's tugged around, tucked against the older angel's side, and smiles, nuzzling closer.


	216. Feels Like I'm Paralyzed

She's awoken some time later, she wasn't even sure when she had fallen asleep, but she must have, as her eyes flutter open softly. The room's grown dimmer, candles are blazing to keep it illuminated, a lamp lit on the Warden's desk. His light blue eyes watch her carefully as she uncurls from her ball, giving her the moment to take in her surroundings, he knew that it could have all seemed as though it was a dream before she had fallen asleep.

Her rose gold eyes swivel around the room for a moment and then she turns to look at him, Thaddeus smiles at her warmly, squatting at the side of the cot. "It's time to go, we have an appointment with the Healer." She nods, turning on the cot, resting her feet on the floor, he passes her boots over and she slips her feet into them, standing wobbly from the cot, he catches her elbow when she nearly falls back over. "Careful."

He tucks the file that's been started for her under his arm and guides her forward, for the door, opening it for her, and she follows his lead as he steps out of the office, his fingers curled around his elbow gently, perhaps it was for show, to show that he was still in charge of the prisoner even without her hands cuffed together.

She noted that, lifting her hands up for him to see. "Aren't you going to cuff me?"

Thaddeus spares her hands a glance as he nods to the guards stationed at the door and shake his head. "No."

Yasmin nods silently, taking note as the Warden's attention turns from her, his answer was short, he's a bit more tense then he was when they had met a few hours ago, something had turned him in a particular way while she was napping, and she tries to think of what it had been, though she wasn't conscious to see it for herself.

"Did you know you mutter in your sleep?" His question catches her off guard, and she stumbles, it's only his hand curled around her elbow that manages to keep her from falling over, she's too engrossed in what the implications of that question could hold to focus on the looks that were being sent her way as they walked down the large street. "You kept asking someone to stop, this Octavius fellow you mentioned, you were pleading for him to stop." He spares her another glance. "Stop _what_, exactly?"

She feels her insides freeze, she _didn't _know that she muttered in her sleep, it was something she would try to put a stop to, or stop sleeping, which ever one came to fruition first. "I—I did?"

He hums, nodding slightly. "You did." He glances down at her. "Want to tell me about it?"

It was a bit soon, they'd only met approximately five and a half hours ago, but there was no better time like the present.

Yasmin bites her lip. "It would be better to _show _you."

He hums again, nodding once more, and leads her up the first step to the looming building before them. It great, large, magnificent, it looks like the one they had, but better kept. Cleaner. More welcoming. They make their way up the stairs carefully, his finger curled firmly around her elbow, as though he knows she's not necessarily paying attention to where she's stepping, too enamored by the structure of the Infirmary.

"You'll have to tell someone eventually," she turns to look at him and he spares her a glance. "You'll have to plead your case to the council for asylum."

"I _have _to?"

He nods. "We don't just give asylum out to anyone," he catches her when she stumbles again. "You have to have a viable reason. This only serves as evidence."

Someone meets them at the top of the stairs, in the entrance of the grand building, a tall dark man, wearing an emerald loose-fitting tunic and black trousers tucked into brown boots. His arms are crossed, he hasn't spotted them yet, and he seems to be deep in thought, tapping a finger to his lips. There's a gold band in his left ear lobe, a few gold rings on his fingers, and what she can of his eyes, they're bright, but full of kindness.

This must be the Healer Thaddeus had mentioned.

He hears their approach, as his head turns in their direction, he lowers his arm, the finger departing from his lips, and smiles to them in greeting. "Is this my new patient?"

Yasmin shrinks slightly under his tone, he looks different then their version of the Healer, but his voice is the same, and he frowns at her noticeable flinch. The only comfort is Thaddeus squeezing her elbow firmly, offering her support in a silent gesture, as he nods to the inquiry that was made. "It is, this is Yasmin."

"The one seeking asylum?"

The Warden nods again, looking down at her for a moment, she stares down at her boots.

"I see," she feels the attention shift then, she knows they're watching her now. "Welcome, little Yasmin, I am Raphael."

She chances a glance up at him, and he smiles, but his eyes are full of concern. "I take it your version of myself is not so kind?" She shakes her head quickly, averting her eyes again, it was best not to look them in the eyes for too long, they didn't like that, there was consequences for that offence. "Well, _I _have a big heart, there is enough kindness in it for everyone, including yourself." Her eyes flit up to his again and he smiles. "You can look me in the eye, I don't bite, I'm not going to hurt you because of something so trivial." She nods, staring up at him, he doesn't seemed disturbed by it. "I assume Thaddeus has told you about the process for asylum?" She nods again. "It is ultimately the council's decision to make, and I am one quarter of the council, my opinion weighs rather heavily among those decisions, and seeing as to how it is him who begins the process for asylum, Thaddeus has a rather heavy say in those who are eligible." He claps his hands lightly, changing the topic then, and looks back up to the Warden. "You've told me suspicions, I can see one piece as we stand here, but let's see what other evidence we can gather."

He gestures for them to follow as he turns, leading them into his Infirmary, Yasmin looks around as she's guided forward, either not caring or not noticing the stares sent her way, the whispering among them, until they were sent back to work with a sharp look from their Archangel.

There's an area that's sectioned off, curtains pulled closed, the view blocked by them. He guides them around the curtains, into the sheltered area, privacy for this personal occurrence. He turns back to them once they're in the privacy of the enclosure.

He smiles down to her again. "I must apologize beforehand, this will be rather invasive, I must take note of any scars or incorrectly healed injuries for your petition of asylum and Thaddeus must take note for your intake." Yasmin nods quietly. "Would you like another woman to join us before we proceed?" She thinks on it a moment, looking over to the Warden briefly, he shrugs slightly, he doesn't mind either way, whatever makes her feel more comfortable. Yasmin takes a deep breath and turns back to the Healer, nodding lightly, and he nods in turn. "Alright, I'll have someone join us, we will step out, I need you to undress down to your undergarment." She curls her arms around herself self-consciously and he gives her a sympathetic look. "I will try to make this go as quickly as we can, I promise." She nods slightly, looking away again. "I will send one of my healers in with you, just call when you are ready, there is no rush."

Yasmin nods again, biting her lip slightly, a heavy hand, it must be his, settles over her head for a moment before it's taken away, and Thaddeus squeezes her elbow again before his fingers disappear. They leave her in silence, stepping out like they had said, heaving a great sigh, she nods to herself, she can do this, she's tough, she's a survivor.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she leans over, slowly untying the laces of her scruffy boots. She sets them aside, slipping out of her socks, setting them to rest over her boots, she stands, undoing the belt around her waist, she sets it to rest on the edge of the bed. Pulling her baggy ratty tunic up over her head, she reaches back for the buttons keeping her chainmail undercoat together and struggles slightly.

"Hello," the deserter looks up at the voice, almost jumping in surprise. A dark female stands there, braids hanging down her back, beads woven in, little golden bands, she's beautiful, around her age, this is the healer he said he was going to send in. "I'm Noel. Do you need help?"

Yasmin nods lightly, and the healer steps forward, crossing behind her, she feels her pull on the chainmail shirt as she undoes the clasps keeping it together. "It's going to be okay." Noel speaks from over her shoulder. "They'll help you."

She feels the chainmail fall over her shoulders, as the healer holds it open for her to slip her arms out, and she turns when she's done, watching the healer fold the chainmail undershirt and lay it on the end of the bed. "How do you know?"

Noel looks up at her, smiling lightly, the gold bands in her braids glisten in the lighting of the torches around them, night has finally fallen. "Because I've been here. I'm here for asylum too."

Yasmin stares at her. "You are?"

The healer nods, pulling a few long braids over her shoulder, twirling the end around her fingers. "I was a deserter. I couldn't fight in a war that wasn't mine. I've been here, in this position, I know how you feel." Noel smiles again. "They're all so nice here. So much nicer then our world. I said I wanted to help people and Raphael offered me a place here. He's kind, so kind, and he's so gentle. Thaddeus loves with his whole heart. He'll take good care of you. I would have night terrors when I first came, and he let me come sleep with him until everything got better."

"Really?"

She nods. "They take care of their people. If you ask, he'll say yes. I know it doesn't seem like it right now, it's all so much to take in, everything's moving so fast, but it will get better. It _will _be okay. They want to help you. You just have to let them."

Yasmin fiddles with her fingers. "What about the council?" Clearly, they approved her case for asylum, as here she was, but how did it go. "What about them?"

Noel nods lightly, looking down to the end of her braid for a moment. "It's better then it sounds, it's not as scary as you think it is, it's all in your mind." She looks back up to her fellow deserter. "Thaddy is there with you the whole time," she smiles slightly. "I hid in his shoulder the entire time, he kept his arms wrapped around me for the whole thing, even though they must have gotten tired." She takes a breath. "The council is comprised of the four Archangels. Raphael's opinion is considered heavily, Michael usually agrees with what Raphael says in his regard to the matter of granting asylum, Lucifer usually agrees with Michael, and Gabriel says yes to everyone. They won't send you back. You're safe here. You'll have a home here. Like the rest of us do."

She blinks. "There's more?"

The healer nods again. "Most of us are healers because we want to help people who couldn't help themselves. Some are guardian angels and miracle workers. Everyone has a place here. You just have to find it."

Yasmin nods, feeling a bit more comforted, and unbuttons her trousers, slipping out of them. Noel takes them from her and folds them, setting them to rest on end of the bed with the rest of her clothes.

She stands straight, reaching out to hold her by the shoulders, staring her in the eyes. "Take a deep breath." She does as instructed, and lets it go just as similarly. "Ready?"

The one in question takes another deep breath, and then she nods, Noel squeezes her shoulders tightly. "I'll go tell then you're ready." Yasmin nods, taking another deep breath as the healer steps around her and disappears through the curtain, she can do this, she's a survivor, she's been through worse, it's not going to be bad. Noel is here. Raphael seems better then her Raphael. Thaddeus will be here too.

"We're coming back in." Noel calls out before they enter, and she looks straight ahead, building up her composure, this is going to help her, there's nothing to be ashamed about, as they step in. Noel steps between the two chairs that are set up behind the table before them, crossing to stand behind her, squeezing her hand as she passes, a comforting presence, offering her strength and comfort.

Raphael and Thaddeus sit at the table, both of them opening files, one for the Healer and one for her intake in the Prison. "Noel, will you give her a band for her hair?" Her new friend steps up beside her, offering her a hair band from around her wrist. "Thank you, starshine." He taps his pen against the first page of his examination packet. "Alright, Yasmin, I'm going to ask you some questions, they're easy ones, I need you to answer them as honestly as you can, alright?"

Yasmin nods silently, curling her arms around herself.

"Alright, let's begin, obviously, question number one, you're name, Yasmin."

He writes her name in.

"Question number two, what's your age?"

She licks her lips. "Fifteen."

Thaddeus writes something on his parchment, muttering something that sounds akin to something about _'child solders'_, and shakes his head distastefully.

"Question three, what was your position before your arrival?"

"I was a frontline solder, close combat."

The Warden mumbles again and begins writing again. The Healer elbows him sharply in the side and he grunts but doesn't apologize.

Thaddeus taps his pen against the table lightly. "You said you were a deserter?"

She nods. "I didn't want to fight in an unjust war."

"A very noble ideal." The archangel commends, flipping over to the next page. "What were you before you were captured."

Yasmin curls her hands up over her shoulders. "I was a prisoner. Because I was a deserter."

He writes it in, Thaddeus follows suit. "Is there anyone who would come for you?"

She curls her hand around her mouth, hesitating, and they both look up at him when she doesn't answer right away. Noel whispers behind her encouragement. "Benjamin."

Raphael tilts his head. "Who is Benjamin?"

"My….My little brother."

Thaddeus inhales slightly, curling his hand over his mouth, shaking his head slightly, before writing in what was needed. "What is his role?"

Yasmin takes a deep breath, this is hard, harder then she thought it would be. "He's in training."

He mutters again and this time the Healer lets it go. "How old is he?"

"Five and a half."

Raphael leans back in his chair, rubbing at his chin lightly, and she stares at them, he takes a moment before looking back up. "We will do everything in our power to find him and bring him back to you."

She smiles slightly. "Thank you."

Thaddeus rubs at his beard lightly, looking down at the page before him. "Sablo was sent back. This time we all know. I will talk to Nisroc, he can send word to him, if anyone can find the boy, Sablo can."

"Very good," the Healer nods in acknowledgement. "I will inform Michael, he will make our other moles aware to keep an eye out for him." He looks up to the young lady before them. "Do you have a picture of him?"

She nods. "In my pocket."

"Very good, I will need it, at least to copy." He writes on his parchment, Thaddeus taps his lips with a finger. Raphael moves on to his next question, Thaddeus started the process for asylum, and then he took over. "We have four main flocks: Choirs, Messengers, Warriors, and Healers. Do you have any idea which one you would intend to join?"

She falls short, her words leave her for a moment, she doesn't know, how could she possibly know that now. Yasmin turns slightly, peeking over her shoulder, Noel smiles to her encouragingly, nodding her head lightly. _'You just have to ask.'_

Yasmin turns back to them. "I want…I want to stay with Thaddeus."

They both look up at her again, Thaddeus smiles slightly, rubbing at his lower lip, he looks back down to his parchment, writing something in. Raphael smiles completely, nodding in acknowledgement, turning slightly to the Warden next to him. "Do you have the room?"

"I can _make _the room."

She lets go of a breath she hadn't know she was holding, feeling comforted in the fact that he would do that, he hadn't granted her request, but he hadn't denied it. She barely knew him, but he was the first person to be so kind to her, she trusted him, he hadn't said _'yes', _but he said he'd find a place for her, he'd find her a place to stay with him.

He said _'yes' _without saying the actual word. She pauses though, caught up, and licks her lips. "What….What about Benjamin."

"I'll make room for him too." He rubs at his chin lightly before lowering that arm. "We'll have to do some renovating. But, we'll make it work."

"Alright," the Archangel is still smiling, filling in her placement, and moves on. "Are you involved with any acts of espionage, attempts at infiltration, or assassination?"

"No." She shakes her head. "I have no poker face."

The Warden snorts softly, smiling again, shaking his head in amusement. The Archangel smiles and elbows him again, he rubs at the spot, but still chuckles softly.

"That concludes that." They both turn to a new page. "Now on to the medical examination. Physical markings and other ailments."

The Warden at his side cuts in before he can ask. "That scar on your face?"

Yasmin unconsciously runs a finger down the line, running from her eyebrow and down around her ear. "Punishment."

"For what?"

She takes a deep breath. "For looking Octavius in the eyes."

Raphael turns to the Warden for clarification. "Octavius?" Thaddeus hums as he writes in his file. "_Their_ Warden."

Noel curls her fingers around her shoulders as the Healer nods for her to turn around. Yasmin stares at the other girl as their eyes travel over her back, she hears the scratching of pens, taking note of the whip scars, the raised lines of the etchings on her back, she knows they see the large bold _'D' _branded on her left shoulder. Her back was a blank canvas for Octavius to practice on.

She can still feel the rubbing of the manacles binding her wrists.

Her new friend smiles at her. _You can do this_.

"Alright, Raph, anything more?"

"No, that about covers it, I'll take my findings to Michael and we'll convene the council." Papers shuffle. "I'll also inform him immediately about the boy, we'll find him, we'll bring him here."

She hears a chair scooting against the stone floor and Noel smiles again. Something warm curls over her shoulders and she looks down, it's a jacket, this is the jacket Thaddeus had been wearing. She looks over, the golden rings on his fingers twinkle in the fire light, and she's turned around to face him as he pulls her into a warm embrace. "I'm sorry, Yasmin, I'm so sorry." She curls her arms around him in turn, pressing her face into his chest, and one of his hands come up to cradle the back of her head. "Things will be better from here on. I'll make sure of it."

The other chair scoots back. "Noel, would be so kind as to take her to the washroom, and get her into clean clothes?"

Thaddeus pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against hers, and smiles, cradling her cheeks in his hands.

Noel hums in assent and Thaddeus allows the healer to lead her away, and runs a hand over his chin lightly, covering his mouth for a long moment. The Healer lets him have it, he sees the worst of it before anyone does, he's the one who sees them before any other, his job is not an easy one, personally, the archangel would not want it.

"It is the _children _who are brought to me." He turns to face the Healer. "It is the _children _thatI house while they petition for asylum. Children who have seen too much, been through too much, _children. _They have an army of _child solders_. We can be barbaric ourselves when it comes to wartime, but we've never stooped so low as to condition child solders, we are not that barbaric."

"I don't know how you do it, Thaddeus." The Healer steps out from behind their table, coming to lean against the front edge, crossing his arms lightly. "The things I'm sure you've seen, you have to mend what no other can get close to while they wait, I don't know how you do it. I would not want your job. I could not do it, and remain as kind as I am."

"I bring them all up to sleep with me because they scream through the night and I can hear it all the way upstairs. Some won't bath because they are frightened of the water. Some are so lost they don't know which way is up."

"You are good for them. You show them a kindness they are not used to. You are a wonderful Warden. The best we've ever had." He touches a hand to his chest. "You have a heart."

"_Children. _The youngest I've had is six, a small boy, joined the choir when he was granted asylum. He would cling to my leg as tight as he could muster, and wouldn't speak a whisper, not a word. They tortured him into muteness. The first time I ever heard him make a peep is when he cried at his hearing, when Lucifer said he could join his choir, the first sound he had made for the weeks he had been with me."

Raphael rubs at his cheek lightly, a sad gleam coming to his eyes. "It's a sad truth of war, I'm afraid, my friend. When the war is raged, it is the innocents that suffer, it is a sad fact." He steps forward, curling the fingers of his right hand around the Warden's upper arm. "But you help them bring that innocence back. You show them how to be children again. They never forget you. That boy, the small one, he still talks about you. They all remember being with you. Noel, she still talks about you, the flowers you find on your doorstep, she leaves them for you, to brighten up your day like you had brightened hers. You do them such good."

"I try. I try my hardest. They deserve to know even the smallest ounce of kindness."

"You give them all the kindness in your heart."

Someone clears their throat and they both turn to look who has joined them. Noel smiles to them in greeting, Yasmin shuffles nervously, her damp hair trailing down her back, and Raphael smiles back to his young healer.

Thaddeus smiles slightly as he notes his jacket tucked back around the scrawny little thing currently under his care. Yasmin smiles in return, it's small and shy, and she breaks away from the little healer's side, coming to stand at his, the fingers of her right-hand curling into his sleeve gingerly. "Thaddy," she takes a deep breath, averting her eyes. "Can I sleep with you tonight?" She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm…I'm scared."

He reaches over with his free hand, curling it around her cheek, tilting her head up to see into her eyes. "Of course, you can." He rubs her cheek with his thumb. "You can sleep with me for however long you need to." The Warden smiles down at her for a moment before turning his attention back to the Healer. "Thank you, Raph, for making the time."

The archangel nods lightly. "It's quite alright. I am available anytime I am needed." He smiles to the young angel at the Warden's side. "I hope to see you again, Yasmin, it's been a pleasure meeting you."

She nods shyly, curling into the Warden's shoulder slightly, tugging on his sleeve as she does.

Thaddeus hums lightly, nodding softly. "I think we'll make our leave, we still need to have supper," he looks down to the small girl curling into his arm. "And, then I think we'll head to bed."

Raphael smiles at him. "That sounds like a very splendid plan."


	217. History Repeating Itself

He knows he shouldn't have tried it; he's heard rumors about what happens to those who try and escape, they were only rumors, but he didn't want to find out on his own. He's been here a few times, he's managed to annoy the man a number of times, his best was with the snake, he'd never have guessed the deep voiced Warden could scream so high before. He couldn't help it, he was going to be here for a while, he had to find entertainment somehow, and if it just so happened to be at his keepers expense, then so be it, it just made it even better in his opinion.

He never got mad at him for it, annoyed sometimes, but never mad. He took it all in good spirits most of the time and dished back just as well as he received, though his revenge was always in different methods then his own, it was still all in good fun.

He tugged fruitlessly at the binds around his ankles and wrists, there was no give to his pull, and he was left to look around the room in silence. Candles and lamps illuminated the room, gray walls, a tapestry hanging over the table at his feet. His tunic, boots, and socks were folded nicely on the wooden table. He wiggles his toes slightly, looking up to the ceiling, he's been waiting here for at least twenty minutes, if not longer. He wishes he'd hurry up and get on with it.

He tenses at the sound of footsteps, boots clomping against the stone flooring, drawing closer and closer.

They stop right outside the door, and he watches from the table as the door handle turns, the doors pushed open as he steps in. The fingers of his right hand are curled around the handle of a bucket, and for a moment he wonders if he's going to be told to scrub the floors too, that wasn't fun, he didn't want to do that. Tucked under his arm was his file, it was thick with incident reports, though they were all in jest, they still had to be documented. The Warden was exasperated with him more times than not because of all the paperwork he had to fill out due to his _'adventures'_.

He closes the door behind him with a sharp click, and steps forward, he wiggles his fingers over his belly lightly as he comes to stand beside him, raising his right hand to set the bucket beside him, and he giggles, squirming under his playful torment. "Hey, Zophiel."

He smiles up at him, and the Warden returns it in kind. "Hehehehey Thaddy!"

A finger pokes into his belly button and he shrieks lightly, giggling hysterically at it, and the Warden chuckles softly as he pulls back, opening the file he carries with him and sets it over his bare belly. "You make this file fall and these papers spill out everywhere, and I'll blow as many berries over that little button as I want, you understand me?"

Zophiel giggles at the thought of it and nods quickly, not those, not yet.

"So, attempting to escape, that's a new one for you." He wiggles a finger into his side, and he bites back a shriek, mentally keeping himself from squirming away, that file is laying precariously over his belly, any sudden movements will knock it off, and Thaddy totally knows this and is totally cheating. "What's up, Zoph, why'd you pull a runner on me?"

He shrug carefully. "Chahahahange of scenery?"

"Change of scenery, huh?" That wiggling finger slides carefully up under the file and pokes into his belly button again, he bites his lip to keep himself from shrieking again, and he kicks his feet, but his torso doesn't move. Thaddy is _so _trying to get him to drop the file. "You've been here for a while, haven't you, and you still have quite some time to go. Do you have any remorse for your wrongdoing?" He was something akin to a traitor, he'd given papers over to the other side like Barbados, but unlike the other boy, these ones had been of importance. Michael had been furious and sentenced him indefinitely, Zophiel had been here for quite a length of time, and he wouldn't be leaving for a while either. He nods his head, though he liked being with Thaddy, he was nice to him, playful, he missed being on the outside, not staring at the same four walls day in and day out. He'd started marking how many days he'd been here on the wall of his cell with little scratches. Three hundred and seventy-two days, not including those he had been here that had gone unrecorded, he'd been here for over an entire year of his life, and there was no end in the near future.

Thaddeus sighs softly, withdrawing his finger, he knew all the pranks and acting out was because the young angel was bored, he'd been staring at the same four walls for over a year, and Michael hadn't given him an end time either, he was here indefinitely at the moment. "I'll talk to Michael and see what I can do."

Zophiel smiles up at him in appreciation, the Warden's been known to be able to persuade the Archangel to lift sentences, there was hope that he would manage to get his lifted, and he'd be free again. The taste of freedom was so close.

The Warden snatches his file up and closes it swiftly, leaning over to toss it on the wooden table with his boots, socks, and tunic. He smiles as he turns back to him and a smile creeps over his face at the Warden's smile, this is where the fun begins, Thaddy had a great sense of humor.

"You missed bath time with that stunt, Zoph."

He shrugs lightly. "I get to be a stinky boy now."

Thaddeus pokes him on the nose lightly. "Oh, no you don't. Bath time is for everyone, not matter if it's missed or not, you're still getting bathed." He rolls his sleeves up and reaches into the bucket, withdrawing a bar of soap and a scrub brush, Zophiel stares at the brush in horror, he knows the scrub brush well, he has a habit of running around barefoot, Thaddy doesn't like it when you run around barefoot. "I thought that I'd be of assistance to this matter." He rubs the soap and brush together, the bristles turning white with suds from the soap, he drops the bar back into the bucket of water and steps around him, taking the bucket with him, he positions himself above his head, and Zophiel watches him go with wide eyes, he's watching that brush like a hawk, not letting it out of his sight, as though he can make it disappear by shear will power alone. His grace is useless, there are runes carved into the walls that prevent the prisoners from using theirs, but the Warden and guards can, they're allowed. "We'll start with these little armpits, they look like they could use a good scrubbing, and I've had practice at giving little angels good scrubbings."

Zophiel shrieks when he slowly begins lowering the scrub brush towards his bare armpit, it's going to be so bad, he knows it is, and tugs desperately at his arm, but it's fruitless and he knows this. "NO! No Thaddy! Let's talk about this! Get it away! Keep it away from there! Nohohho!" The boy squeals loudly when the brush touches down and begins scrubbing around his right armpit, screaming with laughter as he shakes his head, his fingers spreading wide, straining even, as he falls still from shock for a moment, and then he starts twisting and turning frantically, he's going to make this no easy task.

Thaddy only chuckles. "You better hold still, or I'll hold you still myself."

He doesn't listen though; he just squeals and shrieks and laughs his little angel heart out as that scrub brush tortures his armpit to pieces. The Warden leans forward, pressing his hand to the little prisoner's chest, and Zophiel falls still, screaming brightly when he finds that he can't move, this isn't fair, at least let him squirm around, Thaddy's holding him in place with his grace. "I think my warning being unheeded deserves some kind of consequence." He twists his free hand around in a semi complicated gesture, and he feels his eyes widen as a second brush appears, precovered in soap, and it touches down to his left armpit. Two brushes is unfair, Thaddy is being unfair, but all he can do is squeal again, straining to twist around under the weight of the Warden's grace, screaming with hysterical laughter, he squeals and shrieks with laughter, shaking his head desperately, his arms are unbound from the grace hold, and he shakes his arms and pulls desperately, his fingers spreading wide and straight as he kicks his feet feverishly. Thaddeus chuckles down at him. "Oh, don't worry, we'll get those dirty little feet next." He leans over him as he cackles loudly. "They could do with a good scrubbing too."

…

He waits in anticipation when the door at the end of the hall opens and the sound of boots steps in, the door closes again with a loud creak the lock clicks loudly into the keeper, this is it, this is when he gets told he's free, that Michael is showing mercy and allowing his release. He's been here for almost two years, this is it, this is the end. He's getting out. He's not going to be locked in these cells anymore, behind these bars, staring at the same three walls, he's going to be outside, doing as he pleases, he's going to be _free_. He knows he is. He can feel it in his gut. He can have his favorite fruits again and his favorite juices and his favorite meals. He can sleep in his own bed again and wear his own clothes. He's getting out. He has to. It's been nearly two years.

Thaddeus comes to stand before his cell, reaching for the keys on his belt, part of him wants to rush forward, ask which lines he has to sign, if he's getting the clothes back that he wore in here, when he's allowed to go. Is he going tonight? In the morning? He's okay with either one, he can wait one more night, he's waited nearly six hundred of them.

He stares at the man as he steps into his cell, leaving the door open, because he's leaving, he's coming to guide him out, that's why the cell door is open still, because he's going to be walking out of it a free man. Child? Teenager? Who cares, it's all semantics, all that matters is that he's going to be free.

"When am I going?" He asks excitedly, shaking with anticipation, it's almost over. "Am I going tonight?"

He stares at him intently as the Warden kneels in front of him, reaching out to curl his fingers around his knees, he feels something inside slipping, this wasn't how he imagined it would go, this wasn't right, Thaddy should be smiling, Thaddy should be congratulating him, leading him out of the cell to sign the release forms. "Zoph…." His eyes shine with sympathy instead of happiness for him, and he feels his throat start to close, this isn't how it's supposed to go. "Zoph, I tried to convince him, I told him of your remorse and your good behavior, I did, I tried as hard as I could, I promise you that I did."

_No_. He inhales a shaky breath as his mind tries to wrap around what he's being told, his excitement is starting to collapse around him, shattering into a thousand pieces. _No_. "I—I'm not getting out, a—am I?"

"Zoph, I'm so sorry."

_No. _"B—But he always l—listens to you. Y—You always get them ou—out." _Not this time though. _His voice cracks slightly. "I—I was supposed t—to get out. I—I was supposed to g—go. I'm re—really sorry a—about what I did. D—Does he know? Di—Did you tell him?"

"I did, Zoph, I told him about how sorry you were."

He inhales another shaky breath, he feels the hot tears trailing down his face, his excitement completely gone, laying around him in shattered pieces. "D—Did he sa—say whe—when?"

Thaddeus sighs sadly, reaching up to caress his cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumbs, though he knows more will only follow once he answers. "No." He shakes his head sadly. "He did not."

"I—I'm really, really so—sorry, though! I—I won't ev—ever do it a—again!" He reaches up to curl the fingers of his shaking hands around the Warden's wrists. "Y—You have to t—tell him, Th—Thaddy! If—If he kn—knows he's s—sure to l—let me go!"

"I did tell him, Zoph, I tried to convince him, I told him everything." His heart breaks as he looks into those tear filled wide eyes, he has no end time to offer, Michael hadn't given one, _when I'm satisfied_, that's what he had said, and looking into the raw devastation it left in its wake, Thaddeus curses him for it. Michael is fair, what Zophiel had done was detrimentally destructive, but there was no lesson to be taught in keeping someone behind these bars indefinitely, it only caused more harm then it would good. Michael _can _be cruel. Extremely cruel. "I'm so sorry, Zoph, I'm so sorry."

Zophiel stares between his eyes, looking between them both, looking for any indication of falsehood, and when he finds none he crumbles, his face falls, it crumbles to a thousand pieces, just like his excitement and happiness had, as a sob rips from his throat. _He's not leaving, ever, he's going to be here forever_. That's the mantra that spins through his mind as he sobs himself hoarse, collapsing forward, the Warden catches the youth, curling one arm around him and his other hand around the back of his head, as the boy sobs into his chest. Zophiel had made one mistake, one very bad mistake, and he was paying the ultimate price for it.

Like he said, Michael can be cruel.

His arms wrap limply around his neck, as he curls his fingers under his thighs, lifting him up as he stands. This is the part that breaks his heart, prisoners with indefinite sentences are rare, extremely rare, even those in solitary have an end date, and in his opinion they're the worst. Though they never go back to the rest of society, most meet the same fate the Mindbreaker did, it wasn't fair to the others who's crimes had been horrid, yes, but not as much as _theirs _had been. He stands with the boy in his arms, holding him close, as he sobs himself hoarse into the side of his neck.

Turning, he carries the broken boy from the cell, turning slightly to the guard stationed there. "Gather his things and bring them upstairs. Then you will go to the bazaar, he is a medium, get him four tunics and four pairs of knee-high trousers. He needs boots. Size six. Be sure to get him undergarments." He looks down at the broken boy for a moment. "And, get him a stuffed bear."

The guard nods quickly, stepping into the cell they'd just vacated, gathering the prisoners things up from within. He leaves the guard to it, his guards are very self-sufficient, he'll be up to drop the things off when he's through. He'd have to expand the upstairs again, when the boy was able to be on his own, this was the time he could not be, there was no telling what a distraught broken boy could do to relieve their pain. He'd made a room for his other three boys, it was small, there was a bunkbed and a standard twin, a desk and three small wardrobes. He'd made a room for his girl and little boy, for their privacy, a large queen for them, two small wardrobes and a desk. A fireplace for each room, bed side tables, extra blankets and pillows. He'd have to get another bunkbed for the boys room once Zophiel could be on his own again.

Thaddeus carries the boy upstairs, one arm curled under his bottom and the other hand pressing him close to the side of his neck as he sobbed deeply, babbling about how he was never getting out, he was going to be here forever, and other inaudible nonsense between his harsh sobs. It was wrong for the fun-loving child to be so upset, to have this many tears, he'd never seen him this upset before, sure, there were moments when his indefinite sentence got to him, but never like this. He had gotten his hopes up, not thinking that the outcome might not be one he wanted, and it had broken him for not preparing for it.

He'd tried his hardest, Zophiel was right, Michael did listen to him, for the most part, and he usually did grant his request for early release. Release, at all. But what Zophiel had done was still a sore spot, they _had _lost a number of good men from his error in judgement, he understood Michael's anger, his rage, but this was cruel to a young impressionable boy. Yes, it had been an extremely damaging error in judgement, but to keep him here indefinitely, that was going much too far, in his opinion.

He had not left the room quietly, respectfully, both Michael and Nisroc had watched him leave in a small rage, swiping the things off the Archangels desk, spitting out that he was a cruel bitter angel, that it was a good thing he did not have a youngling of his own, he'd only break them. He'd been enraged, he understands the punishment must be harsh, due to the consequences of the infraction, but at least have the heart to give him an end date to look forward to. He'd slammed the door behind him, hearing Nisroc apologize for his behavior, promising it would be rebuffed, but he paid it no mind as he made his way down the hall from the Archangel's office.

Nisroc had been waiting for him at the entrance of the Prison, he'd clearly flown over to beat him there, and tried to stop him, to confront him about his behavior. But he'd shoved passed him, spitting at him that he was just as cruel as _his _Archangel was if he wouldn't defend a mere boy. Yes, he understands the gravity of his crime, but Zophiel was a boy, a young boy who should not have to spend the rest of his life behind the bars of a cell because of _one _mistake. He'd shoved passed the Captain, telling him to get off his property, that he had prisoners to take care of, because if no one else would, then _he _would. The guards had been hesitant to do so, but he ordered them to close the door, closing it in the shocked Power's face.

He knew his anger and rage had been understood, but there would be consequences for his blatant disrespect, he'd lost his temper horridly, and he knew Nisroc would give him time to take care of the things that needed to be taken care of, but that he would be back, and with him would come the consequences of his actions. Nisroc was _technically _his boss. He may be the Warden of the Prison, but even he had someone he answered to, and that was Nisroc.

He paid it no mind though as he pushed open his bedroom door with his elbow and carried the broken _child _in. Thaddeus carries him over to the bed, uncurling his hand from behind his head to allow him the ability to pull the blankets back, perhaps putting him to sleep was an escape, but he couldn't think of anything else to do. He leans over, laying the boy in the bed, resting his head against the pillows. Zophiel refuses to let go at first, and it breaks his heart when his sob hitches midway through when he reaches back to pry his fingers apart. "I'll be right back. I'll only be a moment, just a moment, and I'll be back."

That didn't seem to comfort the young angel, but he allowed him to stand back up, sobbing again as he crossed over to the cupboard beside his fireplace. He opens the door and reaches in, he keeps them right up front, they're the ones he uses the most, and picks out a sleeping drought from the stash. Leaning over he unties his boot laces, toeing them off where he stands, he pushes them over to his desk with his right foot, and sets the little bottle of medicine down to undo the belt from around his waist.

Nisroc was surely bringing the belt with him when he saw him next.

It would be sooner rather than later.

But he pushed those thoughts out of his mind as he takes the small bottle back in hand and returns to the young angels side, climbing into the bed beside him, he pulls him close, letting him reach up to cling to his tunic, breathing out another sob.

Just another broken child left to him because of one, _one_, mistake.

Thaddeus strokes Zophiel's left cheek softly with a finger. "Zoph, I know you're upset, and you have every right to be, but you're going to make yourself sick if you keep going on like this." He reaches down with his free hand to press his palm to his chest. "You need to calm down, everything will be alright, I'll take care of you, you need to calm down." Zophiel seems to struggle, but he does take into account that he most certainly tries, and he appreciates the effort. "Take a deep breath for me, can you do that for Thaddy?" Zophiel nods, sucking in a deep breath mid sob, it cuts off quickly. He holds it, staring up at him with wide watery eyes, and he waits a minute before he tells him to let it go. They do it twice more, until the sobs die in his chest and he just hiccups softly as his lungs begin to fill again with much needed oxygen. He strokes his curls back, and caresses his left cheek, rubbing it with his thumb again.

"Unfortunately, you can't leave." The boy stutters a hiccup. "But, _but,_" he rubs his cheek again. "You're going to come up here and stay with me, until I deem it well enough to move you to the boy's room, you'll have to share unfortunately, not much space to go around, I can only expand the upstairs so much, okay?" Zophiel sniffles, hiccupping softly, he looks like a fledgling. "You're not going back to a cell, you'll stay here, I'm going to have someone go get your proper clothing so you don't have to wear those prison uniforms anymore, you can't leave this building, but you are free to roam, if there is something you want then you just ask me and I will go get it myself or send one of my guards to do so, alright?" The boy nods again, still clutching to his tunic. "I'm sorry that I can't free you for real, I would, I would in a heartbeat, I _know _how sorry you are, I _do_. But my hands are tied. I technically can't. However," he strokes his cheek again when a stray tear escapes from his eye, he strokes the tear up. "However, I'm going to give you as much freedom as I can while being confined to this building, you'll have a guard escort with you at all times, the others do too, and you can go anywhere you want except for the Solitary block, that part is blocked off. Do you understand?"

Zophiel nods again, hiccupping softly once more, and he pulls the small bottle up, uncapping it, he holds it out to the boy's lips. "Drink this for me, you need a good rest after that, and you'll get it." Zophiel eyes it. "I promise to wake you up for supper, I will cook it while you're asleep, we're having chili, perfect for this kind of weather, chili and corn bread." The boy nods lightly, opening his mouth, allowing the Warden to pour the contents of the bottle in. He swallows it, smacking his lips lightly, making a slight face at the aftertaste, and it takes a few moments, but his eyes begin to flutter. He urges him into sleep gently, stroking his cheek tenderly, softly whispering to him encouragements.

He stays at his side until he knows the boy is asleep, and then he carefully crawls out of bed, tucking the blankets around him, he crosses around to the kitchenette, stokes the fire into a nice cooking fire, and silently begins preparing their meal. He checks on him every so often, to make sure he's still asleep, and smiles when he doesn't move, sleeping peacefully, he wheezes softly as he breaths in and out, his nose still stuffy from his breakdown earlier.

Suppers done sooner then he expected it to be, and he presses a finger over his lips, silently commanding them to be silent as the other kids line up for their heaping helping. They all look over to the new boy sleeping in the Warden's bed, and nod, they remember when they were first taken in, it's harder for some and easier for others.

They all exit silently, back to their rooms to eat, as to not disturb their new family member, and he stirs the chili in the pot lightly, before taking a seat on the other side of the bed, pulling a book over, he'll let the boy sleep a bit longer, the chili and corn bread will stay warm until he wakes him up. He needs a good rest after everything, the first step to mending a broken heart, it all started with a good rest.

…

He doesn't mind that Zophiel seemingly clings to him after that, always huddling against his side, clutching at his sleeve, fingers curling in the belt around his waist, he's reverted to a fledgling like state in his grief, and he allows him to cling on as much as he needs to. He finds himself working most days with the boy straddling his lap, legs hanging around either side, feet dangling, curled up against his shoulder, one hand clutching at the front of his tunic and his other arm curled tightly around his stuffed bear. The stuffed animal had become a constant companion for the boy, he brought it with him wherever he went, he had not been wrong in ordering the guard to get him one those weeks ago.

His nose is stuffy this time, another episode, he's fallen into a sort of depressive state, but he's here, he'd not letting the boy go for anything short of a riot. He'd managed to pull him down in this position, straddling his waist, as he leans back slightly in the chair behind his desk, pulling the boy to rest against his shoulder, he cried himself to sleep, wheezing softly in his slumber, curled against the Warden, his teddy bear hugged close with the arm that wasn't wrapped limply around the older angel's chest.

That's how Nisroc comes to find them. Zophiel sound asleep, and him leaning back in his chair, writing up an incident report for the fight that had broken out between two prisoners in solitary with one hand, and rubbing at the boy's back with the other. The door to his office opens silently and he looks up, expecting to see one of his other kids and their escort or one of his guards, but when it's Nisroc who pokes his head in, he grunts softly, as to not disturb his kid sleeping against his chest, and looks back down to his paperwork.

"Thaddy, may I come in?"

"The doors already open, so you might as well." There's still a rough patch between them all. They've had a few come for asylum since the whole event those weeks ago, and he's been doing all his speaking through the Healer, he keeps himself and his kids, official or not, here. And, if any of the others have a problem with it, he doesn't give a flying rats ass, they can shove it up their ass and keep it there. He presses a kiss to the side of Zophiel's head, _especially _Michael. "But keep it quiet, I just got him to sleep, I don't want to have to do it again."

Nisroc nods in understanding, closing the door behind him, crossing over to take a seat on the other side of the desk. Thaddeus spares him a single glance as he continues his work, and rubbing at Zophiel's back, he meant what he said, the poor boy had cried himself to sleep, he didn't want him to have to do it again. "I see you've taken the boy in."

He spares him a heated glare. "_I _won't _abandon _him like _everyone else _has."

"He's hardly been abandoned—"

"_Hasn't he?" _He hisses quietly, dropping his pen on his desk, he turns quickly, shushing the younger angel when he murmurs against his shoulder, stroking his hair and urging him back to sleep, then he turns back to the Power. "It's been nearly two _years _since he first came, and we _still _haven't been given a determined _sentence_. He's just waiting here, wasting away, while Michael twiddles his thumbs up his ass and can't get over _one _mistake. As though _he's_ perfect. Zophiels actions did take the lives of twelve men, yes, but how many lives are stained on _his _hands."

"He is a traitor."

"So is your precious _Sablo_." He spits out, it catches the Captain by surprise, and he's happy to see that he grows tense at the calling of the youngest Power's name, they all know how fond he is of the boy. "He gives away our secrets all the time on his little missions to the other side." He brushes Zoph's curls back and rests his chin on the side of his head. "The _only _difference between the two is that one had permission while the other did not. How many lives have been lost because of the information he's given out?" He stares at him harshly. "Does that make _him _a traitor?"

Nisroc stares at him for a long moment, he can see that the Warden is clearly passionate about this, he always has been when he feels as though his prisoners are being abused or neglected. Though the situation was vastly different, he had to acknowledge that there had been a point made in that statement, Sable _does _give away information when he's out playing his role on the other side.

He sighs, leaning over, rubbing his fingers over his mouth. "Thaddy, I acknowledge that there's a point there, but those are two vastly different scenarios."

"If you've come here just to _defend _Michael, then you know where the door is," Thaddeus jerks his chin towards the door behind the Power. "You can leave."

"Thaddy," he rubs at his forehead this time. "I did not come here to do that. Thaddy, the boy did wrong, yes, but Michael's decision stands."

"Michael's _decision_?" He barks a soft bitter laugh. "There was no _decision _that was made. We're all still waiting on his _decision_." He shakes his head. "Tell me, does this look like a bad guy to you?" He turns slightly, revealing the sleeping boy's peaceful face to the Power. "Does this look like a traitor?" Zophiel looks like a fledgling when he sleeps, especially when he sleeps with his bear, which he is now, all cuddled up against the Warden's shoulder, his teddy bear pressing up under his nose, as he sleeps blissfully unaware to the conversation around him. "This is a boy. A c_hild. _Who made _one _fatal mistake, and Michael, _Michael_, is perfectly happy to just lock him away and throw away the key without second thought."

Nisroc stares at the sleeping boy for a long time, at his peaceful face, listening to the soft wheeze through his stuffy nose, to the bear he curls against his face, and he sighs deeply, rubbing his face lightly with his right hand. "Thaddy, there's nothing that can be done."

"You didn't even _try_." Thaddeus is having none of it, Zophiel is one of his kids now, and he takes care of his kids. "You didn't even _try _and defend him. You just stood there, nodding along, you didn't say _anything_. You could have done _something. _You're supposed to protect those, defend those, that can't do so for themselves." He shakes his head. "_But_ you didn't do anything for this one."

Then he says something that leaves his mind in shambles. "Gadreel was here for as long as he was because Michael _forgot_ about him," he turns back to face the oldest Power. "Are you really going to let that happen to another one?"


	218. Making The Church Mouse Squeal

"Alright, Qas, you've shadowed a number of positions," his captain leans forward against his desk. "Have you chosen where you want to go?"

Qaspiel rubs at his chin thoughtfully, this was a difficult choice, this would decide where he went for the rest of his career, unless something happened and he needed to be moved, this was his only chance to make the decision. He nods, tilting his head lightly. "I want to work in the Prison."

"The Prison?" Titus nods lightly. "Thaddeus is looking for a new guard to escort his new charge around." He nods again. "I'll see what I can do. In the mean time you can shadow one of the Prison guards until we can get your position squared away."

The younger angel nods slightly. "Okay."

The Power smiles at him, leaning back in his chair. "You really aren't one for too many words, are you?"

He shrugs. "I just don't have much to say."

"You're as quiet as a church mouse, I barely hear a peep out of you, you could be standing behind me the entire time and I wouldn't have the slightest idea you were there." He rubs at his chin thoughtfully and nods, Qaspiel feels a slight tick in nerves at the light that comes to his captain's eyes, but he brushes it off, Tus has been nothing if not stern since he's known him. He stands from his chair and gestures for him to follow, he stands stepping out from before the chair when the Power steps out from behind his desk, leading him from the office. Qaspiel follows dutifully, as silent as the night, the only indication that he's following is the sound of his boots hitting the stone flooring.

Titus leads him down the hall, up the stairs that lead to the Pavilion, he's been up here, when he'd first been rescued from that captive situation, he'd stayed with Tus for a number of weeks. He looks up at the back of his captains head. "Sir, where are we going?"

"Just follow me," he leads him through the Lounge back to the bedrooms. "You're going to help me with something."

He nods, he's happy to help as much as he can, and steps into the Power's room when he gestures him in, turning to watch his captain step in and close the door behind him. Titus smiles at him as he turns to face him, placing his hands on his hips lightly, and Qaspiel fidgets lightly. "So…What can I help you with?"

"You're going to help me figure something out."

He tilts his head. "Help you figure out what?"

The Power rushes forward quickly, he doesn't have much time to react, when arms around curling under him and lifting him from his feet. He yelps as he's swept up, looking down at the Power with wide alarmed eyes, curling his fingers over the elder's shoulders. "To see if I can make my church mouse squeal."

"I—I don't understand."

"All work and no play makes for a very boring Tus." He smiles up at him, resting his chin on his lower belly. "I never hear you laugh, _really _laugh, oh, I hear you chuckle softly, sometimes I hear a quiet little giggle, but I've never heard you _laugh._" He steps forward, heading for the bed, carrying the young guard with him, he was one of his youngest, just a year older then Sora was, just a baby guard. "But that's going to change. I want to make you laugh. I want to make you shriek, squeal with laughter, just like a little fledgling." Qaspiel smiles despite himself, his fingers curling around the Power's shoulders just a bit tighter, as they come to stand beside the bed. "And I've been taught by the two best tickle torturers in the business."

He gulps slightly. "Tickle torture?"

Titus nods, smiling up at him mischievously. "Oh, yes, tickle torture. I'm going to find all those spots that drive you crazy. I'm going to make my church mouse squeal by tickle torture."

Qaspiel gulps again. "I—I'm not ticklish."

"Now, I don't think I believe that." He smiles again, eyes gleaming. "Are you sure?" He leans closer. "You better not be lying to me, because then I'd have to punish you."

He gulps for a third time. "I—I'm sure."

Titus smiles up at him. "We'll just have to find out then, won't we, I'll tell you what, if you're lying to me, then I get to go at that bare belly of yours. But if you're not, I'll let you have anything from my collection. Sound like a deal?"

Qaspiel shakes his head. "..No…."

"I think it sounds like a deal, so it's a deal." He leans over, and Qaspiel yelps as he falls backwards, bouncing over the Power's bed. Titus catches him by the ankles and quickly unties his boots, tossing them aside, and he raises his hands defensively as the Power climbs up over him. Titus catches one of his hands, raising it up over his head as he leans up over him, laying down over top of him to keep him in place. "Let's just see if you're not ticklish." He leans over his chest, up over his right armpit, and reaches up to wiggle a finger over his armpit. Qaspiel doesn't even try to hold it back, despite his precarious position, it still catches him by surprise, and he shrieks brightly.

Titus chuckles lightly. "I _knew _you were lying." He pushes himself downwards, letting go of his wrist. "Let me have that belly." Qaspiel giggles frantically as the Power slowly undoes the belt from around his waist, batting fruitlessly at his hands, his captain undoes the buckle and tugs it from around his waist, tossing it over to the side with his boots, and his hands snake up under his tunic.

He shrieks again, loud and bright, when ten fingers wiggle into his lower belly. Bright boisterous laughter explodes from him, as he kicks his legs under the Power's weight and bats at the hands under his tunic. He throws his head back, arching his back, squealing with laughter when two fingers wiggle on either side of his belly button. "There we go! My little church mouse can squeal!" He tugs his tunic up slightly, revealing his belly button. "Let's keep it up." And he takes a deep breath, his head rushing down, lips press to his belly button, and a shrill squeal fills the room when he blows a harsh berry over the sensitive flesh. He chuckles against his belly when he feels the fingers curl into his hair, pushing and pulling at the same time, not sure which one to do at the present moment, but knowing he has to get him away. The Power takes another deep breath and presses in deeply, blowing another harsh berry over his belly button, and he screams, arching his back and kicking his feet again.

Arms wind under his back, fingers curling up around his sides, as he turns to the side, tilting his head slightly, and takes another deep breath. Qaspiel shrieks with laughter as he rests there, preparing himself for the worst, pushing at the Power's head as much as he can, squealing like a fledgling when he finally blows his berry, cackling madly when the elder shakes his head lightly. "I love this! Just listen to you! This is the most I've heard out of you in a week!" He tilts his head to the other side and blows another berry, Qaspiel throws his head back, squealing and cackling madly. "Now, you're officially one of my guards." He leans down, pressing his lips under his belly button, and takes another deep breath before blowing another massive berry. "We're going to do this again. Over and over, because I can't get enough of it, and you're much too quiet."

He wiggles his fingers into his sides, and the young guard shrieks, squirming from side to side as much as he can given his binding. "I'm gonna have to tell Thaddeus about this too, he likes the quiet ones, they're his favorite ones to play with." He rushes down and blows a quick raspberry over his belly button, making his squeal again. "He's going to have fun with you." He leans down, lowering himself to rest over his wiggling belly, still wiggling his fingers in his sides. "Is my little church mouse just a wee bit ticklish?"

Qaspiel nods frantically.

"I thought you were." The Power unwinds his arms from around him, and crawls up over him, until his stomach presses against his face, he feels arms curl around his shoulders, and he yelps breathlessly as he's flipped over, resting between his captain's legs, his head cushioned on his stomach. Fingers brush through his curls as he lays there, limp, giggling breathlessly, softly, as he rests where he lays. "Thanks for helping me."

Qaspiel nods again.

"There is one more thing I want you to do for me, Qas, this is most important, if you're going to be a Prison guard, you'll need this skill and the perks that come with it."

Qaspiel nods, looking up at him, twisting his head up on his stomach.

Titus smiles down at him, poking him on the nose lightly.

"All of my guards are angel hounds." He stares in surprise and the Power continues. "It's a gift bestowed on you when you take the oath and accept the position. You're young, you're just a puppy, but your senses will be just as strong as those of a grown hound, and if you're going to be a Prison guard, you'll need those senses."

Qaspiel nods firmly, read for instructions.

Titus nods in turn, resting his hand on the back of the younger angel's neck, where the scruff of the puppy would be. "The trick for getting in and out of the hound form is focus and control. When you want to come out, you focus on your humanoid visage, you see yourself being what you picture mentally, and your grace will do the rest. It's the same for changing into hound form, if you focus on yourself being a hound, picture it in your mind, then your grace will make the change." Qaspiel nods again, slightly, staring up at him. "I want you to focus on being a hound, picture yourself in that form in your mind, you're going to stay like that for the night to help you get used to that form, can you do that for me?"

The young guard nods, closing his eyes tightly, his face set in determination. Titus watches him as he gains his focus, he can see the gears turning in his mind, and three minutes into their silence, the guards form starts to shimmer and morph, it's sloppy at first, slow, but it manages to come through, and he finds his fingers curled into the fluff of the scruff of a dark little puppy.

He lifts the puppy up, setting him on his stomach again, it's four little legs shake slightly, unused to being used, and he falls onto his belly the first time. The Power helps him back to his paws, and the puppy barks softly, and takes on a surprised expression, eyes widening, and barks again. "Yes, Qas, that's you." He pets a few fingers down the back of his head, the puppy leans into the touch, sighing happily. "You're adorable." The puppy barks again, flopping down over his stomach, nudging his hand with its snout when he stops scratching it's head. "You get some sleep. Changing for the first time is always tiring. I'll stay with you." He scratches the puppy's head gently and watches as bright blue eyes begin to flutter closed, and the puppy exhales softly as it slips off to sleep. "There you go, my pup, get some sleep."


	219. The Dog Dad

He sighs as he rests in the middle of the bed, laying on his side, he licks absently at his front leg as he lays there, mindful of the pup resting. The puppy had been playing, tugging at his tail and tugging at his ears, and then he'd gotten sleepy, climbed up on his side, and plopped himself down to take a nap. He licks absently at his other paw, turning slightly to check on the sleeping puppy, before returning to his cleaning.

Someone knocks on the door softly, and he growls lowly, they better not wake the puppy. The door opens silently and a head pokes in. "Tus, is everything okay, I haven't seen you since supper." Nisroc's eyes widen to see him in this form, Titus rarely takes it, only on certain occasions, and his eyes roam slightly. He spies the puppy and smiles, stepping into the room quietly, the large hound growls lowly in warning. "Don't worry I won't wake the puppy."

He knows it's not Mihr, he knows what the fledgling looks like when he's in hound form, and Tus hasn't changed forms for him, not that he's aware of, so that only left one other being. The Captain smiles, looking down to the hound Power for clarification, and leans over to stroke a finger under the puppy's chin. "Is it Sora?" The puppy yawns widely and settles back down. "Did he finally find his hound form?"

Titus barks softly, nudging his hand away, he better not wake up the puppy sleeping on his side.

Nisroc pulls his hand back, raising his hands placatingly. "Alright, alright, I'll leave him be. But he's adorable. A little ball of fluff." He gives the older hound a knowing smile. "You must be a proud papa."

The large hound barks softly, turning slightly, he snags the puppy up by the scruff and pulls him around, the puppy curls up in his grip, whining softly, and curls up again when he's set between the older hounds two front legs, falling back to sleep.

The Captain smiles again, nodding his head. "I thought you would be."

…

The puppy whines as it squirms under him, not wanting it's bath, but having no choice in the matter. The older hound leans away when the puppy manages to roll over, batting at his snout with his little paws, trying to deter him from his bathing. He huffs softly, dipping down, he presses his nose to the puppy's soft chubby little belly, sniffing slightly, and gives that little belly a big lick.

Sora, the puppy, yaps and squeaks when he nibbles softly, squirming on it's back like a little worm. The older hound barks softly, as though laughing, and holds the puppy in place with a paw, he licks the warm little belly playfully. The little thing kicks his little legs, barking and yapping brightly, his little tail wagging like crazy

The others chuckle around them at the two hounds, sitting around them, they've been in hound form since Friday, it had been a rough week for the little guard, and they'd found him curled up on Titus's pillow as a little puppy. Titus had taken one look at him and changed with him, jumping up on his bed, he gathered the puppy up by the scruff and laid down with him, curling around the puppy protectively.

And, now, here they were. The lot of them just relaxing in the Lounge, talking amongst each other or reading, Puriel had taken up knitting for some reason, he was working on a scarf.

They watched him play with the puppy, leaning in close so the puppy could bite around his ear lightly and tug at it playfully, all the while he was licking his belly.

'_Papa! Papa! That tickles!'_

The older hound pulls away slightly. _'Sora, you learned how to talk! That's amazing! I'm so proud!'_

'_Papa, that tickles my belly!' _

He snorts softly, licking the puppy's belly again. _'I know it does, my little pup, that's why I'm doing it.' _And, he licks the puppy's belly again, nibbling softly. _'Does that tickle your belly too?'_

The puppy squeaks, barking again, squirming from side to side. _'Yes, papa! Tickles, tickles!'_

'_Are you going to be a good little puppy and let me finish your bath or am I going to have to keep going at this belly?'_

The puppy bats at his snout lightly. _'Let you finish, papa!'_

'_Good boy.'_

…

Titus heaves a sigh as he opens the door to his office, he just got back from his meeting with Thaddy, where he'd been made aware of Osmadiel's attack on one of the prisoners, he'd been in hound form, seeing as Sora had been too, and Saba, and he'd bitten one of the prisoners. Thaddeus had sent word to his captain at once, dismissed the guard from his duties, and he'd been sent back to his captain's office immediately

He opens the door and sees the hound immediately, looking much like a puppy about to be scolded, laying flat on his belly, peeking out over his paws. He steps into his office and closes the door, resting his hands on his hips. "What on earth were you thinking?"

The hound whines softly.

"Don't think being cute is going to get you out of this." He points to his feet. "Come here."

Osmadiel whines softly, rising from his laying position, he trudges over to the Power's feet. Standing at his feet, Titus kneels, grabbing him by the scruff, he reaches out and smacks the hound on the rump firmly. Osmadiel yelps, barking apologetically, tugging at his hold. Titus shakes him firmly. "Hold still. You earned this." The hound lowers his head, tail tucking between his two back legs, whimpering softly as the Power continues his well earned spanking. When he's done, he lifts the hounds head up with his free hand, and glares down at him. "Don't you _ever _do that again." The hound whines softly. "If you bite someone again, I'll put soap in your mouth, do you want that?" The hound whines again. "That's what I thought." He points over his head. "Now, you go stand in that corner until suppers ready." The hound whines again, licking his nose lightly, and he can't help but smile. "Yes, yes, I forgive you."

…

Sabaoth whines as he's dragged forward by the larger hound, the older hound drags him forward, over his two front legs. He lays there, over the larger hounds two front legs, resting his head on his paws as a large warm tongue starts licking at the fur on his neck.

He sighs in content, he, personally, likes being bathed. It's relaxing and he likes the attention. He rolls over slightly, over his captain's front legs, rolling onto his side, he stretches out slightly, batting his right paw out gently.

Titus huffs softly, fondly, and starts licking over the side of his neck. He rubs his head against the younger hound's, nuzzling him softly, and Sabaoth purrs gently, turning slightly, licking at his snout softly in comfort. He nips at the hounds ear lightly, tugging gently, and the younger hound lays back down, letting the Power hound return to his bathing. When he's finished, he rubs against the side of the younger hounds head again and lays over him. Sabaoth nuzzles against his paw lightly, settling down comfortably, perfectly ready to take a nap.

The older hound barks softly when there's a knock to his door, and it opens slightly, a head poking in. Puriel smiles down at them, stepping into the room, shaking out his first grand creations. "I knitted you a blanket." The hound rolls his eyes and lays back down. The medic lays the knitted blanket over the two hounds, then he steps around them, stoking the fire back up. He pets the larger hounds head gently. "You two have a nice nap."

…

They chuckle as they watch the oldest hound chase after the others, it had started with the puppies; Rahab, Sora, and Qaspiel tugging at Titus's ears and tail until he got up to make chase, and then Osmadiel and Sabaoth had walked in on them, being the big puppies that they were, they jumped forward, changed into hound form, and tackled the larger hound when his back was turned.

He tackles Osmadiel, wrestling him over onto his back, and licks playfully at his belly. The younger hound shrieks and barks, kicking at the air as he wiggles under the older hound, and he's only freed when two of the puppies jump onto the oldest hounds back and begins tugging on his ears again.

They watch as he jumps up, falling over onto his side, the two puppies tumbling off him and into a heap on the ground. The older hound growls playfully and catches them both, laying over them as he begins his attack on their soft little bellies, they wiggle and bark brightly, batting at his snout when he turns his attack onto them, and then the other when he turns to them too.

Another large hound, not as large as the oldest, creeps across the field, stalking it's pray. Sabaoth coming to the youngest ones rescue, he jumps at the right moment, tackling the large hound off of them, and the two of them wrestle for a long moment, growling and barking playfully. Until they older of the two snags the younger by the scruff, and flips him over onto his side, then he goes for his belly.

One of the little puppies strays from the pack, running across the field as best as it's four little legs will carry it, and jumps up to press it's two front paws to the Captain's leg. Nisroc chuckles and bends over, curling his fingers around the little puppy's chubby middle, and lifts him up into his lap.

"Oh, you think Nis will protect you from your papa, do you?" He cradles the puppy in his lap and scratches at his belly playfully, the puppy barks brightly, kicking his four little legs as he finds sensitive spots all over his chubby little belly. "Your not safe with Uncle Nis, are you, baby Sora?"

Puriel elbows him lightly and he looks up to the medic next to him, he nods out to the field. "Watch out, papa is looking for his pup." Nisroc looks over, true to his word, Titus was searching out for the missing puppy as the others played and wrestled around him, chuckling lowly, he whistles softly, and the large hound turns in his direction. He holds the wiggly little puppy up, and the oldest hound barks, trotting forward. He holds the little puppy out, and the large hound snags him up by the scruff, turning, he trots back to the fray and drops the little puppy, bending forward, he traps him on his back with a paw, and leans down to lick at his belly again.

Puriel elbows him again. "Look at your boys."

He follows the direction he's pointing and smiles at the other two grown hounds, wrestling for the upper hand, growling and barking loudly, the older one flips the younger over onto his back with a proper thud, and settles over him to lick and nibble at his belly.

Nisroc chuckles lightly. "Try as he might, Os will never be able to best Saba."

Titus watches them for a minute, letting the older hound have a good go at his younger brother's belly, the puppies climbing all over him, and then he stands, trotting after them, knocking the little puppies off, they're not put out by his leaving them, they jump at each other, wrestling and rolling around.

The oldest hound trots after the two, and then he jumps, knocking the one hound off the other, and returns the same treatment he was giving to his younger brother.

Osmadiel leaves his older brother to his fate and trots back over to the puppies, flopping down for them to climb over him, nipping at them when they each take a turn to tug on his ears.

"Perfect day for some fun in the sun."

Puriel nods at his Captain. "It sure is." He taps his foot slightly. "Wanna get Tus?"

Nisroc rubs his hands together. "Oh, I thought you'd never ask."


	220. The Hounds Only Weakness

The large hound backs away from the approaching figures, growling lowly, looking between the two of them as cautiously as a hound can manage. They approach, unphased by his growling, they approach, chuckling lightly at his attempt to be threatening. He was about as harmful as a puppy to them.

"That won't get you out of what's coming your way," the older of the two comes up on his right. "We'll get you in that form and force you out of it." The other nods, smirking playfully, he knows how to force hounds to change forms, there's a rune to trace on the hounds forehead, and he knows the rune that needs tracing. "You're not getting out of this, baby brother."

They jump at him, and he barks in surprise, trying to evade their grasp, but one manages to catch him around the middle, wrestling him down on his back. Fingers curl around his paws and pull them back, above his head, and the other straddles over him.

The hound shrieks, barking brightly when the other one scratches his fingers over his soft belly, kicking with his hind legs, he squirms from side to side, barking and yapping feverishly. "That's right, baby brother, I know just how sensitive this soft tummy is. I used to play with this soft little belly when you were a small fledgling."

"Puri, if you would be so kind?"

"Of course, Nis, it would be my pleasure." The hound snaps at his fingers as he reaches up, but he misses, and the medic traces a very specific rune over the hounds forehead, unlocking his form, and he shimmers under them, the paws turn into hands, and the hound changes out into a man, struggling under their weight and hold.

"I appreciate it, Puri, now I can join." The Captain takes both wrists into one hand and reaches out with he freed one, fluttering his fingers over the younger Power's exposed armpit. Titus shrieks brightly, tugging at his wrists desperately, and both older Powers chuckle at his expense, and Puriel smiles down at him, wiggling his fingers into his belly. Titus shrieks again, kicking his legs behind his older brother, shaking his head frantically.

"Aw, listen to that, Nis," the medic wiggles his fingers up his up his sides, Titus shrieks and squirms around. "We made the quiet little puppy squeal."

"That we did, that we did," he moves up from his armpit to wiggle a finger behind his ear, and he eeps, shaking his head and trying to scrunch his shoulder up. The medic finds a sensitive spot under his belly button. "Isn't our puppy a cutie?"

Nisroc nods, scratching his finger under the younger's chin, the young man squeaks, scrunching up as best as he can. "He's the cutest puppy I've ever seen." He shrugs a shoulder. "Well, after Sora, now, that's one adorable puppy."

Puriel looks up at him, dipping a finger into the younger Power's belly button, Titus squeals softly, shimmying his hips around, trying to such in his belly. "No, you're right, _Sora_ is the most adorable puppy I've ever seen." He smiles down at their hysterical younger brother. "He takes after his papa."

"That he does," their Captain nods. "That he does." He scratches his finger back down behind his ear. "They're both a couple of cute puppies."

The medic chuckles lightly. "A pair of mighty ticklish puppies."

"_Our _mighty ticklish puppies."


	221. The Sin Of Stealing

"Have any of you seen my sword?" They all look up as their Captain appears at the entrance of the hall, his hands resting lightly on his hips, they each exchange a look and shake their heads, they haven't seen it. "I was going to sharpen it, the blades gone dull, but I can't find it for the life of me."

"Nis," they all look over at the call of his voice, the medic standing before the windows overlooking the training field glances at him from over his shoulder, and he nods to the view before him. Nisroc sighs, leaving his place from the hall to come to a stand at his side, clearly, there is something he wants to show him. "Isn't that your sword?" He points to someone in the distance, and he squints, leaning forward in an attempt to gain a better picture of them, his eyes roam over what he's looking at, looking for any tell signs that it is, in fact, _his_ sword. Something catches his eye, a ruby, at the end of the hilt, flashes in the sunlight, and he hums softly, nodding his head lightly. "It sure is."

Abraxos joins them on Puriel's other side, squinting at the figure with the stolen sword, it was rare that someone managed to swipe something so important from one of them, especially the Captain, this was no ordinary person.

The others watch them, in waiting to see if they can identify the thief, and all three Powers stare at them for a long moment as though to make sure they were absolutely certain they knew who they were looking at.

The medic whistles softly, leaning back slightly. "It seems our Baby Power has gotten himself into some trouble."

The others behind the exchange looks at the knowledge that it was one of their own, it made sense though, only one of them would be able to get close enough.

Nisroc hums deeply, crossing his arms for a moment as he watches the youngest Power swing _his _sword around, and nods his head lightly. "He most certainly has." He turns then, towards the stairs, and disappears down them. The others come up to watch, it takes a moment, but they see him march out from under the Pavilion, crossing the training field stiffly, and reach over the younger angel's head to snag his sword back up. His back's to them, but they know he's saying something, by the way Sablo shrinks into himself and jumps around, he quickly responds, waving his hands frantically, too bad none of them can read lips. Nisroc leans forward, poking him in the chest, the Baby Power's eyes widen, and their Captain snags him by the ear, calling something over his head, and turns, his face set into something harsh, and drags the Baby Power forward. Sablo stumbles to keep up with him, his mouth moving a mile a minute, and their Captain shakes his head sharply, tugging on his ear, barking something out firmly.

They all scatter when they disappear below them, back to pretending they were distracted, Puriel falls onto some cushions and pulls his yarn and knitting needles around, but they can't help it, they all look up when their Captain and Baby Power appear over the final step. Nisroc pays them no mind, the flat of his sword resting on his shoulder, Sablo stutters out apologies as he stumbles with him, and they watch the two of them disappear down the hall, and a door clicks shut a few moments later.

Puriel looks up from his knitting, sharing a look with Abraxos, and the other Power nods lightly. "Baby Power is in for a very _sore_ night."

…

"I said to be _silent_, Sablo." The frantic stuttering halts and he kicks the door closed behind him, dragging the youngest Power forward as he sets his sword to lean against his wardrobe door, pulling the young angel around, he glares down at him sternly. "You want to tell me why you _stole _from me?"

"I—I had to, Nis!" Sablo tugs at his wrist, trying to pull the elder Power's fingers off from around his ear, if anything, the fingers tighten around his ear. "They said I had to!"

He tugs firmly on the ear in his grip and the boy eeps. "_Who _told you to steal from me?"

"_They _did!" Sablo gives up on trying to tug on the Captain's wrist and instead tugs on his tunic. "They said I wasn't a real Power unless I could prove it!"

The Captain purses his lips firmly, he knew who _'they' _were immediately, and rests his free hand on his hip firmly. "Sablo, why didn't you tell me they were bullying you again?"

"I—I didn't want to burden you! I'm a big boy! I wanted to handle it by myself!"

He finally lets go of his ear, curling his fingers under his chin instead, turning his head up to look him in the eyes. "But, you don't _have _to deal with it." Sablo stares up at him with wide eyes. "You're _supposed _to tell me, so that _I _candeal with it."

The boy nods. "And I will! I will!"

"But, you _didn't_." He shakes his head firmly. "Instead, you let the control your judgement and _steal _from me."

"It won't happen again, Nis, I swear!"

"You're right." The Captain nods firmly, moving his fingers back up to curl around his ear. "The first time, I let you off because they were baiting you." He tugs the youngest Power forward and Sablo stumbles forward, his eyes wide and alarmed. "This time, this I am _not _letting go." He drags the younger angel forward, to the desk in the corner, and pulls him around, before him, letting go of his ear to tug his trousers down slightly, just enough to reveal his bottom, and pushes him forward to bend over the side of the desk.

Sablo shakes as he listens to him step away, and then bites his lip when he feels the cool thick leather press against his backside, preparing himself for it. "If you're going to take my sword, you're going to need the sheath."

"Nis, wait—OOOWWWWWW!" He shrieks when the sheath whizzes through the air and whaps over his bottom, jumping in place, he wails when it pulls back again and comes around just as harshly. Nisroc is really upset with him, he's really done it this time, and he wails as it comes back around once more. "Nis! Nis, I'm sorry! Stop! OWWWWWIIIEEEEEEEE! I'm sorry!"

"Don't you _ever _take my sword again, do you understand me?"

"I do! I understand! OOOWWWWWWW! Please! Never again! Please, Nis! It hurts!"

"If they start in on you again, I _expect _you to come to me, am I understood?"

He nods frantically, tears streaming down his face, his bottom us burning, it's on fire. He's sorry he ever let _them _talk him into taking Nis's sword. He vows that it'll never happen again. Nisroc gives a few more blows, and he wails, sobbing like a fledgling, and then the throws stop. He doesn't even notice, he's sobbing too hard, wailing into his hands. A warm presence comes up behind him, large hands tug his trousers back up, and fingers curl around his upper arms, turning him away. They pull his hands away, and those large warm hands curl around his cheeks, rubbing the tears away with the thumbs. "Don't you ever do that again; do you understand me?"

Sablo nods frantically, reaching back to rub desperately at his stinging bottom, sniffling pitifully as he stares up at the older Power. "N—Never!"

"Good boy," he pulls him in. "C'mere." Sablo curls in close, clutching at the front of his tunic as he sobs into his chest, his bottom hurts like nothing else, it's on fire. He rubs at his back softly, cooing down to him gently, petting a hand down the back of his head. "Sshhh, sshhh, it's alright." The elder Power guides him over to the bed, where he sits him down, and he sits beside him, pulling him around as he lays back against the pillows. "There you go, it's alright."

Sablo curls around him, his sobs hiccupping out, and Nisroc reaches over for a hankie off his night table, leaning back to hold it over his nose. "Blow your nose." He does as he's told, and his older brother rubs his nose clean, and leans back over to set the hankie back on the bedside table. "There you go, it's alright, all is forgiven."

"I'm really sorry, Nis." He sniffles as he looks up at him, his oldest brother smiles down at him, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.

"I know you are, baby boy." He rubs their noses together. "I'll take care of those bullies for you, alright, when I'm through with them, they'll know not to mess with my baby boy again."

The Baby Power smiles up at him lightly. "I love you, big brother."

"I love you too, baby brother."


	222. The Warden's Puppy

He coos down at the wiggling little puppy, laying in his lap, yapping and barking happily, as he scratches lightly at his little chubby belly. "Who's a cute little puppy? Who is it?" The puppy barks up at him brightly, squirming to the side, reaching out to catch his fingers with his little teeth. "Who's the cute little puppy? Is it you? Are you the cute little puppy?" The puppy shrieks brightly, his little tail wagging excitedly, waving his little paws around. "Yes, you are! You're the cute little puppy! Yes, you are!"

The little hound manages to catch one of his fingers and that's when he relents, pulling away from his soft little belly, instead he curls his fingers around his top under his two upper legs, and lifts him up above his head, pressing kisses to the little belly, he may have relented with his playful scratching, but that didn't mean he was through. The puppy barks brightly, laughing in only the way puppy's can laugh, and presses his two little front paws to his face, his tail beating back and forth happily. "Are you my little puppy? Are you? Are you my little baby puppy?" He lowers the puppy slightly, so they could look into each other's eyes, and the puppy barks brightly, licking at his nose with his little warm tongue. He scrunches his face up and laughs softly, brushing his nose against the puppy's cool dark nose, and he laughs again, reaching out to set the puppy down to rest on his desk.

The grey little thing stares at him with bright blue eyes, tilting it's head to the side adorably, and he leans forward against his desk. "What's the matter, little guy?"

The puppy whines softly, batting at him with a small little grey paw, and he catches the little thing, giving it a small gently shake. "What's wrong?" The puppy barks sharply and bats at him again. "Do you want me to be a hound too?" The puppy barks again, as though to confirm his request, and he sighs, smiling fondly at the little hound. "Alright." He scoops the puppy back up, scooting back in his chair, he stands, turning to set him in the large soft dog bed in front of the warm burning fireplace. The puppy stands there, staring up at him, as he takes a step back and shimmers.

A large hound joins the puppy, similar in color, and it bounds forward happily at the sight of it. Bouncing happily, little tail wagging a mile a minute, the little puppy jumps forward. He barks softly, snagging the wild little pup up by the scruff, the puppy squirms and barks, and he growls lowly, calming the puppy's struggles.

Climbing into the dog bed, he curls up, depositing the little puppy between his two front legs, quickly beginning to lick at the messy fur on the top of his head. The puppy resigns himself to his fate, settling down comfortable, settling in for his bath. When his bath is done, and the older hound pulls back, he flips over onto his back, barking up at the bigger hound. It huffs softly, leaning over to press its nose to his belly, and he yaps brightly, kicking his little paws wildly. The older hound nips at his paws when he smacks it in the snout lightly, and the puppy barks brightly.

The puppy falls still, and the older hound watches him, as he yawns a large yawn, and it nudges him over with it's snout. The puppy turns over onto his side, nuzzling against the older hound, and settles down. The older hound huffs softly, licking at the pups side lightly, he lays down himself, over the puppy between his legs, and they both settle in for a comfortable nap in front of the warm fire.

Someone knocks on the door softly and a head pokes in. "Oh, sorry Thaddy, I can see you're busy."

The large hound sits up, turning to look at the intruder, young eyes stare at him, and he barks softly. Gesturing for him to come over, flicking his head to the side, the youth crept into his office and closed the door behind him. Creeping across the floor, he knelt before the massive hound, it leaned forward to lick him on the nose.

"Can I nap with you, Thaddy?"

The large hound licked his nose again, it's tail wagging for a moment, and thrusts it's head to the side.

Smiling to himself, the youngling crawls around the hound, halfway onto the warm dog bed, and rests back against the hound's side. He feels the hound turn slightly, a warm tongue licks over his forehead, and he smiles, reaching up to push the hound's head away. "Thanks, Thaddy."


	223. Passing The Test

"Alright, Qaspiel," he follows the Warden to his office door, where they stop, and he looks up as the tall man turns to look down at him. "This is your first test to see if you're cut out for this guard escort business. Your charge, Zophiel, is in my office. Today's been a rough day, he's been hanging out with me all day, and I went through some discharges. I'm assuming Tus filled you in on the circumstances?"

The young guard nods affirmatively. "He did. Zoph is an undetermined prisoner."

"Correct, as I'm sure you can imagine, watching others go free while he himself cannot, has taken a toll on his mood. As his escort, you need to be able to take care of him while I'm not around to do so, and that includes keeping him in good spirits." Thaddeus crosses his arms lightly. "So, he's rather upset, as I'm sure you can imagine, and I'm leaving it up to you to cheer him up."

"But…" Qaspiel rubs at his arm meekly. "But, what if I can't."

"I have faith in you, from what I've heard, you're rather creative." The older angel rubs his hands together lightly. "Let's see some of those creative juices in action."

Qaspiel nods firmly, rubbing his own hands together, wracking his brain for ideas. None were forthcoming presently, what was something that could bring a smile to someone's face no matter the circumstance. His face brightens up as an idea finally comes to him, the Warden smiles at him as he witnesses it, and nods encouragingly. "Let's see it, then, I like that look that came to those eyes."

The young guard nods, rolling his shoulders slightly, the Warden hums in amusement as the guard shimmers, his form changing, and when the shimmer dies down, in his place stands a fluffy puppy. "Oh, smart pup." He pushes the door open silently, nodding him in, and the puppy trots through the crack in the door. He turns to watch in the doorway as the puppy trots across the floor of the office and hops on the boy sitting on the dog bed, nudging his hands away with his small snout, climbing up to sit in the younglings lap, the puppy begins licking his cheeks, licking away the tears.

He smiles as his boy stares at the puppy in surprise, the pup focused on his mission of clearing the tears away, and Zophiel slowly starts to smile, soft giggles replacing his soft hiccups, as he turns his face from one side to the other, trying to evade the puppy's dutiful tongue. The puppy huffs lightly, jumping up, resting it's two front paws over his shoulders, and continues to lick at his cheeks until all the signs of tear tracks are gone. Zophiel smiles at the puppy, curling his fingers in the fluffy fur on the back of his neck, and the puppy pulls away, staring at him with his bright blue eyes. Zophiel squeaks in surprise when the puppy leans forward and licks his nose playfully.

"Hi, puppy." The puppy barks brightly, licking his nose again, and he giggles brightly, rubbing at the puppy's soft fuzzy fur. "It's nice to meet you."

"You like him, Zoph?" The boy looks up at the sound of his name, seeing his guardian, his Thaddy, standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, and he smiles, nodding up at the Warden. "Well, I'm glad to hear it, that's you escort."

Zophiel looks up at him again, putting his fingers over the puppy's head. "A puppy?"

"He's a guard, in hound form, he's young, so he's still just a puppy."

"And," the youngling looks back at the puppy, giggling again when it licks him on the nose once more, and pets his pointed ears down. "He's _my _guard?"

Thaddeus nods. "Yes, he is," he smiles at the two of them. "I have the feeling that you two will get along just fine."

…

Zophiel spends most of his time in the Warden's office, he's still a bit clingy, but has managed to separate himself from the older angel's side just a bit, staying within the room, but not attached at the hip.

He smiles over his paperwork as he listens to the boys soft giggling, the puppy's soft growling, both of them tugging at a length of rope, shaking his head as the youngling tumbles back, the mischievous puppy (he knew there was a reason they got along so well at first sight) letting go of his end, and he watches as the puppy jumps forward, plopping down over his boy, and starts licking all over his face. Zophiel shrieks, giggling feverishly as he shakes his head, scrunching his face up, the puppy barks between licks, nuzzling his snout over the side of the boys neck.

"Qasp! Qasp!" The boy shrieks when the big puppy licks at the side of his neck. "I give! I give! You win!"

Qaspiel barks in triumph, laying on the boy's chest, he lays down on his front paws. The boy tangles his fingers in the puppy's long fluffy fur. "Want to take a nap?"

The puppy barks softly, licking his cheek, and hops off his chest. The puppy curls up first on the Warden's large dog bed, and the boy follows after him, crawling forward, he curls himself around the puppy.

He smiles to himself as he returns to his paperwork, he knew they were a perfect pairing, that puppy did his boy so much good.

…

The Warden looks up at the soft sigh, looking over to the boy and puppy, sitting in front of the window and looking out.

Zophiel presses his hand to the glass sadly. "I wish we could play in the snow…."

He frowns at the sadness in the boys voice, he tries to make his stay here as pleasant as possible, but he wasn't blind to his pain, watching as the others got to leave at their volition while he was left behind, the only solace he had was the Warden and his guard escort. Qaspiel did him such good, he entertained the boy, kept his mind off the matter at hand.

"Hmmm," both puppy and boy turn to look at him at his humming. "Well, there _is _a little-known atrium out back."

Zophiel's eyes widen and he hops around. "Can we go play out in the atrium?" Qaspiel barks brightly, sitting back on his two back legs, batting his front paws out at him. "Can we! Oh, please, Thaddy! Can we!"

He sets his pen down and leans to rest on his elbows over his desk. "Well, as long as you stay _inside _the atrium and you two bundle up, I don't see why not."

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" The boy bounces forward, the puppy at his side hops down from the chair it had been sitting on before the window and follows after him, as he bounces across the office to hug the Warden tightly. "You're the best, Thaddy! The best!"

"I try." Thaddeus looks down at the puppy. "Qasp, I give you permission to bite anyone who tries to touch him." Not many knew of the atrium out back, and it was gated, for the most part, but you could never be too cautious. The puppy barks firmly, batting at his boot, and Zophiel kisses him on the cheek excitedly as he jumps back. "Come on, Qasp!"

He shakes his head as the two of them run from the office, he hears boots and paws padding up the stairs to the right and the door to his living space slams open. There's silence for a brief period, and then boots and paws are coming back down the stairs, and they're back. Zophiel is all bundles up in a coat, hat, scarf, and mittens. Qaspiel has a small jumper on over his fur and little mittens on his paws.

Thaddeus smiles at them both, nodding in approval. "Good to go." He waves them both away lightly. "Have fun."

They bolt from his office, laughing and barking as they run down the hall, and Zophiel throws the back doors open widely, running out into the cold snow that surrounds them. He throws a handful of snow above his head, and Qaspiel jumps forward, jumping to catch the clumps in his mouth, the young prisoner laughs brightly as he rounds a snowball between his mitten coated hands and he tosses it above his head, laughing brightly as the puppy jumps up on it's hind two legs to catch it.

Zophiel flops backwards into a pile of snow, waving his arms and legs around, an angel making a snow angel, what was funnier then that. Nothing more ironic. The puppy barks happily and hops forward, hoping between his foot prints, and rolls around next to him, an angel hound making a snow angel hound, ha!

They play well until the sun starts to set, and the doors thrown open again, the Warden steps out slightly, holding the door open. "Okay, you little rascals, you've been out here for a while now, come inside and have some hot cocoa and milk." Zophiel and Qaspiel exchange looks, and chase after the Warden, running under his arm as they reenter the Prison, shaking off the snow clinging to their coats, and stomping the snow off their feet. They follow after Thaddeus as he leads them back down to his office, and step under his arm again as he opens the door for them, sitting on his desk is a mug of steaming hot cocoa and next to the large dog bed, pulled up to rest by the fire, is a bowl of warm milk.

The boy makes for the hot cocoa and the puppy for the warm milk, drinking it up greedily, Zophiel raises his mug slightly as his guardian reaches under his arms for the zipper of his coat, pulling it down. He sets his mug down as the Warden pulls his coat off, hanging it on the hook before the fireplace to dry. "Kick off those boots and shuck out of those trousers." Zophiel nods, unbuttoning his trousers and toeing off his boots, the Warden sets his boots next to the fireplace and hangs his trousers next to his coat. "Alright, you two curl up by the fire, I've got a few more things to finish before we can all head to bed."

Zophiel nods, Qaspiel is still lapping up his warm milk, and the boy slowly makes himself comfortable on the large dog bed, curling up on his side. The puppy finishes his drink, licking his nose clean, and climbs under the boy's arm as he joins him on the large plush bed. Thaddeus shakes his head at the two of them, his heart soaring with the knowledge that he had made his boy's day better, and shakes out a blanket to lay over top of two of them.

…

"I told you that you stayed out too long."

Zophiel sniffled miserably, rubbing his nose with his sleeve, cuddling under the blankets as they're pulled up under his chin. "But it was fun!"

"I know it was fun." The Warden presses the back of his hand to one of the boy's flushed cheeks. "But you've gone and given yourself a cold."

They both turn at the sound of the door opening, and smile in greeting to the young guard that enters, Zoph waves excitedly. "Hi, Qasp!"

"Hi, Zoph!" The guard waves back just as excitedly, two peas in a pod, these two. "I heard you went and got yourself sick."

"It's just a small cold!" Though, he pauses to cough into his elbow. "I'll be better in no time!"

"Yea, right!" The guard waves at him. "You're as sick as a dog!"

"You would know!" The boy shoots right back. "You are one!"

Thaddeus shakes his head at the two of them, looking back at the guard for his retort.

Qaspiel points a finger at his charge. "Watch it buster, don't think I won't get you just because you're sick!"

Zophiel giggles softly, coughing into his hand, and cuddles back against the pillow. "Qasp, will you stay with me?"

"Of course, I will, little guy." The guard steps forward, shimmering as he does, and the fluffy puppy jumps up on the bed, crawling up under the boy's arm, licking his nose lightly before laying with him.

"You get some sleep." Thaddeus strokes his hair back. "I'll come up with some soup and crackers for lunch."

Zophiel nods sleepily, nuzzling down into the fluff of the puppy's neck, his eyes fluttering.

The Warden smiles down at the two of them and stands, moving the empty bottle of tonic from the bedside table to the desk, and then he makes his leave, closing the door behind him.


	224. A Boy And His Puppy

Thaddeus looks up at the sound of his door opening, smiling in greeting to the young guard that steps in, nodding towards the bed where the guard's charge still lays sleeping. Nodding, the guard smiles, rolling his shoulders, and jumps forward. His form shimmers mid jump, and he tumbles as he lands on the bed, little ears twitching as he shakes his head, and he bounces up on the sleeping mound under the blankets. The figure under the blankets flails when he starts licking at his face, shrieking with laughter, the figure pushes themselves up, but the puppy is undeterred, standing on it's two hind legs, licking away at their face.

"I'm awake! I'm awake, Qasp!" The boy pushes at the hound. "I'm awake!"

The puppy bounces back, barking at him happily, and Zophiel throws the blankets away, he's still sleeping with Thaddy, but things are getting better. He opens his arms and the puppy jumps forward, tackling the boy back, and begins licking at his face again.

"Qasp! I'm awake! I promise, I'm awake!" He shrieks with laughter when the puppy turns, licking at his neck playfully. "Stop! Stop!"

"I think," Thaddeus finishes tying his left boot and sits back. "He's giving you a morning bath."

"But I took a bath last night!"

"Yes," he stands dusting his hands off on his trousers. "And, now you're having a bath in the morning."

…

"So, is this your new little guard?" The Healer gestures to the puppy, sitting next to the boy, staring at him as intently as a puppy can stare at someone, as he readies the syringe with the vaccine. "He seems very attentive."

Thaddeus chuckles, scratching a finger behind the puppy's ear, the puppy yaps and twists to nip at his finger. "He sure is. They're mighty fond of each other. Two peas in a pod, these two."

The Healer smiles at then, reaching out gently for the boy's arm, Zophiel whines softly at the sight of the needle and Qaspiel barks, bating the Healer's hand away with a paw. He stares at the puppy, reaching back out, his hand batted away again. "Thaddeus, is you guard batting my hand away?"

The Warden snorts, nodding his head. "He does the same thing when I have to bind Zoph's hands." He snags the puppy up by the scruff, the little thing kicks it's legs, squirming in his grip, and he curls the hound up against his side. "My apologies. Go ahead."

"Thaddy, no," the little prisoner leans away from the Healer this time, reaching for the puppy in his arms, and the Warden tilts his head down at him. "Give him back, I promise he'll be good this time, give him back."

"Alright, alright." He points at the puppy tucked in his arm. "You behave." Qaspiel licks at his finger.

He leans over and plops the puppy down in the boy's lap. The pup jumps up, his two front paws resting over the boy's shoulders, and he licks his nose.

The Healer takes that as his opportunity, poking the needle in the boy's arm, he hums when the little one squeaks, but the puppy draws his attention away from it, licking him on the nose again.

…

"Okay," the Warden sits on the edge of the bunk, tucking the blankets up under the boy's chin, brushing his curls back fondly. "I'm right across the hall, if you get scared during the night, I won't be mad, you come on over, alright?"

"Okay, Thaddy." Zophiel ducks under the blankets. "I don't wanna be alone."

Thaddeus smiles at him warmly. "You're not going to be alone." He gestures to the door, and as though on que, a familiar puppy comes trotting into the boys room. "Qaspiel said he'd stay with you the first couple of nights."

The boy smiles at the sight of the puppy, scooting over for it to jump up next to him, curling up along his side, he curls up with it, wrapping his arms around him as he cuddles down with his favorite friend. Thaddeus leans in, pressing a kiss to the boy's head first, and then one to his puppy companion. "You sleep well, boys, I'm right across the hall if you need me."

They both watch him stand, leaving the room, cracking the door behind him.

Zophiel leans into his puppy friend. "You'll stay the whole night, right Qasp?" The puppy barks softly, licking his cheek lightly, and lays it's head down beside him. "Thanks, Qasp, you're the best." The puppy licks his nose softly. "I love you, too."

The boy falls asleep, but the hound stays awake, standing guard while his boy is vulnerable, and thus he's the only one to see the door open again, soft light from across the hall pouring in, and he sits up as a figure enters.

He barks softly in greeting, a slight warning edge to his tone, and tilts his head at the sight of the Warden. Hair hanging down, wearing a long tunic, he crosses over to their bed. "Hey, pup." He pets his head gently. "Just checking in before I head to bed." He smiles at his boy, sound asleep, face pressed into his puppy's furry neck. "You're a good guard, Qasp." He pets the puppy's head again, kissing his snout softly. "I'm happy to have you close to my family, you're a part of it." The puppy barks softly, as to not disturb his boy, and licks the Warden's nose. Thaddeus chuckles, rubbing his face with his hand. "Even if you are a trouble maker."

…

The puppy huffed, sitting the large bucket of warm and soapy water, as the Warden scrubs his fingers through the puppy's thick fur. "Well, maybe you should have thought about the consequences before you two decided to play in that large mud puddle in the atrium." He pours a bucket of clean water over the puppy's head, rinsing the sudsy soap from his thick fur, the puppy turns to look up at him, and he smiles, leaning forward so the little hound could lick at his nose, as he knew the puppy wanted to. "It was me, or Tus, and I made the decision for you." He pours another bucket of clean water over his head. "You would have been in here a lot longer had I let Tus take charge over bathing you."

He finishes up after two more rinses, and lifts the puppy out of the bath, rubbing him dry with a thick towel. Qaspiel barks happily at the attention and he chuckles softly, pulling the towel up over his head. "You like that, Qasp?"

The puppy barks again, and he chuckles once more, curling his fingers around the puppy's midriff to lift him from the desk and set him on the floor. Qaspiel, the little rascal he is, rubs against his leg as to dry himself further. "Shoo, you mangy mutt." He kicks his leg playfully and the puppy bounces away, barking playfully. "I'm not a towel." The puppy bounces back, jumping up against his legs, he tugs playfully at the front of his tunic. "Oh, you want to be _that_ way, do you?" He scoops the puppy up into his arms, it barks again, licking at his cheek.

The Warden falls back to sit in his seat, cradling the puppy in his lap, he scratches at his belly playfully. "Tus told me _all _about this belly's sensitivity issues." The puppy barks brightly, kicking and squirming, but he holds him in place with an arm wrapped around his lower waist. "How do you like that, huh?"

The door slams open. "All clean, Thaddy!"

Their boy runs in, curls still damp and cleared of all traces of mud, he laughs at the sight of his guardian and puppy guard, darting around the Warden's desk, he tugs his chair back. "Let him go, you fiend!" He shrieks, jumping away when the man reaches around for him. "Want me to get you instead?"

"No, no, you can keep Qasp!"

Thaddeus chuckles, having his fun with the mischievous puppy, before he lets him go. Qaspiel whines softly, plopping himself down dramatically, rolling over. "Oh, calm down, you're being over dramatic." He smiles up at his boy, waving him over, Zophiel bounces forward, crossing around to sit on the Warden's thigh.

The older angel kisses him on the cheek fondly. "Feeling better?" Zophiel nods, rubbing his finger over the golden band around the Warden's finger. He kisses him on the cheek again. "Good." He rubs their cheeks together and looks down at the puppy sitting beside them, watching over his boy diligently. "Why don't you two take a small nap, when I'm done, we can all move upstairs, and I'll read to you both." Zophiel nods lightly. "Can we nap with the blanket Puri made us?"

He chuckles. "You sure can."

Zophiel opens the bottom drawer of the Warden's desk, pulling the knitted blanket out, he bounces around the desk, to the side, where the large dog bed is pushed up under the window. "Come on, Qasp."

The puppy follows after him, crawling up beside him when the boy cuddles down, crawling up under the blanket and the boy's arm when he holds it up. They'll both wait as patiently as they have to for the Warden to read to them, they love listening to him read, his voice is calming.

Zophiel smiles to the puppy beside him. "Thanks for cheering my up, Qasp." The puppy barks softly, licking him on the nose, nuzzling against his cheek lightly. "You're my best friend."

The puppy barks again. _'You are my best friend too, Zoph.'_

"Woah!" His eyes widen. "You can talk!"

'_Telepathically. I've been learning more about my hound form. I wasn't sure I could do it at first, but I did!'_

"This is so cool, Qasp!"

The puppy barks softly, licking his nose again. _'You think this is cool, did you know that Thaddy was a hound too?"_


	225. The Sound Of The Warrior

It came out of nowhere, there was no one to blame, the only forewarning they had was a beat up Sablo barging into the Council chamber, amidst the hearing for a petition of Asylum from young Yasmin, words of a flood on his lips. They had been stunned at first, perhaps for a moment longer then they should have been, a straightforward siege was unheard of, as of then, they had kept to their own sides, fighting in the common ground, but this was a whole new declaration of war.

The heads of their opposition thought they would kill the opposing hydra by going after the heads.

Michael stands from his throne swiftly, calling out to his Powers, nodding to the Warden when he turns heel to make it back to his Prison, to ensure the safety of his Prisoners and charges, his hand clutching to young Yasmin's as they make their leave.

"Gather all the fledglings and younglings to the Throne Room, those who are not trained as Warriors, the weak and the injured, bring them all, we will make room. They must be protected against all odds."

Lucifer stands at his side, disappearing to his Grigori, Gabriel to his Principalities, they would search out the fledglings and younglings, escort them back to the safety of the Throne Room. Raphael leaves him to assist in transporting his patients, it would take time, they needed as much time as they could provided to gather everyone up that needed protection against such a threat.

Nisroc and the Powers make their appearance a moment later, looking to their Commander for orders, Michael nods to them in greeting, his gaze sweeping over the walls of the Throne Room. From statue to statue, waiting for an eternity to be called upon, ready for the call to awaken from their slumber. The Watchers ready and able to fight until the death, battle ready and battle hardened, swift and fatal.

"Sir," Nisroc follows his gaze, the others standing patiently behind him, eyes roaming over the peaceful faces of the statues. "Do you think it necessary to involve them?"

"If Sablo's reports are true," Michael settles on one figure, wake them, and they wake the rest. "Then, we will need as much aid as we can gather." He peers over to his Captain out of the corner of his eye, despite the situation, a small smile plays at his features. "Don't tell me you are not itching to see young Chaz again, you two were always quite close, you helped in raising him after all."

"Like a little brother, sir."

"Very good," he nods again, returning his gaze back to the Captain of the Watchers, a stillness entered the Throne Room. "It is those bonds that make up so undefeatable."

As the others begin to fill in, fledglings and their caretakers, younglings and vendors, the blacksmiths, Thaddeus joins them, the Prison sealed under his grace, so long as he lives, no one shall enter or exit, his charges at his sides. The other Archangel's usher them in, guiding them back to the bowels of the grand hall, making as much room for the others as they could, the Throne Room was a large room, but this was going to push it to it's limits. As they room fills, Michael raises his hand, a flame, something similar to Hasmal's, ignites around his fingers, his grace manifesting in his palm, he raises his hand towards the statue he stares at.

Wake the one, and they'll wake the rest, a domino effect.

A beam of power erupts from his hand, igniting the stone casing of the statue he gestures to, and heads turn in awe as they watch the statue ignite into flames. _"Torzu Watchers, g gen umd mirc de blans madriax od a oxiayals."_

They watch, mesmerized, as the flames char the stone statue, and then they turn inwards, billowing into the statue, rising and falling as though by the inhale and exhale of a pair of lungs. Some gasp as the right arm moves, creaking, twisting around, stone fingers curl around the staff in their hands. Michael and the other Archangels watch in fascination as the stone figure begins to move, rigid at first, robotic, it's arm's raise, the staff clutched in front of them, it lifts the staff from the plinth rigidly, and pauses. They others, those who have not witnessed their awakening, and some of those who have, watch in stunned awe as it slides forward, slamming the staff down over the stone plinth, it echoes around the hall, like a bang of thunder. The cold stone eyes flash a silver color, and around them, along the walls, in their own alcoves, the other statues eyes join in.

Another pause, the Throne Room doors are pulled closed by the guards stationed there, and they all watch as the first begins to move again, chunks of stone falling to the floor, as the being stretches out, as though awaking from a long nap. It steps out, over the ledge of the plinth, and falls to the floor below, stone and dust billows up around it, those closest fan it away as they try to make out the figure of the statue.

The sound of rumbling fills in around them, drawing their eyes away from the one they all watch, watching in fascination as the other statues begin to move, stretching out, heads shaking slowly, stone and dust falling away from them, until they are flesh and bone like the rest of them. They all jump from their plinths, dropping to the floor below, disappearing in the gusts of dust they make.

"Hello." Those nearest to them jump around, the Powers jump, snorting when their Captain jumps around, turning to face the one that has joined them. The first, the one that woke the others, fingers of their right hand curled loosely around their staff, stand between them all. He's small, barely coming up to their chests, dust lightens his dark curls, like drops of snowflakes sprinkled over his dark head, his eyes, still glowing silver, have faded just a bit, it's not unbearable to look into now. He stares at the Archangel that woke them. "Why have you awoken us?"

Michael eyes him lightly, checking for any flaws in design, they've been sleeping for decades. "Heaven is under siege."

"You call on us to defend our Home?"

He nods. "I do." He cracks a smile, even in these times, it's best not to lose the light. "Sweet dreams, Chazaqiel?"

"The sweetest." He turns to the Powers Captain. "I dreamed about you Nis."

Nisroc narrows his eyes slightly. "Oh?"

Chazaqiel nods. "I dreamed that I finally beat you in one to one."

The older Captain snorts, reaching out to ruffle his curls, dust spills over the curls as he does, dropping onto the boy's shoulders and sticking to his hand. "A sweet _dream, _indeed."

"I only lose because you cheat."

"No enemy is going to play fair." He shrugs but doesn't deny the fact that, yes, he cheats. "I'm only making it realistic."

"You fight with no honor."

"I do fight with honor, but there is no honor in battle, only strategy."

Chaz quirks a smile. "Then I want a rematch. If you are able to play dirty, then I will too, we will see who wins then."

Michael smiles at the small insight to the relationship the two have, that of brothers, one older and the other younger, it's a sweet relationship. "I'm sure this rematch will be one to witness." He turns to the youth. "I apologize, Chaz, but I place my bet on my Captain."

The Watchers Captain nods lightly. "Someone must." He looks up as the others gather around them, twelve in total, varying sorts of weapons, colors, and styles. "Where will you place us?"

"Six of you will remain here to fortify the inner sanctum." Michael's gaze roams over the heads of the others, waiting for their commands, standing at the ready for battle. "The rest of you will join the Powers in the front. If we show them a united front, unbreakable, they may have second thoughts."

"Cowards." The others spit at the word. "No honor. If you are going to attack, then you follow through, no matter the odds."

"I've always liked your spirit, Chazaqiel." The Archangel nods to his brothers, preparing to open the doors to allow the Powers and the other half of the Watchers free. "I am also always grateful that you are on our side."

They split up, six remaining at the Archangel Commander's placement and six following the Powers lead, Michael decides to make one final judgement call. "And, Chaz," the youth turns to look at him, his other Watchers pausing to wait for him. "Nisroc is in charge."

"At least, it will give him something to do."

…

They all stand around cheering their Captains on, Michael stands with them, though he saves his hollering, he's just as entertained to watch them duel as the others are, Nisroc is indeed a cheater, but to see the Watcher Captain play dirty as well was not an opportunity he was going to miss.

The two of them circled each other, bare chested and barefoot, strictly hand to hand only.

Chaz circles him slowly, arms raised, hands poised in defense. "You're going down this time, Nis."

The Power chuckles lowly, circling him just as slowly, his own arms raised, fingers spread slightly. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Prepare to lay your eyes on it then."

"Talking a big game for such a small fry."

The Watcher straightens, something akin to indignation over takes his features, and he huffs in an undignified manner. "_You're _a small fry."

Nisroc chuckles again. "I am not. I stand at least three and a half heads taller then you." He falls still, bent at the knee, ready for anything the Watcher could throw at him. "While you, you're just a little guy. Scrawny and tiny."

Chazaqiel huffs again, falling back into position, raising his hands once more. They're done circling, now they wait to see who will make the first move, one trying to bait the other into it. "Well, I've been sleeping as a statue for the last couple of decades while you've had time to put on some weight." He smirks slightly. "_Especially _around the midriff."

The Power narrows his eyes slightly at the Watchers innocent grin. "I _assure _you that I'm still as lean and mean as I've always been."

"And, aged. Is that gray hair I see?"

"_Hitting him where it hurts!" _Haniel calls out, laughing hysterically, and the elder Power shoots him a glare.

"Well, we can't all be frozen in time." Nisroc shoots right back. "At least I've had my first shave."

"Liar!" The Watcher points out to his beard. "You haven't shaved in at least a decade. You didn't have that the last time I saw you."

He rubs at his beard lightly. "I think it suits me rather well. It suits my needs."

"You do look good with a beard." Chaz nods lightly. "I'll give you that."

"Thank you."

"_Get him, Chaz! Take the old man down!" _Arakiba calls out over them. _"You can take him!"_

"Yes, baby Chaz, take me down." He teases gently.

Chazaqiel tenses for a moment, and then he darts forward, tackling the Power back. He jumps around his middle, curling his legs around him, as he shoves harshly against his shoulders. Nisroc yelps as he falls back onto his back, the smaller angel straddles him, toes planted on either side, squatting over his belly, as he digs his fingers viciously into the older Captain's ribs. Nisroc shrieks softly, arching his back, and Chazaqiel laughs in triumph.

"Tap out! Tap out, old man!" He jeers playfully, it's all in good fun, nothing to be taken too seriously. "Tap out, old man!"

Nisroc curls his fingers around the boy's waist and swings them forward, and then he's the one on top and the Watcher under him, and he digs his fingers into the boy's sides. Chazaqiel shrieks, arching his back under the mighty Power, kicking his feet out behind him.

"Tap out! Tap out, little guy!" He urges playfully, wiggling his fingers down to his thighs, the boy shrieks again, bright peals of laughter erupting from his as he kicks his legs again. "Tap out, little guy! You tap out!" Chazaqiel shakes his head frantically, trying to push himself out from under the Power, and the elder closes his knees to keep him in place. "I'm not stopping until you tap out!"

"Cheheheheheheheaahhahahahahater!"

"_Strategic."_ He curls his fingers under his thighs and digs in, the youth kicks again, shrieking brightly as he does. "Tap out, Chaz! Tap out!"

The Watcher Captain tries to push himself out with his feet, finds that he can't, and begrudgingly taps out. The Power gives one last squeeze and sits back, resting his arms over his raised knees, chuckling at the giggling Watcher he's left behind. "Still just a _dream_, huh?"

Chaz sits up, rubbing at his thighs lightly, to rub away the remaining tingles. "I'll get you one of these days."

"I'll be waiting."

Hasmal smiles at the two of them, they've always been rather close, and turns to their Archangel. "Are you going to put them back to sleep?"

Michael's smiling too. "No." He shakes his head. "They needs some physical interaction."


	226. All The Kings Men

After his meeting with Thaddeus, he sought out Tus, for his opinion on the matter at hand, Tus had always been their voice of reason, when Puriel was unavailable. He would know what to do with this matter of the heart, this was something bigger then him, this was him disobeying his commands, his turning on his Commander. Only one of the four Captains had turned their back on their Commander, Zaveriel, when he had asked to be taken back into the Healer's fold.

He turns the corner into the guards captain's room, standing in the doorway, he watches the younger Power play on the floor with his fledgling charge, and clears his throat to gain his attention.

"Tus, can I have a word with you?"

The younger Power nods, reaching out to pat the fledgling's cheek lightly. "Mihr, go play with Hasmal for a bit."

Hasmal made a wonderful babysitter.

The fledgling nods, picking his stuffed fish up off the floor beside him, he pushes himself to his feet and darts out of the room, Nisroc watches him go until he turns into Hasmal and Haniel's room, and then he steps into his brothers room, closing the door behind him.

Titus pushes himself up from the floor, his knees popping as he does, and pushes himself up to sit on the edge of his bed, gesturing for the older Power to sit in the desk chair just a pace to his side. Nisroc nods, crossing the room silently, sitting in the chair tenderly, he crosses his arms tightly, this whole ordeal has him in a precarious position, he's on edge, there are so many variables that play into this situation.

"What is on your mind, older brother?" The young Power's voice is like a pillar of light in the foggy deep, and he turns to him, staring into his concerned eyes. "There is a matter that is eating at you. How can I be of help?"

"Tus," he rubs at his temple. "I don't even know where to begin."

"The beginning is usually a good place to start."

He nods, pulling his hand away from his temple, he looks down to his knees. "I'm sure you've heard about the….. _Confrontation_….. That occurred in Michael's office the other day."

Titus nods lightly. "Of course, we all have, everyone heard it. It was not a quiet confrontation."

"About the boy…"

"Zophiel," he nods lightly, when the older Power looks up at him, he knows of the boy. "Qaspiel speaks of him quite often. They're good friends. Very close." He tilts his head. "What about him?"

"What are your opinions on him?"

"Well, I don't know him personally enough to draw a conclusive opinion," he rubs at his chin lightly. "But from what Qasp has shared, they're rather close, as I said, the boy confides in him things he wouldn't normally share with others. I think it's the puppy face that puts him at ease. Anyway, I don't know much about him." Titus tilts his head. "I think he is rather sad. Depressed even. Qaspiel won't go into detail, and I don't want to push, but the boy may be good enough a reason to hold concern. He's remorseful, he says so every day, multiple times."

"Because of him, we lost a number of good men."

Titus nods firmly. "I know we did. I helped train a number of them. I was enraged at first, I wanted him to suffer the same pain they did, but now that I see with a level head, all I see is a boy. A boy who made a grave mistake in a moment of weakness. One that he regrets, and I've seen it, Qaspiel tells me of his remorse every night. Now, I see a boy full of remorse who is wasting away. It's not noticeable, but Qaspiel is very perceptive, one of the most perceptive guards I've had in a long time. The boy is tearing himself a part, his guilt eats at him, his remorse consumes him, I see nothing but a broken boy trying to hold the pieces together with shaking hands."

Nisroc rubs at his chin thoughtfully. "What do you think of his sentence?"

"Sentence?" Titus shakes his head, his tone taking on a more biting edge to it, its clear to see how he feels about that matter. "There is no _sentence_. The sentence is still pending. Michael hasn't given one. And, I hate to admit it, but a part of me feels as though Michael will not give him one."

"You mean to say, that he would allow a youngling to sit in Prison, waiting for a sentence that never comes." The Captain leans forward. "Wasting away."

"I mean exactly that." Titus is undeterred, he's never been one to be ashamed in sharing his opinion, good or bad, and especially when he was passionate about it. "Michael is not infallible. He is not perfect, by any stretch the means, he is just as petty as the rest of us are. The only difference between us and him, is that he has the ability to ruin another's life through his pettiness, then we do. Tell me, I've seen a number of angels in there for experimentation get released, those who are charged with crimes against the Host, are released, does the crime of giving a single document over to the other side surpass those of experimentation?"

Nisroc stares at him but says nothing.

"I think Michael left us a long time ago. He is not the same archangel we knew before the wars. He is bitter, to an extent, and when someone crosses him personally, they face that wrath without remorse. Zophiel is remorseful for what he's done, barely sixteen years, and has already spent two years of his life sitting in a Prison cell waiting for a sentence that I don't believe it ever going to come." Titus crosses his own arms as he leans against the headboard. "So, if your asking if I think Michael would willing just lock someone up and throw away the key, then yes, I do. He's done it before. What's to stop him from doing it again?"

He hums lowly, nodding along, his brother made sense.

"I also think Michael is blind. Someone not even half his age snuck into his office, got into the locked cabinet he keeps the important documents and took one, then got away without him noticing, could be a very dangerous opponent to have. Zophiel is remorseful right now, yes, but there is nothing stopping that remorse from turning into resentment. Personally, though I hardly know of any training he has, we already know how swift he can be, I would not want to have him as my enemy."

"So," Nisroc rubs at his chin lightly. "If it came to defying a command and defending a traitor, which would you do?"

"Zophiel is far from a traitor, he gave information over in a moment of weakness, we don't know the reasoning as to why he did, the conditions that forced him to do so, all we know is that he did it. I don't think he is a traitor, he only did it once, if he was able to get into Michael's office, one of the most secure places in all of Heaven, then I have no doubt he would be able to get himself out of the Prison to do it again, but he doesn't, that is not the makings of a traitor." Titus rubs at his cheek lightly. "He is far from the first to give information over. Sablo is guilty of the same crime, does that make him a traitor? How about those who give away information under duress of torture? We don't know _why _Zophiel did what he did, and until we do, it is wrong to pin him with that title."

"So, you would defend him?"

Titus nods, without hesitation. "I would. I have seen firsthand what becomes of those who are thrown in there and the key thrown away, though Thaddy makes it as hospitable as it can be, it's still a Prison. If Michael came to me and said to place Gadreel, or Abner, under arrest and escort them to the Prison, I would fight him tooth and nail to defend them. I would abandon my position to go with them." The younger Power purses his lips for a moment. "Until you've seen the way someone stares up at the sky, just to make sure that they remember what it looks like, at the end of every day, you won't know the true cost of keeping someone locked away without a determined sentence is." He shakes his head lightly. "I've seen it, Nisroc, and it is not something that should ever be placed upon another soul. So, yes, I would defend the boy. I would do whatever it took to help him."

…

Thaddeus looks up from the paperwork he's working on at the opening of his office door, beside him, Zophiel and Qaspiel pause in their playing at his entrance, both peeking up at him from behind the Warden's desk.

"Nisroc," he curls his hand over the boy's head. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm here to take the boy out for the day."

They all blink at him. "What?"

"I think the boy has been cooped up in here long enough." He gestures to the door. "I think he needs some time outside these walls."

Thaddeus narrows his eyes. "What about Michael?"

"If he comes across us," Nisroc nods lightly. "I'll handle him."

The Warden eyes him carefully, before turning to the boy at his side, ruffling his curls, he tilts his head back to see into his eyes. Zophiel was a sneaky little thing, but his eyes always gave him away, if he wanted the truth, he just had to look into his eyes. "How about it Zoph, do you want to go with him?"

Zophiel looks over at the Power before looking back to his guardian. "Is it a trick?"

That turns his attention back to the Power. "How about it, Nisroc, is this some elaborate trick?"

"No." He shakes his head. "I just want to help."

The Warden looks back to the boy at his side. "You don't have to go if you don't feel safe."

"Can Qasp come?"

He nods, ruffling his curls again. "I wouldn't allow you to go _anywhere _with _him _without Qasp at your side."

"Okay," Zophiel looks back up at the Power, then down to his puppy guard beside him, Qaspiel barks softly, licking him on the nose, and he nods. "I want to go."

Thaddeus nods, ruffling his curls one last time before he moves his hand, and nods towards the Power before them. "Stay at his side. Do whatever it is he tells you to do. Behave."

"I will, Thaddy." He pulls himself up to his feet, and the puppy jumps back, returning to all four paws, and follows him as he crosses out from behind the Warden's desk. Thaddeus watches them closely as the boy bounces cautiously to the Power Captain's side, Nisroc looks down at him, eyes searching for something, but he sighs, clearly not finding what he was searching for, and offers a kind smile. Zophiel returns his smile, slightly, he's never, and none of them can blame him for his nerves. Nisroc was breaking all sorts of rules for him.

Thaddeus clears his throat and they both turn to look at him. "Have him back by supper time."

Nisroc nods, gesturing for the boy to lead him out, and he does, his puppy companion at his side as faithfully as a puppy companion could be. He closes the door behind him, trying not to take note of the giddiness in the boy as they walk silently down the hall towards the outside world, he nods to the guards at the door when they make to stop the prisoner, and they stand back, letting the boy, his puppy, and the Power step out into the open.

He watches him as the boy looks up, squinting into the sunlit sky, eyes roaming over the great blue expanse, as though taking in the daytime sky, not wanting to miss a beat of it, wanting to remember it when it was taken away from him again, and he finds that Titus was right. There is something saddening in that small act. Something that everyone else took for granted was cherished by one who could only stare at stone walls, stone floors, stone ceilings, only imagining what the sky above must look like.

The puppy at his side barks, nudging the boy's hand with it's snout, and gestures to the Power behind them. Zophiel turns to look at him, eyes bright, wide, as he takes in his surroundings, wanting to see it all, so much to see and so little time.

Nisroc raises his head slightly. "Stay with me at all times, alright?" The boy nods, stepping back to stand at his side, and he pretends to not feel the fingers curl around his belt. "Where to first?"

Zophiel looks around again, smiling widely, eyes roaming over everything in their path. "Can we go to the Garden?" He looks up at the tall Power. "I haven't had _real _fresh fruit in a long time."

He nods. "Let's go to the Garden." And takes a step forward, leading the boy to the edge of the stairs, taking them slowly, one at a time, as to not step too fast for the boy to keep up, they make their approach towards the Axis below. Zophiel wears normal clothes, not the Prison jumpsuits, so no one bats an eye at them as they step into the crowd. The puppy comes out from his side to trot in front of them as they meld into the crowd, walking side by side, he spares the boy a glance when he feels him step closer, but doesn't say anything, he _had _told him to stay close after all.

They make a right turn, stepping into a dirt trail, that leads up to the Garden above, on a small incline. Zophiel looks around with wide eyes as he enters the Garden, wanting to take it all in, the atrium had some plants, but nothing was as grand as the Garden was. There was so many different plants, some big and some small, an assortment of different colors, it was all so beautiful.

Nisroc brings them to a stop and looks down at the boy. "Would you like some fruit?" He nods when the boy nods. "What kind of fruit?"

Zophiel thinks on it a moment, eyes all the lush trees. "Pineapple?"

"Pineapple it is." He follows at the Power's side as he steps forward, leading him down a dirt path, that turns to sand, and at the edge of a clearing they find a pineapple plant. He stands at his side as the Power bends over, twisting the fresh pineapple free, and nods forward before he takes a step, and follows after him when he does. Nisroc settles them in the sand of a crystal clear lake, the waves lapping at the shore gently, and he waits patiently as the Power peels the leaves off the stem of the pineapple, peels off the skin with the knife he keeps in his pocket, and he smiles as the Power passes it over to him.

Holding it carefully, he stares down at it, licking his lips longingly, he can't even remember the last time he got to have pineapple. His favorite fruit. It had been so long. He takes his first bite, and his eyes widen, tangy and tart, but sweet, and he hums in delight as he takes another bite.

Nisroc watches him carefully, he doesn't see what he had expected to see, his brother is right. He sees a boy. A boy who is immensely sad. Depressed even. No matter how hard he tries to hide it, he may have even successfully have hidden it from Thaddeus, but he can see it. He watches him eat his pineapple slowly, taking slow bites, chewing slowly, juice dripping down his arms and chin, wanting to savor it for as long as he can, and his heart aches just a bit. This _is _just a boy. Younger then Sora. Younger then Sablo and Abraxas.

"Do you want to stay here for a bit?"

Zophiel nods, taking another bite of his pineapple, and he smiles slightly, the boy is turning into a mess of sweet sticky juice.

Nisroc sighs, looking down to his boots, if they're going to stay here, he's going to make himself comfortable, and he unties his boots so he can pull them off, following with his socks, and he rolls up his pant legs as he reclines back in the sand, waiting until the boy is finished with his pineapple.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees him finish up, wiping his juicy chin and lips clean with the back of his hand, he leans forward to pull his own boots off, and then his socks. His trousers stop just under the knee so that's fine to leave be.

"Can me and Qasp go play in the water?"

He nods his assent and opens his eyes to watch the boy and his puppy kick up sand as they fling themselves forward, jumping into the shallows, splashing water all around. The puppy barks and jumps around, beating his tail against the surface of the water, chasing the boy around in a make shift game of tag.

Closing his eyes once more, he drapes an arm over his face to block out the shining sun, and he sighs deeply as he gets comfortable on the lake shore.

Silence falls over the clearing, the splashing has stopped, and he hasn't known the boy long enough to know whether or not he should be weary, he just assumes they're sitting in the water now, watching the fish swim around them.

Nisroc yelps loudly at the sudden assault, cold water pours over his face, soaking his head and his front, and he flings himself up to wipe the water from his eyes before peering out. The boy stands just a pace away, most likely having jumped back, curling over himself as he laughs at the poor Power's predicament, his puppy stands at his side, bent in a playful way, tail wagging wildly, tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth.

They think they're so funny.

He narrows his eyes as he pushes himself to his feet, and the boy slowly stops laughing, staring up at him with wide eyes as he stands to his full height, making to look as intimidating as he can manage. Zophiel squeaks softly and turns tail to run away, he jets forward, snagging the youngling up around the waist, leaning back to lift him off his feet. "You _little _scamp!" He laughs again, kicking his feet out, curling his legs slightly as the Power carries him back towards the water. "Let me return the favor."

Nisroc walks them out until the water pools just above his knees, and turns, facing the shore once more, tightens his grip around the boy's waist, and leans backwards, falling back into the water. Zophiel shrieks as they fall, the water splashing wide as they both fall under, his fingers curling around the Power's crossed arms around his waist. They stay under for a moment, he can see his friend running out to them from under the clear water, he's changed from his hound form to his humanoid one. Nisroc stands again, regaining his footing, and stands quickly, tossing the boy up above his head, behind him, Zophiel shrieks again as he flies through the air, kicking and winding his arms before he crashes through the water, splashing water all around.

He just manages to brace himself, Zophiel just manages to surface, when Qaspiel plows into the Power's midriff, tackling him backwards, sweeping his feet out from under him, they crash back into the water, Zophiel turns quickly to avoid being splashed in the face. Under the water, Nisroc manages to get his feet under him again, and kicks up, snagging the guard up by the waist, he tosses him back just as he had his little charge moment before. Qaspiel doesn't go as high as Zophiel had, but his splash is just as grand, he turns around when he feels the tug at his tunic, looking down into the shining eyes of the boy he's taken out for the day.

Zophiel smiles up at him widely, tugging at his tunic again. "Again! Throw me again!"

He nods, dropping back into the water to curl his fingers around the boy's waist, and he stands back up, tossing the boy up again. He smiles as the boy shrieks excitedly, flying through the air, and splashes down beside his guard.

Nisroc raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms loosely, when the guard leans over to whisper in the boys ear. Zophiel's expression brightens considerably and he nods feverishly, climbing up on the guards shoulders when he turns around for him, kneeling slightly. He situates himself, the guard curling his hands just under his knees, and they both turn back towards the Power.

He smiles, raising his hands to brace against the boy's when he reaches out to push him backwards, both squabbling for the upper hand. "Oh, you want to play chicken?" He steps forward and Qaspiel takes a step back. "You should know, I _never _lose."

"You will this time!"

"Oh, really?" He pulls his hands away, wiggling his fingers in the boy's belly, and when he folds over with a shriek, he pushes him back, and he goes tumbling backwards over the guards shoulders. "I _never _lose." He bends at the knee slightly, picking the guard up by the waist, he tosses him to the side. He stumbles forward, not having seen the boy swim around him, and he jumps up on his back. "_I _never lose." Nisroc chuckles, curling his hands around the boy's legs, to keep him in place, and takes a deep breath as he allows them to fall forward into the water. He raises himself to his knees, the boy curled around his back, ankles crosses around his waist and arms circled around his neck and raises his hands. "You win, I give, you win."

"Now say I'm the best!"

He snorts, reaching down to dig his thumb into the right foot crossed around his waist, and the boy jumps, shrieking softly. "Don't push it."

Zophiel giggles softly and rests his chin on the Captain's shoulder. "Thanks for playing with me."

"Thanks for soaking me."

"You're welcome," he snarks softly. "You looked hot."

"I was being sarcastic."

The boy giggles again. "So was I."

Nisroc stands then, turning them back towards the shore, when they hit the sand, he turns to see Qaspiel shake his head and shimmer, changing back into his puppy form. He shakes his fur out and trots up to meet them, as Nisroc turns, and plops them back onto the warm beach. The Captain lays back over his passenger, and Zophiel gives an exaggerated groan, pushing at the Captain's shoulders at first, then falling limply over.

"Get off," he giggles. "You're heavy."

"_I'm _heavy?" He squirms around slightly. "_You're _heavy. What is Thaddy feeding you?" He leans back, resting his head on the boy's shoulder. "Bricks?" Little hands cover his eyes and he snorts, shaking his head lightly, knocking them off, and he reaches down, curling the fingers of his right hand around that small left foot, and wiggles his fingers over the sandy wrinkled sole. Zophiel shrieks softly, shaking his foot, tugging on his leg, straightening his other leg, he tugs at the Captain's bun until he lets go to reach for his fingers instead, and immediately stretches his left leg out. "I'm as light as a feather."

"Sure, a feather that weighs a good ton."

They fall silently for a moment, Qaspiel climbs up to plop himself on the Captain's stomach, and he reaches down to scratch behind his ears lightly. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Because, you're a boy." Nisroc pauses in his scratching. "A boy who did something _very _wrong. But, still just a boy. You're remorseful, and that, that is enough for me. It's wrong to keep you in there all the time, you need to interact with the outside world, and that's where I'll come in. No one will dare say anything with me at your side."

Zophiel falls silent, he can feel him stroking his fingers through his hair, but he doesn't push. "I _am _really sorry."

He reaches down, squeezing his thigh gently. "I know you are, Thaddy knows you are, _you_ know you are, and Father knows you are. That's all that matters." He returns to scratching at the hounds ears. "I don't know why you did what you did, Zophiel, and it's not my place to pry. But, Thaddy will always listen, he'll never judge or look down upon you. If you ever feel as though you need to say why you did it, you have those that will listen, and we'll still love you no matter what."

The boy is silent, he knows his listening though, he just does, and the fingers pause rubbing through his hair. "My old guardian…. The one before… All of this…" He nods, listening, but not interrupting. "They were a traitor. A turncoat. They made me do it. They said that no matter what, just because I was affiliated with them, that I would be a traitor too. They said Michael would be lenient, because of my age, so I did it, I did it because I didn't want them to give something over that was _super_ important, and then I waited. I dropped a feather in his office, I knew he'd find me, and I waited for them."

"So," he pauses his scratching again. "You gave over the information you did, to _save _lives?"

Zophiel nods lightly, though he can't see it, he feels it happen. "I don't know what they had chosen to give. But I know it was a lot more important then what I did." He falls quiet for a moment. "Did you know that Michael has a list of all the guardians and miracle workers on Earth, and their locations?"

Nisroc turns at that, slightly, leaning on his elbow, to look the boy in the eyes. "_That's _what they wanted to give over?" That would have been the lives of hundreds of their own. In the grand scheme of things, the boy was a hero, and here he was, being treated like a traitor. "And you s_topped _them?"

The boy nods lightly. "I said I'd give them the information so that they could make a clean get away. They were long gone by the time I handed over what I did. I knew it would be okay because the other list was still safe in Michael's vault, and that they wouldn't dare trying to sneak back in to get it, they were cowards."

"Have you told anyone?"

Zophiel shakes his head. "No one but you."

Nisroc stares at him. "_Why?"_

"No one ever asked."

And that, that right there, was the fault in their system. That was what made him truly realize how true they had been, in their accusations, there was nothing but truth. _No one ever asked. _He'd heard that before. This was truly history repeating itself, this was Gadreel all over again, another soul with the same damnation. _No one ever asked. _He'd asked Tus why Gadreel had never said anything, about what happened that day, and that had been what he'd told him. _No one ever asked. _Thrown away for a crime that wasn't truly his fault.

"Zophiel," he rolls off of him, the boy sits up now that he's removed himself, the puppy jumping to sit at the boy's side instead, stretching out in the warm sand, it flops over onto its side. "You're a _hero_."

The boy looks down to his sandy feet. "No one else thinks so. Michael doesn't think so."

"You saved so many lives, yes, the information you gave did take some, but in the grand scheme, you saved so many more _innocent _lives." He shakes his head distastefully. "You should be praised. Not punished." He leans forward, lifting the boy's head up with a finger under his chin, so they were looking at each other again. "I will do _everything _in my power to get you your freedom, so that you don't have to come out here with an escort to keep you safe, you should be rewarded for what you did."

Zophiel smiles slightly, looking to the side, reaching out to pat the puppy's side. It leans up, curling around slightly, looking up at them, and he gestures to the Captain. "He says I'm a hero." The puppy barks twice and lays back down. '_I told you.'_

He looks back up at the Power. "Call me _'Zoph'. _All my friends do."

"Call me _'Nis, _all _my _friends do."

The boy smiles again. "Can I have another pineapple, Nis?"

He chuckles, pushing himself up to his feet. "Sure." He treks to the water first, to rinse the sand off his hands, Zophiel follows, splashing water over himself to rinse the sand off, reclaiming his spot, as he watches the Power find another pineapple plant and twist the fruit free, peel the leaves and skin off again, and he takes it when it's held out to him, taking a big bite, humming in delight again, juices spilling down his chin.

Nisroc watches him with a small smile. "How is it living with Thaddeus?"

"Thaddy?" He takes another bite. "It's cool. He's really nice. He's like a dad."

"You think of him like a dad?" He smiles again when the boy nods his head. "You should call him that, it'll make his day."

"I don't know…."

"Hmm." The Power leans back in the sand again. "He used to call me _'papa' _when he was little, he still does now, when I really get him going."

Zophiel turns to look at him mischievously. "If you were _his_ dad, and I think of him as _my_ dad, would that make you my _grandpa_?"

He narrows his eyes, but chuckles softly. "With that thought process, I would assume so, but, if you _ever _call me '_grandpa', _I will _destroy_ you." He shakes his head slightly. "I am not _that_ old."

"Can I call you _'papi'_?"

Nisroc stares at his _too innocent _smile through narrowed eyes. "Only if you call Thaddy _'papa'_."

The boy hums thoughtfully and nods, finishing off his pineapple, he washes up in the lake, and lays down next to the Power, so that the both of them can sun dry. "Thanks for bringing me out."

The Captain stretches his arm out for the boy to lay on. "You're most welcome."

It's when they're on their way home that they run into trouble, in the form of an archangel, walking through the sparsely populated Axis. Nisroc catches sight of him immediately and pushes the boy behind him lightly, fingers curl into his belt and he knows the boy is peaking out around him, the puppy at his side, growling as menacingly as a puppy could growl.

"Nisroc, what is the meaning of this?"

Zophiel stiffens, hiding behind the Power just a bit more, peeking out around his arm. He knows that voice, that's the voice that sent him to the Prison but never gave him a sentence, that's the voice that would rather just see him rot for what he had done, that wouldn't even listen to his side of the story.

Michael sees the prisoner immediately, no matter his clothes, he would recognize a traitor.

Nisroc pushes him back around a bit more. "I'm doing my _job_."

"You are allowing a prisoner to roam free?"

"You cannot be a prisoner without a sentence."

"The boy is a traitor," he gestures to the youngling peeking out from around his Captain's arm. "That crime carries life; I thought the sentence went without being said."

Zophiel inhales sharply, the thought of being stuck in there for life a haunting one, Nisroc squeezes at his arm reassuringly. "Then, I will make it my mission to escort him around for the rest of my life

"You would defy my orders?"

The Power nods firmly. "I refuse to allow the same thing that happened to Gadreel, happen to another, if you'd only let him explain himself, you wouldn't be so quick to persecute." He plants himself firmly. "I _refuse _to follow any order that would bring more harm then good, _even_ if it comes from you."

"That's insubordination, Nisroc, I could have you court martialed."

"But you wouldn't dare." The Captain raises his chin slightly. "You know the others would leave you in a heartbeat if you got rid of me, their loyalty lies with me, not you." He shakes his head, inhaling deeply. "I will not allow my _grandson _to waste away inside the same four walls because you are too pigheaded to hear the truth. You are blind. You only see black and white, you miss the gray, you see foes where there are friends. I cannot follow the orders of someone who would be so quick to judgement when they don't even know the reason for the act."

Zophiel stares up at him, his jaw slack, and the puppy follows suit.

"Your _grandson_?"

Nisroc nods firmly, curling his fingers around the boy's arm. "My grandson." He raises himself up. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to get him back by supper time, and we are running a bit late already." He leads the boy forward around the side farther away from the Archangel, and steps around his Commander, feeling his eyes on his back, he's far too stunned about what he had just done to turn back and witness his expression. The puppy barks at the archangel as they pass him by and trots along to keep up with them as they make their way up the Prison steps swiftly. The guards have already changed out for the night, and they both nod to the guards stationed at the bottom of the steps that lead to the Warden's quarters as they pass them, the smell of roast chicken and potatoes fills the air around them and Zophiel licks at his lips hungrily, surprising, considering he ate two full pineapples.

Zophiel throws the door open to the Warden's room and bounces in, bouncing over to hug him tightly, Thaddeus chuckles softly, hugging the youngling back in return "Dinner smells great!"

"I thought it would," the Warden ruffles his fingers through the boy's curls lightly. "Go get washed up and I'll make you a plate."

Zophiel smiles slyly, though none of them can see it, his puppy guard does. "Thanks for letting me go out, papa!"

Nisroc laughs softly at the expression that overcomes the Warden's face, the boy is a sneaky one, and he shakes his head when the boy jumps around to hug him too. "Thanks for taking me out, papi!"

And he darts out with his puppy at his heels.


	227. Big Brother Is In Charge

"Please Saba, please don't take my toys, please!" He pulls on his older brother's sleeve as they make their way across the training field, the end of their shift has come, it was the weekend, he didn't want to spend the entire weekend without his toys. "Please, Saba! I'm really sorry! I'm really _really _sorry! I won't ever do it again!"

If the older guard was getting annoyed by his pestering, he made no notion of it, he simply kept walking ahead, letting their youngest guard tug endlessly at his sleeve.

He'd given their prisoner a concussion, granted Metatron had been having at him all week, it was still a wrong, and with every wrong there was a consequence.

"Please, please Saba! I'm sorry! Please don't take my toys away! I'll be really good! I swear I will! I won't argue when it's time for bed and I'll clean my toys up without being told and everything! Please, Saba!"

"Hush, Sora." He finally puts a stop to it, reaching around to grab his hand, holding it so he couldn't start tugging at his sleeve again. "Be quiet."

Sorath closes his mouth with a soft pop, he can feel tears gathering in his eyes, he'd been really good all week, he got a new toy before papa left yesterday and he hadn't gotten time to play with it last night before bed, so tonight was the night, he had been waiting all day to play with his new toy, and then Metatron had gotten to him, he'd finally managed to get under his skin. Sabaoth had tried to distract him but he had not had any of it, jumping at their prisoner as he exited for bath time, he'd gotten three good swings in before the exscribe went down.

And, now because of that meanie, he was going to get his new toy taken away and he wasn't going to get to play with it _all _weekend.

Sabaoth walks them down the hall, stopping at between their rooms, and he turns to look down at the little guard. "Hey, hey, no tears." He cradles his cheeks as he wipes away the tears that are trailing down his face. "You get changed for bed and come over, we'll talk about what happened then, alright?"

The younger guard nods miserably, sniffling softly, turning into his room to get ready for bed. He stops by his toy shelf, where he puts all his new or favorite toys, touching a finger to his new robot toy, and he sniffles again. Turning towards his wardrobe, he pulls the door open and reaches in for his night shirt, turning towards his bed, he sets the nightshirt to rest over the edge, and he slowly undresses, putting the inevitable off for as long as he can manage.

But all things must come to an end, and soon enough he's all dressed and ready for bed, so he sighs, sniffling softly, and picks up his dolphin as he turns towards the door.

Saba is sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for him when he enters, and he closes the door softly when gestures for him to do so, then crosses to stand in front of him, hugging his dolphin close.

"Sora, look at me." He looks up to meet his big brothers eyes. "What you did is unacceptable." He nods, sniffling again. "There must be a consequence." He lifts his head back up with a finger under his chin. "I'll give you a choice, I can take your toys for the weekend, or, you can go over my knee and have an early bedtime for the weekend."

He sniffles. "I—If I go over your knee, can I still play?"

Sabaoth nods lightly. "Not tonight, for it would be passed your bedtime, but you could tomorrow morning."

Sora nods lightly, pressing his stuffed dolphin under his nose. "I—I'll go over your knee."

His older brother nods, holding a hand out for his stuffed dolphin, he kisses it lightly before passing it over. "Alright, bare yourself." He nods, doing as he's told, and soon enough he finds himself looking down at his brother's foot, yelping and crying out as smacks are peppered down on his bottom. It hurts, but it'll only hurt for a bit, and he'll still get to play with his new toy tomorrow too, so it's worth it.

Besides, he gets cuddles after it's over, and cuddles make everything better.

"There you go," his older brother rights him up and turns him around to face him, wiping his face clean with a small handkerchief. "All forgiven. We'll speak of it no more." He hands him his dolphin back and strokes his cheek lightly. "Do you want puppy cuddles or regular cuddles?"

"Can we do regular cuddles tonight and puppy cuddles tomorrow?"

His older brother smiles at him, patting his cheek lightly with a finger, and he nods lightly. "Yes, we most certainly can." He stands from the edge of the bed. "You climb on in; I still have to brush my teeth."

Sorath nods, stepping forward, crawling into his older brothers bed, he situates himself on the other side, cuddling down under the blankets, he watches over his dolphins head as Saba brushes his teeth and rinses his mouth. He cuddles down when his big brother climbs in next to him, curling on his side, he opens his arms, and that's his invitation to cuddle close. He settles between those two arms, sighing contentedly as they curl around him and pull him close, his bottom stings a bit, but these cuddles make it all better.

"I'm sorry, Saba." He mumbles into the older guard's chest. "I didn't mean to."

"I know you didn't pup. Everyone has accidents. It's alright."

…

Sabaoth arrives with a puppy in his hand.

Osmadiel takes one look at the small puppy and looks up to his older brother. "Rough night?"

He nods. "Had a nightmare and turned into a puppy." He sits on his stool and rests the puppy in his lap. "He's still not ready to change back just yet."

Rahab coos at the puppy. "Aw, poor Sora." She leans forward to scratch a finger behind his ear. "It'll be okay, Sora." Sorath whines softly and ducks back, crawling under the opening of Sabaoth's jacket. "I've got an idea!" She stands from her seat. "He needs to be close to his big brother." She pulls Sora out from the flap of Saba's jacket and zips it up, then she tucks the puppy up under the top into the little pouch she created over his chest, the puppy's head pokes out of the jacket, rubbing under Saba's chin, and Rahab smiles at her work and sits back down. "There we go."

Sabaoth chuckles softly, rubbing a few fingers over the puppy's head, before the puppy ducks back into his jacket.

"Now, that's adorable." Os leans back against the wall. "I wish I had a camera."

A flash interrupts them and they all turn to look at the source, Thaddeus smiles at them and lowers a camera, Os snorts into his hand. "I have a few kids; I like to capture the moments." He holds up the photo after it prints out of the top. "This is a keeper. Wait until I show Tus. He'll frame it."

He reaches out and rubs a finger over the top of the little fluffy head that pokes out. "If you two want to nap on the bed in my office, you're more than welcome to."

Sabaoth nods, patting the mound under his jacket lightly. "We may take you up on that."

A little fluffy head peaks out from under the collar of his jacket and a small pink tongue licks at his chin.

He chuckles. "After lunch, Sora, we'll take a nap. You didn't get much sleep last night."

Thaddeus smiles, standing back up. "Just let me know and I'll have someone swap places with you."

The Warden doesn't bat an eye when two hounds come trotting in his office, one carrying the other, and curls up in the large dog bed under the window. The large hound sets the puppy down between its two front legs, it's puppy barks softly, yawning a big yawn, and lays down cuddled against the older hound.


	228. The Lost Puppy

He'd been watching the puppy for a little over two days, he was there when the little thing was dropped off, tied to that post, and left there to wait for a family to return that was never coming back. He watched as the puppy's tail slowly stopped wagging, as the puppy's happiness slowly faded, and it whined softly as it laid down to wait some more.

He whined himself, cursing the one who had dropped this puppy off, with no intention of returning for it, and he finally stands up. Trotting across the street, he nudges the puppy with his nose, laying down next to it.

'_What are you waiting for, puppy?'_

Little sad brown eyes turn to look at him. _'Waiting for my family. They'll come back. I know they will.'_

'_Puppy, I don't think they're coming back.'_

The puppy whines, and he leans forward, licking his head comfortingly. _'Was I bad?'_

'_No, you are a very good puppy, you just love bad people.'_

'_Where will I go?' _He looks down at the puppy. _'If I can't go home.'_

'_You'll come stay with me in my home. Where your bowl will never go empty, toys are endless, you're always allowed on the bed, and someone is always there to give you belly rubs.'_

He feels a sense of accomplishment when the puppy's tail begins to wag again. _'Really?'_

'_Really. I'll go get my master, he'll set you free, and you can come home with us.'_

'_Promise to come back?' _The little puppy is mistrustful, after being abandoned by it's family, he doesn't blame him. He barks softly, licking its head again, and stands, trotting back into the crowd. He searches out the hands of his master, sniffing and searching, he finds him in front of a fruit vender, and he snags his pant leg, tugging firmly. The man looks down at him, eyebrows scrunched together, this was unlike the hound to be so demanding. He thanks the man in the stall and follows after his hound as he leads him through the crowd, he frowns lightly at the puppy he's led to, and he kneels beside the puppy, lifting the rope tied to the poor things collar with his right hand.

"Era, did you make a new friend?"

His hound nudges his hand. _'His family abandoned him, Nis, the puppy can be part of our family now.'_

The Power nods. "Alright, we can take him home." He reaches for the knot tied around the loop in it's collar, untying it gently, he scoops the puppy up with his free hand. "Gosh, little guy, you barely weigh a thing. We'll have to get a good meal into you."

The puppy looks up at him, unsure. _'New family?'_

"New family, pup, new family indeed." He turns to the hound at his side. "Let's get home, Era."

…

The puppy is unsure at first, everything is so different, but the nice older dog is there, and the man is so gentle, he looks around at everything there is to see.

The man kneels, setting him on his paws, and rubs at his head lightly. "How about something to eat?" He barks excitedly, hoping from paw to paw, and the man chuckles. "I thought so, let's see what we have here, we'll get your belly nice and full."

The man stands, and he watches him grab a bowl, and lift the lid off of a great pan. The older dog trots over to his side, sitting over him, he licks at his head. The puppy preens, sitting up into the fond affection, standing up on his two hind legs, so much so that he tumbles backwards into the older hound. He squirms around on his back, and the older dog barks softly, leaning down to lick his belly.

'_What's your friend's name?'_

'_His name is Nisroc, but I call him Nis, you can call him that too.'_

The man, Nisroc, kneels before him again, setting a bowl down for him. "Some chicken and gravy, a nice meal for a growing puppy, dig in little guy."

'_All for me?'_

"All for you, little one."

He looks up at the man. _'You can understand me?'_

Nisroc nods lightly. "I can. You eat up. If you want more just ask."

The little puppy sniffs at the bowl, little tail starting to wag, and he licks it experimentally. Barking happily, he takes a bite, the gravy and chicken is delicious, it's still warm and it fills him belly more then he can remember it being filled for a very long time. He licks the bowl clean, licking at his jaw as he looks back up to the kind man, he smiles and kneels, setting another bowl down beside him. "How about some water to wash it all down?" His little tail wags again as he leans over to lap the water up. This new family is nice, they gave him yummy food and cool water, the big dog is friendly, and the man is nice.

He looks back up to them man and Nisroc smiles down at him, leaning over to pick him back up, the puppy barks softly at the hand that curls under his belly, and he's pressed to the man's strong chest. "Let me show you to our room."

The puppy looks around as he's carried down a great hall, pictures cover the bare spaces, faces he doesn't recognize, he sees the nice man carrying him in some of them, the big dog too. They turn into a room, it's big, there is a big bed and a wardrobe, a desk, and in the corner a large fluffy dog bed. Toys are littered in the corner, pull toys and stuffed toys and balls. He barks at the sight of them, and Nisroc looks over, smiling at the sight of the toys. He leans over and sets the puppy down, sitting on the edge of his bed as the little thing bounces over to the corner, kicking a ball with it's front right paw, shaking a rope toy gently, sniffing at a stuffed toy, his little tail wagging rapidly. "You like toys, pup?"

He barks again, batting another ball with his paw, and the Power chuckles. "How about a welcome home gift?" He stands from his bed, walking over to the wardrobe, and pulls the door open. He reaches inside for something, and the puppy waits anxiously, he likes gifts. The man pulls his hand out, fingers curled around something, and closes the door. The puppy bounces after him excitedly, wanting to see what was in his hand, what his gift was.

Nisroc leans over and holds out a stuffed toy. "Here you go, little guy, welcome home."

'_A stuffed bear!' _He takes the bear with a happy bark, shaking it around, he chews on it's ear. _'For me!'_

"Just for you, puppy."

The older hound jumps up on the bed, watching his new friend play with his bear happily, and lays down beside his master.

The puppy looks up at them, it's new toy still hanging in his mouth. _'Thank you! You're so nice! Just like my old family…' _The puppy drops his toy, his wagging tail dropping with it. _'Are you going to leave me too?'_

"Never, little one." Nisroc leans over to pick him and his stuffed bear up. "You'll have a home here forever more."

The puppy's tail begins to wag again. _'Promise?'_

"I swear." He scratches a finger behind the puppy's ear. "Now, do you want to sleep on the big bed, or the doggy bed in the corner?"

'_I can sleep on the bed?'_

Era barks and Nisroc nods. "You sure can, if you want to, you can sleep in either bed."

'_Can I…Can I sleep where Era is going to sleep?'_

"Of course," he looks over to the hound next to him. "Where are you sleeping tonight, Era?"

The big dog barks, pawing at the bed, and Nisroc nods. "Looks like you're both sleeping on the big bed then, little guy."

Era rolls over onto his side comfortably, and the Power lifts the puppy up, kissing him on the nose. "Welcome home, little one." And sets him down on the bed. The puppy drags his stuffed bear over by the ear and curls up against the big dog, his bear under his head. Nisroc pets them both, scratching lightly at their ears. "Sweet dreams, you two."

If he wakes up the next morning to find one hound stretched out between his legs and the little puppy curled up over his chest with his new stuffed bear, he just closes his eyes and goes back to sleep, no need to wake them so early.


	229. Had It Up To Here

"I've had it up to here with his behavior." The Warden fumes as he paces his office, hands planted firmly on his hips, he mumbles between sentences, shaking his head in distaste. "He won't listen to a word I say. He won't do his chores. He mouths off. He has the _audacity _to talk back to me." The guard watches him cautiously, an upset Thaddeus was never one someone wanted to cross, it just wasn't right, an upset Thaddeus could go either way. "I'm at my wits end with him! He makes me so angry; I just want to—" He mimes choking someone with his fingers, and takes a deep inhale, halting his stride midstep, he nods his head as he clears his mind. "Shamsiel, go fetch Nisroc."

The guards eyes widen, but he nods, not wanting to direct that volatile temper on himself, and turns to leave the Warden's office.

He returns fifteen minutes later with the Powers Captain at his heel, the older angel takes one look at the flustered Warden and gently waves him out, nodding, glad to have an excuse to leave this tense presence, he backtracks, closing the door behind him, and he makes his way back down the hall quickly.

The Power hums softly, stepping forward towards the Warden. "Oh, my little Tadpole, what's got you so flustered?"

The Warden turns as he approaches, stepping into the arms that are held open for him, feeling hands clasp together behind him, he presses his ear to the Captain's chest, his hands travelling up to curl into the front of his tunic, they sway from side to side, the Captain's chin resting on his head.

"He makes me so _mad, _papa." He takes another deep breath. "I've tried being nice, I've tried being firmer, he just won't listen to me. He back talks and refuses to do his chores and calls me horrid names and I'm getting fed up with it, papa."

Those arms tighten around him slightly. "Do you want papa to set him straight?"

He nods lightly. "Yes, please."

"Alright, little Tadpole, papa will take care of it." He unclasps his hands, rubbing the younger angel's back gently, he presses a kiss to the top of his head. "You take a seat, and papa will go deal with this wayward troublesome youngster."

He walks the Warden back around his desk, and leans over slightly, reaching out to turn his chair around, and guides him down to sit in his chair, letting his hands glide up to cradle his cheeks. "Papa will take care of it, you do something else, find something to get him off your mind." Thaddeus nods against his hands, and he smiles down at him, leaning over to press his lips to his forehead. "I'm going to borrow your belt, alright?"

"Okay, papa." The younger angel nods. "Don't be too hard on him, papa."

"Oh, don't you worry," he steps out from behind the desk and reaches into the small closet for the belt hanging on the door. "I'll take _good _care of him."

Thaddeus watches him leave, closing the door behind him, and sighs, looking down at his clean desktop, he has nothing to do. He looks over to the book shelf to his side, perhaps he could start a new book, and he nods to himself, that's what he'll do, reading always clears his mind.

…

Nisroc makes his way down the hall steadily, guards look up as he passes, and step out of his way, it's clear he's here for a reason, and they take quick note of the belt he holds folded over in his right hand. They are sure to make room for him as he journeys forward. The guard posted between the two cells steps aside as the Captain reaches for the keys he keeps on his belt, selecting the one he's searching for, he slides it into the cell gate and turns it over to the side, the tumbler clicks open, and the door swings open.

The prisoner within backs away from the Power as he enters, gone is the bravado, gone is the back talking, in it's place is a cautious animal backed into a corner. "W—What are you doing here?"

"Oh, where is this boy I've heard _all_ about?" He leaves the cell open; he doesn't plan on being here very long, it never takes him long to get the results he comes to expect. "The one who backtalks and throws around foul names?" He stands to his full height, the key to these things is the intimidation, one must break those fortifying walls before they can get the respect they expect to receive, and he towers over the small boy. Youthful eyes widen as they look up at him, almost blocking the exit with his entire body, he's so big, and the belt folded over hanging from his right hand only adds to the effect he wants to give. "Go ahead, backtalk to me, call _me _foul names."

"He…He sent for _you_?"

"He did," Nisroc nods lightly. "He sends for me to deal with all the particularly _troublesome _prisoners. They are few and far between." He turns, sitting on the bed lightly, leaning on his right knee. "What?" He tilts his head slightly. "Nothing to say? No jabs? No insults? No rebellion?"

The boy shakes his head. "I have no beef with you."

The Power points a finger at him. "Ah, that would be where you're wrong, any beef you have with Thaddeus, is a beef you have with me." He lowers his arm again. "After all, Thaddeus may be Warden, but he reports back to someone." He taps a finger to his chest. "And, that someone would be me." He nods when nothing more is said. "If there's nothing more you need to say, let me say a few things, let me tell you how this is going to play out from here. You will stop calling _my _Warden foul names, you will stop this rebellion you are putting up, you will stop with the backtalking. You will _start _doing your chores, you will start behaving yourself, and you will start showing my staff the respect they deserve."

"Oh, yea?" The boy pipes up defiantly. "And what's gonna happen if I don't?"

"I'm glad you asked," he leans over, snagging the younger angel by the wrist, and tugs him closer. "Let me show you."

The others in the cell block come to stand at the doors of their cells, trying to peer out and see what the commotions about when the wailing starts, wails and sobs fill the corridor, and some flinch at the distinct sound of leather harshly meeting flesh, those who had seen the Captain walk down the hall towards that particular cell make sounds of sympathy, there's only one reason the Captain of the Powers would be entering a cell and it's never a good reason.

The wails and sobs continue on for a couple of minutes, the wails are in time with the thrash of the leather belt against a bare rear end, and the sobs fill in the spaces in between.

And then it stops.

There's a shuffling as they're stood back on their feet and their trousers are pulled up again. They all scurry back as the Power guides the offender from their cell, fingers curled firmly around the back of their neck, guiding them forward towards the Warden's office at the end of the hall. The prisoner is curled into themselves, one hand rubbing at their bottom and the other rubbing at their eyes, the Captain guiding him has the belt hanging over his shoulder, and leans forward to open the door before them, and then they disappear from view again.

…

Thaddeus looks up from his book at their entrance, taking in the state of his prisoner and the look in the Captain's eyes, Nisroc guides the chastised prisoner forward.

"Well, anything you'd like to say?" The prisoner shakes his head lightly. "Do we need to go again, because we can." He shakes his head frantically, looking up to his keeper with red puffy eyes and tears, and Thaddeus tilts his head.

"I—I'm sorry!"

Nisroc squeezes the back of his neck firmly. "For what?"

"F—For being d—disrespectful!"

Thaddeus hums lowly, folding his hands before him over his desk, and leans forward on his elbows. "Did you enjoy this experience, Zazriel?"

He shakes his head feverishly. "N—No."

"Do you know what's going to happen the next time you give me this much trouble?"

Zazriel nods quickly and the Warden hums. "Good. There's no supper tonight. You can go back to your cell, the guard will lock you in, I will be over to check in on you in an hour, and you had better be asleep."

The younger angel nods, turning out from under the Power's hand, reaching out to open the door, still rubbing at his bottom with his free hand, trying to rub the sting away as best as he can. It doesn't work. But it's worth the try.

Nisroc crosses the office to put the belt back, and comes to stand at his side, turning him around in his chair, Thaddeus looks up at him with appreciative eyes. "Thanks, papa."

"Anytime, Tadpole."


	230. The Missing Blue

He was just finishing up for the day when the door to his office flew open, a guard stumbled in with a flourish of a rush, and topples forward, bracing himself against his knees as he inhales breath after breath. He watches the guard with a raised eyebrow and drops the last file into his desk drawer, sliding it closed gently, he turns back to rest his hands on his desk. "What's going on Marmaroth?"

"Sir…..Sir…."

"Catch your breath, first."

The guard nods in appreciation and takes a moment, catching his breath, he'd sprinted all the way here. "Sir, Zazriel is having a meltdown."

He quirks an eyebrow. "A meltdown?" And tilts his head. "About what?"

Marmaroth rubs his forehead with the back of his hand. "He just keeps screaming that he can't find _'Blue'_, sir, he's a mess."

"I see, where did Zazriel spend the day today?"

The guard stands back up. "In the atrium."

"Thank you, Mar," he pushes his seat back and stands, stepping out from behind his desk, he pats the guard on the arm as he walks passed him. "You're dismissed, Mar, go get some sleep." He continues on his way towards the back of the Prison, to the two double doors, not locked yet, he'll lock them when he comes back in. Pushing the right door open, he steps out, and his eye catches it immediately, the missing _'Blue' _sitting under the tree in the right corner of the atrium. Whistling to himself, he steps forward, stepping around balls and such, toys for the minors to play with during outdoor time, and reaches out to pick _'Blue' _up. Dusting it off, he tucks it under his arm, and turns back for the doors. He locks them up once he's in, pushing on them to make sure they don't budge, he checks the door for the Solitary block, making sure that door doesn't budge, and nods to the two guards posted beside it, he continues on his way down the hall.

Around the left corner, the last cell on the right side of the minors block is his destination, and true to his word, the occupant within is having a true meltdown. Screams and sobs echo down the hall, the whispers and mutterings of guards trying to calm them down fills the spaces between, and he whistles to himself as he comes to stand just a pace before the open cell and clears his throat.

The two guards look up, appreciations shining in their eyes as they do, as he waves them back, away from the wailing prisoner.

His whistling falls silent as he steps into the cell, squatting before the distraught boy, and holds up his stuffed companion. "Hey, hey Zaz, it's alright, look who I found."

The wailing prisoner opens his eyes, his sobs falling short, coming to a sudden silence at the sight of the beloved stuffed bear named _'Blue'_. "B—B—Blue?"

"I found him, it's okay, you just left him outside." He holds the bear out to him. "Here, take Blue, give him a big hug, he missed you just as much as you missed him."

The boy takes his beloved stuffed bear, hugging it close to his chest, pressing his nose against the soft plush head. He hiccups softly as he pulls his bear away, looking down at it, he touches a finger to the bow around it's neck, and hugs it again, curling it in his arms as tightly as he can manage. Zazriel looks up at him with red puffy eyes. "T—Thanks, Thaddy."

"It's not a problem." The Warden ruffles his honey brown curls lightly. "Next time, let's leave Blue inside, and take another one of your friends out to play, okay?"

The younger angel nods lightly, still hugging his bear to his chest, and presses a kiss to the soft fur.

Thaddeus smiles at him gently. "Okay, let's get in bed, you and Blue had a busy day, you two must be very sleepy." Zazriel complies as he helps him to his feet, guiding him over to his bed along the wall, the older angel pulls the blankets back and guides him down into bed, resting on his side, down against the pillow, bear still curled in his arms, he tucks the youth in softly. "There we go. See, everything's okay, we've got Blue back and we're in bed for some sleeps." He tucks the blanket up under his chin, rubbing a knuckle over his cheek lightly, he turns, lighting the new candle on the small table with his finger. "Alright, we're all snuggled in, we have Blue, we have our light lit, are we missing anything?"

Zazriel shakes his head, yawning lightly as he presses his nose against the fluff of the bear's head, looking up at the Warden with half lidded eyes. "No, all good now."

"All better?"

He nods slightly. "All better, Thaddy."

"Good," he strokes his cheek again and stands up, making to leave the cell. "The guards will being making their rounds, you two get some sleep, if you need me, just ask one of the guards to come get me, okay, Zaz?"

The young prisoner nods again, rubbing his nose over the bear's fur, and closes his eyes softly. "Okay, Thaddy."


	231. A Scolded Puppy

"Zoph, go stay with Saba."

Zophiel knows that tone, he knows that's the _'Thaddys angry' _tone, and he knows not to argue with that tone, so he merely pats his puppy guard on the head and scurries out of the Warden's office, leaving his bestest friend behind to face his fate on his own. Qaspiel can't blame him. If he was told to leave with that tone, he'd run too, run fast, and run far.

"What's this I hear about you biting one of my prisoners?"

The guard stays in puppy form, whining softly, he lowers himself to the floor, covering his eyes with his paws. Thaddeus resists the urge to smile at the sight, reminding himself that he has to be firm, as it's adorable and he just wants to cuddle the cute little puppy until he feels better. But he did wrong, and he has to be scolded for it, so he must solder on.

"No, no, you look at me when I'm talking to you." The puppy peeks out from under his paws, whining again, giving him those big round eyes, trying to soften his heart, and damn it, it's most certainly working. "I want you to explain to me why you attacked one of my prisoners, mister."

'_They…..They made baby brother cry.'_

That throws him for a moment, call him a papa bear if you want, but he's protective of his kids. Even the ones who don't know they're his yet, like Zazriel, he was a little shit, sometimes, he reminded him of Sora in some of his mannerisms, he was starting to draw a few conclusions about that little guy. "They made Zoph cry?"

The puppy barks softly. _'They said he was going to die in here before seeing his freedom.'_

"I see," well, that certainly turns this around. "That's a matter I'll have to look into, that does not, however, give you clearance to _bite _someone. If that happens, you bring the matter to me, and I deal with it myself."

'_I got them to say sorry though.'_

"That's not the point, Qasp, and you know it, don't try that on me."

The puppy whines and covers his eyes with his paws again. _'Sorry, big brother, I was bad.'_

Okay, his heart isn't made of stone, and that, that right there, broke it. He pushes his chair back, standing from his seat, he shimmers as he steps out from behind his desk. The young puppy looks up at the large hound that trots out towards him and barks softly, kicking lightly when the Warden Hound snags him up by the scruff and carries him over to the dog bed under the window.

Plopping him down between his two front legs, the older Hound licks at his head lightly, down around his ears, and up under his chin, as he rolls over to lay on his side under the affections and attention. _'You are not bad, baby brother, you did something wrong, but you were just protecting our boy.'_

His puppy companion barks softly, turning over onto its back, looking up at the older hound with bright blue eyes. _'Not mad?'_

The older hound huffs, barking softly in turn, and leans down to lick his little chest. _'No, I'm not mad.' _He nudges the puppy's belly with his nose. _'Let me see this fluffy belly.' _And swipes a massive lick over the puppy's soft belly.

Qaspiel shrieks, barking brightly, wiggling underneath him. _'Aahahahhahahahha! Thaddy! Big brother! Nohohhoo!'_

His older brother huffs softly, licking playfully at his belly, uninhibited by his attempts at escape. _'What, I'm only giving you a bath.'_

'_You are torturing me! Aahahahahhahahaha! Not the belly! Aahahahahhhaha!'_

'_No, this is torturing you.' _Thaddeus nips at his belly, nibbling softly at the spots he knows to be particularly sensitive, and the puppy shrieks again, barking brightly. _'This is torture.'_

'_Aahahahahahhaha! No more! Ahahahahhahahaa! Tickles! Ahaahahahhahahaha!' _The puppy bats at his snout lightly. _'Big brother! Ahahahahhaha! Please!'_

The older hound barks softly, rubbing his snout over the puppy's neck affectionately. _'Alright, because you asked so nicely.'_

The puppy licks his snout softly and turns back over, laying comfortably between his two paws, and the older hound returns to licking at the back of his neck. Someone knocks on the door, they both know who it is, the boy would have only stayed with Sabaoth for so long, before he sought to return to his puppy friend's side. "Papa?" The door opens slightly and a head of curls pokes in. "Qasp?" Eyes swivel around the room until they land on the two hounds laying together on the large dog bed. "Papa!"

The boy darts away from the door, letting it close behind him, and slides on his knees in front of the older hound. "You're in hound form, papa!"

The large hound barks gently, licking the boy on the nose playfully, Zophiel giggles and kisses the hound on the nose in turn. _'Hello, pup, how long have you been waiting out there?'_

"Only a couple minutes, papa, I promise." He giggles again when the hound licks his nose once more. _'Good boy.'_

The large hound barks at him, rubbing his cheek with his snout, nudging him over slightly. _'Get the blanket, we will all take a nap, it has been a tiring day for us all, and it is drawing to a close. We will all nap until the night guards arrive.' _He turns to the puppy laying below him as the boy scurries to the desk to get the blanket out of the second drawer from the bottom. _'Are you staying tonight, Qasp?'_

The puppy barks, licking under his chin. _'Yes.'_

Zophiel returns a moment later, shaking the blanket out, he lays it down over the dog bed, and crawls under, sidling up against the massive hound in the middle. It sighs, leaning over to lick him on the forehead, and the puppy leans out to lick him on the cheek before both lay down comfortably. Zoph smiles, pressing his face into the large hounds furry side. "I love you guys."

They both bark in return.

'_I love you too, baby monkey.'_

'_I love you too, baby brother.'_


	232. Coming To Conclusions

"You know, he kind of reminds me of Sora, in a certain way." Fingers stroke through his hair gently, he likes it when someone strokes their fingers through his hair, it's comforting and relaxing, it makes the tension he holds fade away, almost as much as he likes it when someone scratches his back or the back of his neck, or massages his shoulders lightly, he likes to be relaxed, it makes him more pleasant, more fun to be around. "They have the same mannerisms in certain ways. I think he's just vying for attention. He doesn't seem like the bad sort."

"He reminds you of Sora?" He turns to look up at the older angel, fingers accommodating the repositioning, stroking through the hair on the back of his head. "But…He's so sweet….and _he's _so _trying_! Sometimes I just want to _throttle _him!"

"I can imagine." He presses a kiss to his forehead. "But he wasn't always that way." The elder leans further back into the pillows to gain a more comfortable position himself. "He was a Power Elect, you know, before he was a guard."

"No way."

He nods, Nisroc looks down at him again, scratching a finger behind his ear. No matter what form their in, any angel hound likes having their ears scratched, hound form or humanoid form, doesn't matter, they like it in both forms. "Yep, he didn't make the cut, obviously."

Thaddeus tilts his head slightly, and the Captain presses another kiss to his forehead. "Why?"

"His attitude. He carried himself on a trigger, the smallest thing would set him off, Sasha once spilled juice on him and he blew up. Attacked Hasmal and tried to attack the little ones." He shakes his head. "I don't even want to think about what would have happened if we hadn't come home when we had. I tried whipping him into shape my way and it didn't work. But Tus saw something." He scratches at his beard lightly. "Tus has always been really observant, seeing the things that others don't, he saw something in Sora. He walloped him good, when they first got together, after I said he could have him for his guards, they went to the Garden and didn't return for a good forty-five minutes, it got his attention though. Tus took it a bit too far, farther then I would have ever gone, but there was no taking it back after the deed was done."

The young Warden cringes, he can only imagine how that felt, he remembers getting on Titus's bad side as a fledgling. He was a kind angel, quiet, caring, but when you angered him. He could wallop you just as bad as Nisroc could. He'd never taken things too far with him, thankfully, he could only imagine how Sora felt after that experience, and it makes him cringe again. Tus never went too far but his throws were never softened.

"He sat down with him after that and they talked, now that he had the little guys attention and he knew what would happen if he backtalked him, at the moment anyway. Tus noticed his gaze travelling to the toy robot he had on a shelf behind him. Turns out, Sora didn't have that great of a fledglinghood, he grew up with a stern warrior who thought such things were frivolous and weakening to the fighter's spirit. He never got hugs or tickles, he was a bit touch starved there for a while, always looking for a way to get you to touch him; pat his cheek or ruffle his hair or tug him in close to your side."

"And, Tus noticed this right away?"

"He did." The Captain nods lightly. "He noticed right off the bat. Sora had never had any toys growing up, so he gets them now, he's like a fledgling still sometimes, he can be tough and strong when he needs to be, but when he doesn't, it's like he's back to being that poor neglected fledgling. Tus gave him the robot, and you should have seen it, from what I've heard, he was completely mystified by it, his very first toy. It's his favorite toy in his whole collection." He looks back down to the Warden. "Tus and him, made an arrangement, for every week he behaves himself, no accidents, he gets a new toy. If he has an accident or misbehaves, he gets his toys taken away for a day, only a day, that's all that's needed for him to learn his lesson. Tus is a softy when it comes to him though, he lets him keep one toy, but there's no playtime before bed, he gets to keep his dolphin too, he won't sleep without it, and Tus isn't cruel."

"If he gets a new toy at the end of every _week _wouldn't his room be overflowing?"

"No, once a month Tus and he sit down and go through his toys, the ones he's not playing with very much he gives to the fledglings. They fill a good-sized box at the end of every month."

Thaddeus licks his lips lightly. "So, you think Zazriel could be the same way, then?"

He nods lightly. "I do, from how much he reminds me of Sora, it wouldn't hurt to do some digging."

…

It took him a day to calm down, under Nis's patented care, and he finds himself back in his office with his troublesome prisoner sitting before him. Tapping his fingers over the top of his desk, he studies the younger angel closely, Zazriel fidgets in his chair, scratching a finger over his knee lightly.

Thaddeus blinks, smiling suddenly. "I have a gift for you."

"A gift?" Zazriel blinks in surprise. "For _me_?"

"For you." The Warden nods, leaning over to pick up the gift, and leans forward to set the bag on his desk. He pushes it over slightly and gestures to it. "A gift for you."

Zazriel leans to side to stare at the older angel, blinking when he nods, gesturing to the bag again. Tentatively, he leans forward, snagging one of the bags handles, pulling it over to him. Pulling out the tissue paper, setting that aside, he reaches further into the bag, his fingers curling around something soft and fluffy, biting his lip, he pulls his hand upwards, pulling his hand and his gift out of the bag, he pushes the bag aside as he settles his gift in his lap.

A stuffed bear.

A big fluffy plushy brown bear with a blue ribbon tied around its neck.

"A stuffed bear?"

"Yep." He can hear the smile in the older angel's voice. "You like it?"

He smiles, squeezing the bears hand gently, pulling it in for a hug, he presses his face into it's soft fluffy head. "I love it!" He hugs it tight before looking back up to the Warden. "Thank you!"

Thaddeus smiles at him softly, nodding his head lightly. "You are most welcome."

Zazriel sits up slightly, but continues to hug the bear to his chest. "Why are you giving me a gift?" He tilts his head slightly. "I've been nothing but bad to you."

"Not bad, just troublesome." Thaddeus rubs a finger over his lower lip. "You remind me of someone." He leans forward on his elbows. "Would you like another one?"

The boy's eyes widen. "I can have another?"

The older angel nods. "Sure, you can have another." He holds up a finger. "In a week. _And, _only if you're good."

Zazriel nods excitedly. "Can it be a dragon?"

"Sure, if you behave for the entire week, I'll get you a stuffed dragon." He nods. "I'll make you a deal, from here on, if you behave for an entire week, I'll get you a new stuffed animal."

The boy blinks. "And, if I'm bad?"

"Simple, I take your stuffed friends away."

"Even Blue?" He hugs his bear tighter.

Thaddeus smiles gently. "Is that what you named him?" He chuckles softly when the boy nods. "I like it. No, I won't take Blue, but everyone else will go."

The boy holds his bear out again to look down at it, smiling happily, no one had ever given him a gift before. He hugs his bear again and nods. "Deal."

"Very good!" He pushes his chair back, pushing himself to his feet. "Come on you, now that we have a deal in place, we can move onto other things."

Zazriel climbs to his feet, hugging his bear to his chest, watching him cross out from behind his desk. "Like what?"

The Warden bends slightly as he comes to stand next to him, sweeping him up into his arms, the older angel smiles to him in the same manner he's seen him smile to the others. "Now, we get to play." He carries him from his office, and turns up the stairs, this one doesn't go to the chamber, this one is different, he comes upstairs. "I haven't gotten to find all those giggle buttons, and I know they're there, it's time that I do."


	233. Just A Bit Of Cheering Up

He looks up at the knock on his door, marking the page in his book, he sets it aside on the bedside table beside him as he turns around in his bed, setting his bare feet on the smooth stone flooring under him, he rolled the rug up to sweep the floor and just hasn't gotten around to rolling it back out again.

"Come in," he calls out softly, humming to himself as the door handle turns, and the doors pushed up slowly. He smiles in greeting to his young Warden, standing there looking rather sheepish, smiling shyly in that way that tells him he wants something but doesn't give any indication of what that something might be. "Come in, Tadpole, you know you're welcome in my room anytime you want in."

The Warden steps in, kicking off his boots himself, he can see a newly swept floor when he sees one. "Hi, papa."

"Oh, you're calling me _'papa'_," he rubs his hands together playfully. "What ever it is you want must be good."

Thaddeus tugs at the hem of his tunic lightly. "I had a bad day."

"I see," he leans forward. "Do you want papa to make it better?"

He nods shyly. "Yes, please."

"Well," the older angel waves him forward. "Come closer, I can't reach you all the way over there."

Thaddeus shuffles closer, taking small baby steps, until he's close enough for the Power to snag him by the tunic and tug him closer, he yelps, stumbling forward as he's yanked closer, stumbling over his own two feet, the Power scoots to the side as he tumbles over onto the bed. "Turn around here, I need you in position, you have to work with me." He turns in time with the Warden, straddling the younger angel's waist, he smiles down at him, leaning over him, so they're eye to eye. "Where should papa start first, there's so many good giggle spots, what do you think, where should papa start first?"

The younger angel just giggles up at him, and he smiles at the sound of them, wiggling his fingers down at him playfully, it only makes him giggler harder. "How about this belly?" He tugs his tunic up slightly, revealing the tanned toned belly underneath, and wiggles his fingers above it playfully. "This belly always got you going." He reaches down for his thighs, pressing his fingers into the meaty skin, the younger angel shrieks lightly, his legs kicking slightly. "Or, I could play with these thighs, these always get you going." Thaddeus giggles frantically, staring up at him with wide anticipatory eyes, waiting for the attack, Nis is just teasing him now, this isn't the attack, this is just the beginning. "I could poke around those armpits a bit."

"Papa!" He manages between his giggles. "Stop teasing!"

"You never let me have any fun." He digs his fingers into the Warden's thighs, and he shrieks, arching his back as he kicks his legs. "I'll just have to get my enjoyment out of torturing you then."


	234. Lost In The Moment

"I'm pulling Zaves from the floor."

The archangel looks up at his Captain at the declaration, he wasn't asking his permission, he was making a statement. He was doing it whether or not he had approval to do so. He followed his Captain's gaze to the one in question, bouncing between his patients with a smile, nothing seemed off, but for Oren to make such a declaration, clearly something had caught his attention, something he himself hadn't noticed. "Should I be concerned?"

Oren shakes his head lightly, gaze still focused on the youngest Virtues back. "I don't know yet."

…

The answer to that question asked some time ago was _'yes'_, he should be concerned, he should be very concerned.

It had all happened so fast, he had missed super, so the oldest Virtue had gone to see what the matter was, Zaveriel never missed meals, he ate all the time, it was his favorite passed time, he was always snacking on something, his overactive personality burned through more calories than the average person.

He had _not _expected to open his baby brother's door and see him bent over on his side, one arm stretched out, a small tub running from his vein to a large basin beside him. He'd yelled out in surprise, catching the attention of the others down the hall, the conversations fell silent and he heard boots pounding against the stone floor as they made their way over, he paid them no mind as he jumped into his baby brother's room, pressing his thumb to the incision site where the tub went in, to staunch the bleeding physically, he pulls the skinny tub out, trying to bite back the bile in his throat as he nudges the basin filling with blood and grace and the surface of the liquid ripples like a basin of plain water.

Zaveriel doesn't have any ties in his room, nothing to staunch the bleeding once he let go of the small hole, so he struggles to pull his belt off with one hand. It's only his brothers quick thinking that brings him aid, one of them kneels at their youngest's side and takes the belt from him, tightening it around his upper arm, above the incision site. Another darts away, for the Archangel's villa, to alert their archangel of what had been stumbled upon.

No one knew why Zaveriel would attempt to _drain _himself dry.

"He's lost a lot of blood," Oren fumbles slightly as he pulls his unconscious baby brother closer, rolling him up into his arms, he climbs shakily to his feet. "His grace is nearly depleted."

No one mentions the basin they leave behind.

They'll come back to it later.

Zaveriel is limp in his arms, his head lulls around as he runs down the hall towards the stairs that lead down to their Infirmary, a far cry from the happy little sprite that's always bouncing around the place. Some gasp at their sudden appearance, jumping away as they dart for the nearest bed, Oren kneels setting him down gently, frowning at the way he just _lays there_. Like a puppet who's strings have been cut.

"Guys, I can hardly feel him," Ephraim places his fingers on their youngest brother's forehead, and frowns, flinching softly. "There's so much _pain_. He's _hurting _so badly."

"Why didn't he come to us?" Oren pulls a cart over, reaching into the top drawer for a piece of gauze and a roll of medical tape. "He should have told someone."

"It's not that easy, Ori." Akriel sits across from him, a cart pulled over to his side, digging through the third drawer. "Not everyone can find a way to put their hurt into words." He finds what he's looking for, a large syringe, he sets it over the side of the bed so he can roll his sleeve up, then straightens the younger angel's arm, tying a piece of plastic above his elbow, he taps at the inner side, until the vein comes into view. "Our job now is the fix him up and find out what brought this on." He uncaps the needle with his teeth and grimaces as he slides it into his own vein, his grace is older and stronger then the youth's, it'll help in replenishing his own and bide his time until he can, if he gets enough of it.

Constantine walks passed them carrying the basin from upstairs, where he's going with it, they don't know, and they don't want to.

He pulls the stopper on the syringe and cringes as the large vial begins filling with his warm blood and grace, he fills it all the way to the end, leaving just a sliver of space at the end as to not overfill it. He sets the filled syringe back on the bed, wrapping a strap of bandage around his arm, before he takes the large shot back into his hand and reaches down for the youth's arm, poking the needle into his arm, he begins pumping the liquid in slowly.

"What happened?" Seeing their Healer running down the aisle in his night close and barefoot is not a sight that is typically seen, he kneels at his Captain's side, reaching out to feel for a pulse on the younger angel, nodding when he feels one, weak but growing stronger as Akriel continues to push the stopper on the syringe. "Zed was too out of breath to say much on the matter, just that I was needed."

"He was draining himself." Constantine returns with the basin, it's empty, they don't want to think about where he poured it out at. "He missed supper and Oren went to check on him." He gestures down to him. "That's how we found him."

Raphael nods, petting the youth's blonde curls back, pressing the back of his hand over the younger angels forehead, checking for any sign of a fever. "This is going to take time to heal, not to mention the emotional trauma of coming so close, and failing, he clearly hadn't intended to be found." He feels for his pulse again, nodding at the strength it has now that Akriel has empty the vial into his veins. "Oren, Akriel, I'm pulling you for the next two months, one of you will remain at his side without fail, he is not to be alone for the time being." He looks to his mental specialist. "Give it a few days after he wakes up, but then begin sessions, once daily, twice if you can manage it." He turns to his Captain. "He will stay with you Oren, I am tasking you to be his watcher, you and he will be attached at the hip."

The Archangel turns to his apothecary. "Zed, I need a few blood replenishing potions." He nods, wandering off to his workstation to dig through the vials he has for what was needed from him, he always has a few of everything ready, just in case. Once he returns, the force the boy to swallow them, and his pallor complexion slowly takes on color.

Oren pulls a chair up to his bedside, sitting down beside him, leaning forward on his knees. "You can all return upstairs if you want, I'll stay with him."

Across from him, Akriel pulls a chair up on his other side. "I'll stay too."

Constantine and Ephraim exchange looks. "Alright, we'll go get some rest and swap out with you in a few hours."

"I'll stay the whole night." Oren shakes his head, staring at the peaceful face of their baby brother, he wants to shake him awake and demand to know what he was thinking, he wants to hug him and hold him and tell him everything's going to be okay, he wants to do it all. "I'll be fine."

"Oren," the Archangel intercedes before they can reply, squeezing his shoulder gently. "I know you're worried about your little hummingbird but wearing yourself to the bone will be of no help, you _will _head to bed when they come to change places with you later."

His Captain nods lightly, there's no use fighting it, one of them will simply tell on him. "I want to be there when he wakes."

"And, you will be, my Ori, but all things come in time." He rubs a hand down the back of his head. "But you being asleep on your feet will not aid you in being there when he really needs you."

Oren nods again, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I understand. I'll be ready to change places."

"Very good." The Healer looks between the others before his gaze settles back on his youngest Virtue, laying peacefully in the bed, bandaged up and mending. "If anything else happens, please, come and get me."


	235. Silencing The Mole

Those closest to the stairs stopped and stared as the figure slowly limped up the stairwell, using the wall beside them as a support, barely putting any weight on their left foot, they moved limply and stiffly, one bloodied hand curled around his mouth. They stopped and stared as he made his forward, dragging his left foot slightly, he stumbled towards one soul, one person, they only wanted one person.

"Nisroc!" Their Captain looks up at the sound of his name, looking up to meet his brother's eyes, Abraxos points at something over his shoulder, and he turns, his eyes widening at the sight that awaits him. Running forward, he catches the angel before his legs finally give out, tumbling over midstep, tumbling forward into his arms. "Sablo!"

The youngest Power uncurls his hand from around his mouth and latches onto the Captain's sleeves, tugging desperately at his sleeves, he mumbles desperately. They can only stare, his talking is cut off, impossible, his mouth is sewn shut.

"Sablo!" Hands curl around his cheeks as he hangs onto the oldest Power. He shakes his head and reaches into his tunic with a shaking hand, slowly pulling out a wrapped up scroll, holding it up to the Captain imploringly. "Abraxos, take the scroll." The other Power does just in time for the youth's legs to give out, and their Captain scoops him up, swinging him up into his arms.

"Nisroc, this is unbelievable, it's a complete outline of their frontline, _and _plans for a siege."

"That's great, have someone get it to Michael," he turns, jogging passed the stunned Power. "I'm going upstairs."

Abraxos nods, handing it off to one next to him, and turns to run after him.

Nisroc takes the stairs two at a time, careful not to jostle his passenger too much, but it can't be helped. "Puri! Puri, I need you!" He jumps up the final two stairs and jogs through the Lounge, calling out to their medic, grimacing at Sablo's small muffled cries. "Puri! Puri, come on! I need you!" The medic pokes his head out of his room with wide eyes. "Wha—Sablo?" Darting from the doorway, he meets him in the middle of the hall, turning their Baby Power's face towards him, frowning deeply. "What happened!"

"Is that really important right now?" His Captain barks deeply. "Does he _look _like he can answer?"

"Right, right, not the time." He pushes Nisroc down the hall slightly. "Go, take him to your room, the familiar environment will make him feel safest." His Captain nods, continuing his way down the hall quickly, kicking his door open, he leaves with the knowledge that the medic will gather what he needs and join them.

Haniel and Titus appear first, hovering in the doorway, having heard their Captain's shouts as he entered, and they step into the room silently, coming to stand on the other side of the bed as their Captain lowers their youngest down onto it.

"His neck," Titus points out, his neckline is covered in blood, some dark, dried, and some amber, still soaking into his collar. The runes were carved deeply, they glistened with blood and grace. Nisros pulls the younger angel's collar down gently and frowns. "Now we know where this kind of entrapment is coming from."

"Haniel, I need two basins of warm water." Their medic enters a moment later, carrying with him a tray of supplies, with Abraxos at his side, carrying an arm full of rags and towels. The younger Power nods, darting from the room with his mission set for him.

Puriel stands at the foot of the bed, hands on his hips, and stares. "I don't know where to start."

Nisroc looks up at him, clutching at his hand tightly, nodding to him encouragingly. "Well, the way I see it, you could either start from head to toe, or toe to head, but you'll have to start somewhere."

Their medic nods lightly, setting his tray down on the end of the bed, he'll start with the foot. Haniel makes his reappearance, with Hasmal at his side, both carrying two large basins of warm water, just as he had requested. "I'll start with his left foot, it's twisted awkwardly, we'll start here."

They all share a nod, two of them leaning in to undo his belt when the medic gestures to his trousers, and they help him shimmy out of them. The bone of his left leg is sticking out of the skin, and they all grimace, it must have taken some blow to cause that much damage. "Hold him down, I have to set the bone."

Nisroc nods, using his free hand to hold down the Baby Power's right shoulder, Titus takes up a spot at his left, holding him down in turn, and they both nod to the medic when he turns to look at them, inquiring on if they were ready or not. He grips just above the broken bone, and just below, and yanks them apart, setting the bone back together. Sablo screams behind his sealed lips, struggling against the one's holding him down. He sets the bone and splints his leg, careful not to bandage it until they could wash it up. Hasmal swaps places with him, sponge in hand, pulling one of the basins over to him, sitting on the edge, preparing to clean him up from the feet up. Haniel follows on his other side.

They sit him up to pull his tunic off when the medic motions for them to do so, Sablo whines, looking over to their Captain, and Nisroc coos down at him, pressing the back of his hand to his lips. "It's alright, papa's here, just a little bit longer."

Titus stares at his neck. "Puri, the runes."

"Right, right." The medic pushes him down slightly to get a closer look. "They're fresh, recently drawn."

"You need to break them."

Puriel shakes his head, pushing the youngest Power's head to the side slightly to get a better look, reaching for a cloth to clear a spot up. "They're already broken."

"What?" The guards captain leans forward, and the medic points to the line, breaking the runes magic. "How are they already broken?"

The older Power looks down at him a moment. "How do you think he got here?"

Titus looks down at their Baby Power, he can't imagine having to carve them himself, let alone in order for him to escape.

"Tus, will you clean up his neck?" He nods, reaching for a sponge, pulling the second basin of water to him, Haniel and Hasmal work their way up quickly, rubbing over his belly. With those being handled, he turns his attention to the lips, frowning as he leans forward to examine them. Crudely done, there's quite a bit of tearing, he nods firmly, he can fix this.

He turns first to his Captain. "Nis, distract him, I'm going to snip the stitches and it's going to get very uncomfortable."

Nisroc nods, squeezing the hand he holds in his, drawing the youth's attention to him, and begins a long tale in what he had missed while he was gone. Sablo stares at him, hanging onto every word, only flinching softly when the medic begins the task of snipping the stitches. There's a slight tugging sensation but its nothing too disturbing. Once they're all snipped up, he pulls the thread free, dabbing at the bleeding holes with a damp cloth. He applies some disinfectant and antibacterial paste to finish it up, just as the other finish sponging him clean, and he brings it to an end by wrapping bandages around his neck and left leg, to keep the wounds from becoming irritated through everyday life.

"You're never going back," their Captain kisses the Baby Power's knuckles. "You hear me, never, and I'll fight anyone who says differently."

Sablo nods, reaching for the oldest Power. "Hold me."

Nisroc nods, sliding into the bed beside him, pulling him up under his arm, he presses him against his side. "There you go, papa's got you, you're alright."

Puriel and Haniel clean up the mess around them, Abraxos disappears with one basin and returns for the other, Hasmal disappears with his worn soiled clothes, probably to burn them, and Titus brushes his curls back gently. "I'll go get supper started. We're having soup." He smiles to the Baby Power. "It'll be easier on those lips."

Sablo smiles up at him, slightly, the pull irritates the wounds. "Thank, Tus."

He brushes his curls back again. "No problem, Baby Power." He leans over, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. "Welcome home."

When they're alone, he looks up to his Captain, pressing his cheek to his chest lightly. "I was so scared, papa."

"I bet you were." He presses his lips to the side of his forehead. "But you're home, with me, and I'll be damned if I let anything happen to you again."

Sablo smiles up at him, rubbing his cheek against his chest softly. "Papa bear."

"Darn right I am." He presses another kiss to his forehead. "I'm your papa bear, and you, you're my baby bear."


	236. It's Not The Same

"At least I'm getting out of here."

That's it. That's what breaks the dam. It's the straw that breaks the camels back. White noise fills his ears and his throat closes up as tears burn his eyes. He can vaguely hear his puppy guard's enraged barking over his own hysteria, and he stumbles around, crashing into one of the cell doors as he turns. He runs down the hall, he doesn't even know if Qasp is following, and he doesn't care, even though he knows he's supposed to, but he doesn't care, he just wants papa.

Michael still hasn't come, he still hasn't lifted a sentence, he hadn't known that one little act would have been granted him a life sentence, he's too young to be stuck here for life.

He stumbles forward, tears clouding his vision, falling into the office door, he pushes it open with a loud bang and stumbles into the office. He sees two figures, one closer and the other a bit farther, the one he wants isn't that close, he's standing behind the desk.

"Papa!" He wails, throwing himself forward, he throws himself around the desk until he's colliding with the one person he wants the most in the whole wide world. "Papa!"

"Zoph, what's wrong?" Thaddeus stumbles back as he catches the boy, having thrown himself at him, his momentum sends him back a step. "Hey," he rubs a hand down the back of his head, threading his fingers through his curls, Zophiel likes it when people do that, he's like him in that way, he likes it when people play with his hair. "What happened?"

"I—I—I was exploring!" He inhales between his sobs. "And—And—And I ran into Theo!" The Warden nods, urging him to continue. "We—We got into an argument and—and—and he said I was never getting out!"

"But, Zophi, you go out all the time with papi."

"Yea, Zoph," the Power in question leans over the desk to ruffle the boy's curls. "We went out yesterday, remember?"

"But—But it's not the same!" He wails into the older angel's chest. "I—I—I can't out without papi!"

"I know you can't," he pets his curls soothingly. "I know. Sshhhh, sshhh, it's alright." Thaddeus sits in his chair, pulling the small angel down with him, they've been through this enough times, he knows how to handle his way around this sort of thing. He can't blame him for having these episodes, if he were his age and had the knowledge that he'd been given a life sentence, he'd have a few breakdowns too. Zophiel lets himself be pulled down, straddling his lap, he leans back as the Warden leans over, reaching into the bottom right drawer, he pulls out a stuffed bear, he's the one that the boy always comes to when he has these breakdowns, so Thaddeus is always prepared. "Here, Zophi, give Oscar a big hug."

Zophiel takes the bear, hugging it close, he buries his face into the fluffy head. Fingers continue stroking through his curls. He rests against the Warden's shoulder, his sobs coming to a standing silence, his nose wheezing softly as he breaths, hugging his bear under his chin, he turns to hide his face in the side of the older angel's neck.

Nisroc frowns in concern as he watches his Warden put the boy to sleep, his cries and sobs silenced, wheezing softly as he slept against the Warden's chest. "Does this happen often?"

Thaddeus nods, rubbing at the poor boy's back soothingly, listening to him wheeze softly against his neck, under his ear, he rubs at his back and scratches at the back of his neck. "More than you'd think. At least once a week. I come to work prepared now. It's easier to just put him to sleep."

The Captain nods, he understands that, he'd do the same in that situation. "I thought our time out would have helped."

"And, they do, he loves going out with his papi." Nisroc glares at him playfully, there's no heat in it, he knows his old guardian secretly likes being called _'papi'_. "But, he's right, it's not the same. He can't leave without you as an escort."

Nisroc nods, he understands that as well, it truly wasn't the same. "I would try to talk sense into Michael, but he has none, and I do not have the patients to try and give him some."

"No, no," he shakes his head, patting Zophiel's back lightly, the boy hiccups softly and nuzzles closer. "You taking him out is more than enough." He smiles slightly, turning to press a kiss to the side of the boy's head. "He loves his papi very much."

The Power shakes his head fondly, smiling at the back of the boy's head, leaning over on his right arm. "Papi loves him very much as well."

"You big softie."

"If you weren't holding my grandson, and if he wasn't asleep, I'd show you just how soft I've become."

Thaddeus makes a face, lifting the boy from his chest lightly, Zophiel murmurs and cuddles into his bear adorably. "Want to hold your grandson, I must warn you, he's a big cuddler."

"I handled _you_, I think I can handle him." He stands, reaching for the boy, Zophiel stirs as he's moved, and he coos to the boy softly until he settles down again. He makes a sound of surprise when the boy curls around him tightly, and falls back into his seat, curling his arms around him tightly. "He's a strong one."

"I told you."


	237. The Rewards Of Hard Work

"Did I do good?" The young angel sitting before him asks excitedly, hopeful that he did good enough for a reward, he tried all week to do good, he didn't talk back and did as he was told, he tried really hard. "I tried really hard to be good for the whole week like I was supposed to, I did want to snap at the guard last night, I asked him to get you and he said you had other things to worry about other then a small uppity prisoner, I wanted to reach through the bars and punch him, but I didn't, did I do good Thaddy?"

The Warden chuckles lightly at the boy's fretting for having the desire to lash out, the matter of that point was that he didn't, he withheld himself, turned the other cheek. "Yes, don't worry yourself Zazriel, I've been keeping an eye on you, I know about the incident last night and that guard has been dealt with accordingly," he made it a point for all of his guards to know that he was here for his prisoners, if they needed him, they were to come get him.

Zazriel tilts his head to the side. "But, how'd you know, you weren't even down here."

"I have eyes and ears all over this place," he points a stern finger at the boy. "Don't think for a moment that I won't know of any misbehaving while I'm away." He leans forward over his desk, resting on his elbows. "So, is there anything you feel as though you need to tell me?"

The young prisoner frowns lightly, cringing on the inside, if he spilled the beans, he might not get his reward, but then if Thaddy found out he was lying he might not get _any _more rewards. Sighing softly, the boy looks to his feet, rubbing the toe of his boot against the stone floor. "I kicked someone when you were away."

"I see, and why did you kick them?"

He rubs at his cheek lightly. "Because, they wouldn't let me bring Blue with me during bath time."

"Uhuh, are you sorry that you kicked them?"

Zazriel nods lightly, curling his fingers in the hem of his plain tunic, he's surely not getting his reward now. He kicked someone, he was bad, Thaddy was going to yell at him now and send him back and take away Blue and—

"Well, if you're sorry, then that's what counts, and you told me the truth, which also counts." He looks back up at the Warden's fond tone, he doesn't sound mad, he sounds as cheerful as he usually does. "I've talked to them as well, you can bring Blue with you when its bath time, but he doesn't come in the water with you, alright?"

He nods forlornly. He blew his chances.

"Now, because you admitted your wrong doing and didn't lie to me about it, and you being remorseful for it, I think that calls for some kind of reward."

His eyes flit up to the older angels, he winks at him playfully, and he simply stares straight at him in return. "I…I still get a reward?

"I would think so, you used to explode at my guards for the smallest of things, but this time it was over something that was deemed important to you, I know how much you like to bring Blue with you wherever you go, and I forgot to tell my guards about it before I left, so that's on me." He pats a few fingers over the top of his desk. "And, you didn't lie to me about it when you were given the opportunity to. Not to mention that you're sorry for what you did. You wouldn't have been before we made our deal." He nods at him firmly. "So, yes, I do believe you deserve a reward." He reaches down into his desk drawer. "What was it you wanted again?"

Zazriel bounces in his seat. "A dragon! I wanted a dragon!"

"Well, it just so happens that I have one stuffed dragon," he sits back up, holding up a decently sized stuffed dragon, wings and all. "Right here."

Zazriel makes a soft sound of bright excitement, bouncing excitedly in his seat, his fledgling like excitement amuses the Warden at the sight of it. "Is it for me!?"

"Do you have a name for it?"

"Smokey!"

He chuckles softly, leaning over, holding the stuffed dragon out. "Well then, I guess Smokey belongs to you."

"Yay!" The young angel snatches the dragon out of his hand, hugging it close to his chest, he holds it out, waving it up and down by the wings as though to mimic it flying. "Thank you!"

"You don't have to thank me, you earned it fair and square, I'm very proud of you."

Zazriel looks up from his new dragon, hugging it back to his chest. "You're proud of me?"

"I sure am, you did very good, I knew you could do it."

It warms his heart, and at the same time kind of breaks it, at the way the boy beams at the praise he recieves.

…

He sits on the Wardens knee, Blue sitting next to him on the desk, listening to the crackle of the fire, and Zophiel whisper to the puppy at his side where they lay together under the blanket on the large dog bed before the fire, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he colors vigorously at his piece of parchment.

An arm snakes around his waist, and a bearded chin rubs at the curve of his jaw as a fond kiss is pressed to his cheek, the Warden's continuous writing having halted for a moment. "What are you coloring, Zaz?"

His coloring halts at the question, and he turns to look over at the older angel, he smiles at him in greeting, pecking the tip of his nose. "I'm drawing Blue." He sets his crayon aside and lifts his masterpiece up for him to see. "How's it look, Thaddy?"

"Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say I was looking at two Blues."

Zazriel beams at the praise of his coloring and smiles to himself as he sets his parchment back down. "Will you hang it on your wall when I'm done with it?"

"I already have the perfect place for it in my mind."

"How!" The boy exclaims happily. "I just asked!"

Thaddeus chuckles softly, patting him on the belly lightly. "I can read minds."

"Oh yea, what am I thinking now, then!"

"That I can't read minds."

Zazriel giggles and looks back down to his drawing. "You're silly, papa." His sentence stops abruptly, cut off quick, and he tenses as he waits for the reply, he knows his slip up was heard, he knows Thaddy heard him say _it_.

The beard rubs in again as another kiss is pressed to his cheek. "I know."

He looks over at him again, he hadn't expected that. "You're not mad?"

"Mad?" The Warden looks over at him. "About what?"

"Well, I called you _'papa'_, and I called Xavier that once, my old guardian, and he got mad and said he wasn't my papa and then he yelled at me and—"

"Hey, hey, hey," Thaddeus cuts him off gently, patting his belly again. "I don't mind. It was wrong of him to get so mad at you for it. If you think of me as your papa, then call me papa, I don't mind if you do." He gestures over to the Zophiel with a nod of his head. "Zoph does too."

Zazriel stares at him a moment, as though looking for signs of deceit, and when he finds none, he smiles. "Okay, papa."

"There you go, baby boy." He pats his belly again. "I'm almost done with my paperwork, you finish your coloring, and when we're done, you and I can go have some fun."

"What about Zoph?"

The Warden smiles at him. "He's going out with Nis today; he's just waiting for training to end."

The young angel giggles softly. "Papa, when you're done, can we play the giggle game?"

Thaddeus chuckles lightly, wiggling a finger into his belly, making him giggle and squirm lightly. "Sure we can, I love the giggle game."


	238. Just Some Fluffy Times

"Oel, you can't stay mad at me forever." Was what the Warden said as soon as the youth entered his office and sat in the farthest corner he could find, huffing like any teenager would when they perceived a wrong doing, and turning to face away from him. "I feed you."

It had been an honest mistake, sure, he had been quick to place blame, but the boy's history of having sticky fingers does him no favors. But, boy, could that kid hold a grudge. A pair of keys had come up missing, and of course, with his history of taking his things, his first suspect had been Jahoel. The boy had vehemently denied his guilt, but still he had expressed his disappointment in him.

As it turned out, Qaspiel had taken the keys, he'd left his own back in his room at the Pavilion and had taken the keys off his desk that morning before he came up to wake up Zoph.

He'd tried to apologize to the boy in question, but Jahoel had wanted nothing to do with him, blowing him off with a shoulder check as he left to bother Sabaoth for the afternoon.

It's been three days since then.

"Yes, I can." The first thing he's said to him in the last three days, it was small progress, but it was progress none the less. "Just watch me."

"Alright, that's it." He sets his pen down, pushing the stack of files away from him, and pushes his chair back to climb to his feet. Stepping out from behind his desk, he crosses his office to stand at the boy's back, reaching out, he pulls him to his feet, spinning him around. "Let's have a talk."

"I have nothing to say—_Hey!" _Jahoel yelps as he's swept up off his feet, tossed over the Warden's shoulder, and carried him from the office. He pounds his fists against the older angel's back. "Let me go! Put me down!"

"Oh, I'll put you down when we reach our destination."

"I don't want to go anywhere with you!"

"Too bad," he pats him on the bottom as he reaches out to open the door to his room. "We're going to the big bed."

The big bed, otherwise known at _his _bed, was where all the fun stuff happened, the giggle games, the torture, the compromising. It all took place on the big bed.

Thaddeus kicks the door shut softly with the heel of his boot, and crosses over to stand at the side of his bed, leaning over to toss him back from over his shoulder. Jahoel yelps as he flips over, waving his arms lightly, the Warden is just so tall, it's like he's freefalling. He turns away from him as the older angel bends over to untie his boots, the Prison can run itself for a certain amount of time without his presence being needed, and they could use that time to fix this rift between them.

"I said I was sorry, Jahoel." He climbs up next to the young angel and turns him around by the shoulder, climbing up to sit around his waist. "I was wrong, and I'm sorry."

"You said you were disappointed in me, that you were mad at me, and I didn't even do anything wrong." His arms are crossed stubbornly even in his laying position. "I hate you."

"You do not." He prepares his canvas, he's going to make himself a happy boy, and he knows just the way to do it. "You love me, with all your little heart."

"Not anymore."

"Even still, you adore me." He pokes a finger into his lower belly and Jahoel bites his lip to keep from giggling. "You _love _me." He pokes around his belly button. "Tell me that you love me." The boy shakes his head stubbornly. "Come on, say it, say that you love me, or I'm pushing my favorite giggle button." Jahoel bites his lip again, shaking his head once more, staring up at him stubbornly. "Alright, don't say I didn't warn you."

He dips his finger into the boy's belly button, and just as he had expected, the boy shrieks as he arches his back. "Now, are you going to tell me you love me?"

Jahoel shrieks with laughter, and shakes his head frantically, he sighs deeply. "Oel, I've said it a thousand times, I'm _sorry_, I shouldn't have been so quick to assume it was you, I'm not perfect, I made a mistake." He leans over him, pressing their foreheads together lightly, looking him in the eyes. "Can you ever forgive me?"

The boy curls his fingers around his hand, pulling his finger out of his belly button, and breaks into a large smile. "I wasn't mad anymore, I just wanted to see how far I could guilt trip you."

His eyes widen. "You just wanted to see—"

"I played you so hard, I got to have extra dessert and got to stay up late, it was fun while it lasted."

Thaddeus stares at him in shock. "You played me?"

"Like a fiddle."

"You little stink." He braces his fingers in preparation of an attack. "Now, I'm going to _play _you."

Jahoel giggles softly as he licks the Warden's nose. "Do your worst."

…

He hugs his bear to his chest as he reaches a hand out between the cell bars, waiting for a guard to spot it and come see what the problem was, he doesn't have to wait long, a guard spots his hand and wanders over, leaning over slightly to look at him between the bars.

"What's wrong?"

He blinks up at the guard, hugging his bear closer. "I want Thaddy."

The guard nods, reaching for the keys on his belt, he slides it into the lock and turns, pulling the gate open. "Come on."

He steps out, feeling the guards hand ghost lightly over his left elbow, as he leads him down the hall towards the stairs that lead up to the Warden's quarters. His guard escort nods to the guard posted at the bottom of the stairs, and they allow the young prisoner to pass.

Clutching his bear tightly, he takes the first step, then the second, and before he knows it, he's half way there. Stopping before the door, he reaches out, turning the handle, he steps in, closing the door behind him. He knows the layout, papa's room is the first one on the left, and he reaches up for the door handle.

Turning it, he pushes it open slightly, and peeks inside.

Papa is reading a book in bed, looking up when the door creaks lightly, and smiles to him in greeting. "Hello, Zaz, what are you doing up here?"

Zazriel ducks into his bears head lightly. "I had a bad dream."

"Aw, you did?" He sets his book down over his lap. "Did you want to sleep with papa?"

He nods lightly, clutching Blue close. "Yes, please."

"Alright," he lifts the edge of his blanket up slightly. "Climb on in."

Scurrying over, Zazriel climbs down under the blankets, sidling up close to the older angel, hiding in his side. A large hand pats the back of his head lightly, tugging gently at his curls, and the Warden chuckles softly. "Hey, come on up, it's okay."

He peeks out from under the covers. "Promise?"

"Cross my heart."

He pokes out of the blankets a bit more, leaning heavily against the Warden's side, and hugs Blue up under his chin. "Papa, promise to never leave me?"

"Never. You're one of my babies. You're stuck with me."

…

"There's my little mouse!" The fledgling shrieks excitedly as he's swung up off his feet, curling his arm around the older angel's shoulders as he's settled to rest on his hip, large fingers tug lightly at his blue velvet vest. "Looking pretty snappy with that little vest there." He tugs at the end of his own green vest. "We match, sort of."

The small five-year-old giggles, pressing his fingers to his lips, smiling brightly in the way that happy children do. "Wanna be like you, papa!"

He chuckles, patting him on the bottom lightly. "Well, you most certainly dressed for the part," he pokes him in the side playfully just to make him squeak softly. "Are you going to help papa today?"

Bright blue eyes stare up at him. "Can I, papa?"

"Of course, you can," and he giggles again when he pokes him on the nose softly. "We have some intakes to show around, some paperwork," the boy makes a face, "I know, that's real fun, then we'll have some lunch, and then it's nap time for my little mouse, but I'm free after that."

"We can play together, papa?"

Thaddues pulls the fledgling around, holding him up above his head, smiling up at him playfully, taking in his exuberant giggles as they exploded from him like a volcano below. "Of course, we'll play together. Papa loves playing." He kisses him on the nose. "Especially with little mice."

Benjamin smiles brightly, leaning forward to kiss him on the nose. "I like playing with you too, papa."

"Good," he drops him back down to his hip and turns, snagging up the three files with his free had, before turning them towards the open door. "Because, I would have been sad if you didn't."

Yehudiah smiles at him in greeting, having followed his charge to his room, and together they all make their way downstairs. He nods to the guards posted at the bottom of the stairs, two of his boys are still sleeping, and he trusts them to make sure nothing gets up there without his permission.

Reaching for the keys on his belt, he unlocks his office door, and enters in. Dropping the three files on his desk, he stands next to it, nodding to the guard waiting in the door way to signify that he was ready for the new intakes to be brought from their holding cell to him so they could be placed.

The guard at his side steps closer. "Thaddy, I can take him if you want, we'll just follow behind."

The Warden shakes his head, bouncing the boy slightly on his arm. "It's fine, I got him, he's a light weight."

The guards march the three new intakes in, and he feels little Ben's curls rub against the side of his neck as he lays his head down to rest on his shoulder.

He raises an eyebrow at the one. "Why's this one wearing a muzzle?"

"She bit the guard who brought her in."

"I see," he nods in understanding, turning back to the girl in question. "Do you know what soap tastes like?"

The small prisoner shakes her head.

"Do you want to find out?"

She shakes her head again.

"Then I suggest you refrain from biting any more of my guard." He rests his cheek on Ben's head. "Because, if you don't, and I find out you bit another one of my guards, and I _will _find out, I'll make you sit in one of these chairs with a bar of soap in your mouth for an _hour_." His eyes gaze into hers, trying to portray how serious he was being as he said his warning and promise. "Do you understand?"

She nods quickly, and he nods to the guard behind her, humming as he slowly undid the locking mechanism on the muzzle and pulled it free.

"I know exactly where I'm putting you, your neighbor can tell you all about how a bar of soap tastes, let this warning be a lasting one."

He nods to the man beside her. "You, what are you here for?"

He glowers slightly, and Thaddeus knows right then and there that this one is going to be trouble, not to fear, he has his papa on speed dial, he'll set anyone straight, no matter of age. "Shouldn't you alright know?"

"Oh, I _do _already know, but your crime is so utterly ridiculous that I want to hear you say it."

The man glowers again, clutching his fists at his sides. "I stole from The Armory."

"How did you get into _The _Armory?"

"I took a vile of blood from a warrior in the Infirmary."

The fledgling scrunches his nose up. "Papa, that's yucky."

The Warden raises his chin in challenge when the man first glares at his fledgling, humming when his gaze turns downwards, and nods along to his small mouse's statement. "It _is _yucky, Ben."

He turns his attention to the final prisoner, younger then the first two, but still older then the minors. "You look absolutely terrified." They nod slightly. "Well, don't be scared, everything will be okay. I'll take good care of you."

…

"Thaddy! It's not what it looks like!" He tries to plead his case as he's escorted down the hall by the ear, but his pleas are falling on deaf ears, he had been forewarned after all, he was supposed to stop that behavior, it wasn't going to be tolerated. "Really! It's not!"

Those fingers around his ear tug lightly. "Hush, Rizoel."

His mouth closes with a soft clap. They climb the stairs to the upstairs together, silently, neither one saying a word. Thaddy opens the door to his room and guides him in by the ear, pulling the door closed behind him, he guides them over to the vanity to the right and takes up the thick wooden brush in his free hand, Rizoel watches him do so with wide eyes, he'd just assumed he'd use his hand.

"Rizoel," he cringes at the stern tone, Thaddy is really upset at him, he hadn't even called him by his fond nickname. "What did I say would happen if you got back into that whole espionage business?"

He almost doesn't want to answer, but he's expected to, and he doesn't want to make it worse for himself. "That you'd take me over your knee."

"Do you know how lucky you are that it was Nisroc who caught you, and not Michael?"

The boy nods, he knew of Zoph's predicament, they all did.

They come to stand before the edge of the bed, and the Warden lets his ear go as he sits over the edge of the bed, gesturing towards his waist. "Bare yourself."

He gulps, but complies, unbuckling his belt and shimmying his trousers down just the right amount to where his rear is exposed, but not all of him. Thaddeus helps guide him down, the hairbrush sitting to his left, and he soon finds himself turned over, staring at the floor as he prepares himself for what's about to happen. He hadn't stopped to think about the consequences of sneaking into Michael's office and picking the lock on the safe, he truly was lucky it was the Power who found him, Zoph was a large controversy for them right now, there were some who were standing by him and denouncing his sentence. The Healer was a big advocate for his release. He knew of the long-term effects his sentence could have. Those with life sentences are extremely rare. Zoph is the only one at the moment.

He inhales when the back of the brush presses to his left cheek and then pulls away, waiting a tense moment, he yells when it comes back down sharply, kicking his legs out and pushing himself up with his hands, he almost slides off the Warden's lap, until he lands a particularly harsh blow to his right thigh. "Get back down."

Rizoel falls forward, letting his arms dangle over the floor, he cries out with every smack as a steady beat is taken up, left, right, left, right, thighs, peppering down everywhere. When the burn starts to really set in, he starts to squirm, tears burning his eyes before they stream down his face. He's sobbing by two minutes, his bottom is pure lava, and he blubbers out apology after apology, but they fall on deaf ears, as Thaddy continues to rain his fury down on his reddened burning behind.

He's so caught up in his reprimanding that he doesn't see the two hands fly back until he hears the cry of pain when the brush smacks down against his fingers harshly, he blinks in surprise, as gut wrenching sobs fill the room around them, and Rizoel goes tumbling off his lap, as he shakes his burning hands, the backs of his fingers already reddening from the blow they'd taken.

"Rizo!" He lets the brush slide from his hand, cursing himself for not paying better attention, it's not unusual for hands to come flying back during those sorts of meetings. "Let me see, let me see." He takes his hands gingerly, blowing over the red skin lightly, and Rizoel chokes on a sob, squeaking about his hands between each one. "Let me get some ice." He helps the youth stand with him, reaching down, he pulls his trousers back up over his rear, buttoning them in place, he pulls the belt free, setting it on his desk as he crosses to the ice box. A small bag of ice in hand, he guides the younger angel over to his bed, this is his favorite part of the whole experience.

They lay together on his bed, him back against the pillows, and Rizo between his legs on his belly, his hands resting limply over his lower chest, his chin pressing to his belly, he blows on his fingers again before setting the ice down over them. It'll keep the swelling down if it sits there for a few minutes. Rizoel's sobs fade out into soft hiccups as the ice slowly numbs the ache in his fingers, and he turns his head, resting his ear against his belly, wheezing softly through his nose as he hiccups. The feeling of fingers stroking through his hair helps to settle him down, and the ice over his fingers fights off the burn rather well, and he hiccups softly as he licks his lips.

"I'm sorry, papa."

"I know you are, it's okay." The ice is lifted slightly for him to examine his fingers. "I'm sorry about your fingers."

"It's okay, papa."

"Good," he scratches a finger behind his ear. "You do that again and I'll strap you, understand?"

He nods weakly. "Yessir."

"Good boy."

…

"Papa?" He hums from over her head, and she resists the urge to turn to look up at him, not wanting to mess up his work. "How do you know how to do this?"

_This _is braiding tiny flowers into her long dark hair, bright blue little flowers, they make her eyes pop. Thaddeus knows what he's doing, as his fingers skillfully weave the flowers in, careful not to tug too hard and hurt her. "I have long hair."

"You've braided flowers in your hair?"

"Yes," he reaches down, poking her in the side, she giggles slightly and leans away. "And, if you tell anyone, I'll destroy you, I have a reputation to uphold."

"That's silly, papa."

"You think that's silly," he ties off her long braid and nudges her shoulder slightly. "You should see papi with flowers in his hair."

Now that he's done, she does turn to gawk at him. "_Papi_, too?"

"M'hmm."

She giggles at the thought of it. "Papa, can I braid the rest of the flowers into your hair?"

He squeezes her shoulders as he stands from the edge of his bed, in order to swap places with her, and she smiles as they do. "Sure, princess."

…

He tries to ignore the eyes that stare at him, for certain intervals, before they turn back to the book in the boy's lap. The soft sounds of a pencil scratching over fills the room, intermingling with the intermittent scratching of his pen over parchment, the focus is palpable.

"Done!" Is the happy exclamation that breaks the silence and he sets his paperwork to look up at the young artist. "Well, let's see it then."

The boy passes his journal over, and he takes it gingerly, he's always been quite the artist, but his skill has most certainly improved with time. "Sasha, this is amazing."

"Thanks, daddy."

He narrows his eyes as he looks in closer. "Is that….Is that _gray _hair?"

"You do have some gray hair."

"I do _not_."

Sasha smiles slyly and stands from his chair, crossing around the desk, he tugs the chair around. "Right here." He swipes his fingers over his head. "It's intermixed."

"It's is _not_."

The youngling giggles lightly. "Yes, it is."

Thaddeus tosses his journal aside lightly, and turns, pulling him down into his lap. "Any gray hair I have is because of my kids."

Sasha giggles again. "Including me?"

"Including you, for sure."


	239. Down To The Second

It took him nearly a week to wake up, under constant supervision, it was only in his favor that his wish of being there when he did finally awaken was granted in that it was his turn to sit with him when he finally moved. It was just a slight twitch of his fingers, curling into the blanket slightly, but it was movement, more than they had seen in seven days and six nights, he'd take anything.

Oren scoots forward, sitting on the edge of his chair, reaching out to envelope the smaller hand in his own, giving it a reassuring squeeze, he looks up to their other sentry, and Ephraim nods, standing from his seat to go for the Healer, Raphael had said for him to be notified when there was any sign of life, of him returning to consciousness.

"Zavey, Zavey it's Ori, I'm here." He presses his lips to his younger brother's knuckles. "I'm right here, baby brother. Come back to me, please come back, I need you. I need you to wake up, please Zavey, please wake up."

He looks up at the sound of their approach, their archangel and his brothers, and the Healer gestures for him to continue, Zaveriel had always been closest to his Captain.

"Please, open your eyes, Zavey." He kisses his knuckles again. "Open those beautiful silver eyes. Let us see them, let me see them, please, please open your eyes." He smiles when those eyes flutter behind closed eyelids. "That's it, you can do it, open those beautiful eyes for us, let us see them, come on Zavey, I know you can do it." His eyes flutter slightly, until they flutter open, wide and alarmed, looking between the familiar faces, and he chokes on a cry, at the end there, he wasn't sure if he'd ever get to see those eyes again with life in them.

Zaveriel had lost a _lot _of blood.

His gaze travels around them and stops on the last, the one holding his hand, and he stares, his fingers curling weakly, as though to grip his hand.

Oren smiles, a watery smile, as tears gather in his eyes, pressing his lips back to those pale knuckles. "Welcome back, hummingbird, we've missed you."

Raphael crosses around to his other side, directing his attention from the Captain to the Archangel, his eyes flitting from one to the other, and the Healer smiles down at him, checking the IV bag first before checking in on him. "Hello, my little one, I'm happy to have you back with us." He feels first for his pulse and nods when he feels it, still slightly weaker then he'd like it to be, but its steadily rising. Zaveriel stares at him with wide eyes, watching him work, as he checks the bandage around his wrist, to make sure the bleeding had stopped.

"He's awake, but he's going to be pretty out of it for a while to come, his mind should start to clear as his blood replenishes. The potion in the IV is working rather well, it shouldn't be too long before he can talk again," he speaks for the benefit of the others. "He's still in slight shock, that's why his eyes are so wide, I have no doubts he'll return to sleep in a few minutes." He smiles down at the young angel again, rubbing his pale cheek with his index finger. "We'll continue to monitor him, the progress from here should run smoother and quicker, take your shifts with him as usual, I'll continue to have others cover your duties for you."

True to his word, by the time he leaves them to return to what he had been doing previously, Zaverial has fallen asleep again, this time they know he's with them though, his weak grip on their Captain's hand maintains itself even in his slumber.

They take another three days for him to start really moving, his fingers squeeze his with more strength, and then he says his first word.

"…Ori….." He looks up at the call of his name, Zaves is staring at him, his eyes aren't nearly as wide as they were when he first woke up. "..Ori…"

"That's right, hummingbird." He kisses his knuckles again. "I'm here, I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere."

"..Sorry…"

"No, no," he reaches out to brush those wild curls back. "Don't apologize. We'll get through this. I'll be with you, every step of the way, don't apologize."

"…Mad?.."

He shakes his head firmly, the Virtue wants it to be very clear, and he kisses those knuckles again. "No, no, I'm not mad. I promise. None of us are mad. We're so happy to have you back. We would never be mad. Never."

"..Hug?..."

"Of course," Oren scoots closer, leaning over the younger angel, and tenderly curls him up against his chest. "Of course, you can have a hug." Fingers curl lightly into his tunic, and it takes him a moment to register the wetness soaking into his tunic, it a moment longer to register that the baby Virtue is crying softly. "It's okay, Zavey, it'll be okay." He kisses the side of his head. "Everything will be okay." He holds him until he falls back to sleep, before laying him back down, and wiping away the tears as he leans in to press a kiss to his forehead. "It' going to be just fine."

Three more days and he's finally able to sit up, he's able to talk again, without interruption or pause, and that's when they have their first session with Ak. He sits at his bed side, in a chair, leaning forward on his elbows, watching and waiting for the young angel to put his feelings into words, there's never any rush, he knows it's no easy task.

Oren sits with him in his bed, he leans back up against the pillows, and _he _leans back against the older Virtue's chest, sitting between his legs. Large hands rest in his lap, Oren's arms are wrapped around him loosely, offering comfort during this session without interrupting verbally.

"I lost them." He finally finds his strength to say it. "I lost them, no matter what I did, I lost them."

The worst part of being a healer was losing a patient. Akriel nods sympathetically, and in understanding, he remembers losing his first patient, they all do.

"Bloodloss." Zaveriel continues on, curling his fingers between his older brothers, Oren twines his through his in return. "I didn't give them enough, it kept bleeding but I didn't see it, I wasn't enough."

"So, you thought by draining yourself, your own would be available the next time something like that happened?"

He nods. "I wanted to help. I didn't want it to happen again."

"Zaves," the mental specialist reaches out to curl his fingers around the younger angel's cheek comfortingly. "We've all lost people, it's one of the downfalls with our profession, we just learn from it and keep it from happening to another."

"That's what I was trying to do, Ak."

"I know," he rubs his thumb over his cheek lightly. "But we'd miss you terribly if you left us. We're all quite attached to you. When we lose someone, and it happens, we come _together_, take comfort in each other. It's not something you have to deal with on your own." He smiles at him gently. "That's what family is for, and that's what we are, we're a family. We're here to hold you up until you're strong enough to hold yourself up." Akriel glances up at his Captain for a moment, Oren nods, and looks up to meet the gazes of the others. "I tell you what we're going to do now, we're going to push this bed and the next together, we're all going to lay here together, and we'll tell you stories, just taking comfort in being together, and you'll fall asleep surrounded by your big brothers, and when you wake up again, we'll still be with you, you're never alone, alright?"

Zaves nods lightly, sniffling, and the mental specialist leans forward to press a kiss to his cheek.

Ephraim and Constantine appear at the other side of the bed next to him, on the right, and push it over to rest against the side of his bed, Zed leans over the foot of the bed, holding a vial out to him, indicating with a slight nod for him to drink it, and he does, and instantly the edge falls away. He's relieved, calm, and he rests his head back against the crook of Oren's shoulder. Oren scoots them over, to the center of the two beds meeting together, and rests back against the pillows again, as the others slide in around them. Akriel slides in on his left, rubbing his hand over his lower arm gently, comfortingly, Zed slides in on Akriel's other side, reaching around him to caress his cheek lightly in solidarity. Ephraim appears at his right side, brushing his curls back gingerly, leaning in to press a kiss to the side of his head. And Constantine slides in next to the empath, reaching around him to scratch his cheek lightly with his index finger, smiling at him softly, he returns the smile sleepily.

He takes comfort in being surrounded by his family, his big brothers are a warm solid barrier against the outside world, and he curls his and Oren's arms around himself a bit more.

Akriel looks between them all. "Who's telling the first story?"

Oren's voice rumbles from under his head. "I will."


	240. Oceans, Lakes, and Rivers

Anyone who knows the youngest Virtue, especially through his time as being a messenger, had to know that he had a penchant for falling into bodies of water while flying, especially if ambushed. It was a nasty habit they had yet to break him of, which is why, internally, Oren is scolding him as he carries them through the barrier. How he ended up in that lake is beyond him, he didn't get to witness it, but he's sure it was a great sight to witness for those who had.

Touching down just outside the doors of the Infirmary, he sets the dripping teenager down, taking him by the shoulders firmly. "You are to go upstairs, get cleaned up, into dry clothing, and get straight into bed."

"But, Ori," the young angel pushes against his chest, but he holds him firmly in place. "I'm _fine_."

"It wasn't up for debate, mister," he turns him around and smacks him firmly on the rump. "Go."

Zavriel jumps forward, glaring at him from over his shoulder as he rubs at his bottom, grumbling to himself something that he can't quite make out, as he makes his way through the crowded Infirmary for the stairs that lead up to the Loft.

Akriel comes to stand at his side, watching the little sprite disappear in the crowd, and turns to eye him critically. "Was he wet?"

"Soaked to the bone."

"What?"

"He fell into a lake."

_"How?"_

He throws his hands up. "Hell if I know, all I did was leave him for five minutes, _five minutes_, and when I come back he's dragging himself out of a lake."

"Well," Akriel shakes his head. "Better start preparing for a cold now, then."

"My thoughts exactly."

Zaves is a cuddler when he's sick, and they all know it, this causes the mental specialist to turn a smile over on his brother. "Are you ready for the cuddles."

"I'm _always _ready for cuddles."

…

He denied the fact that he was going to get sick for two whole days, and on the morning of the third, Oren is woken from his peaceful slumber by the sound of a soft cough and a hand shaking his shoulder lightly. He blinks awake, taking in just who stands beside him, and already knows where this is going.

"Not feeling well, Zavey?" The youth shakes his head, rubbing his nose with the back of his sleeve, and he sighs, nodding as he lifts the edge of his blankets up. "Climb in."

They still have a few more hours before the have to wake up for the day.

Zaveriel cuddles close, curling his fingers into the front of his tunic, he settles down against his chest for a bit more sleep. Curling the blankets around them firmly, he curls his arms around the little Virtue, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

They wake up three hours later, he leaves the youngster sitting on the edge of his bed as he riffles through his wardrobe, pulling out a long sleeve tunic and an extra blanket. "Here," he hands the little Virtue his tunic. "Put this on." Zaveriel slips it over his head, curling his fingers in the extra long sleeves, and stands when he motions for him to stand. Curling the blanket around his shoulders, he guides him around, towards the door, and then down the hall.

Akriel and Ephraim had spotted them just a while after Zaves had joined him, so they knew, and no doubt they had informed the others.

"Ori, my belly hurts."

He kisses him on the side of the head as they take the steps down slowly. "I know it does, Zavey, we'll get you situated in bed and give you something for your belly."

They make their way to the bottom soon enough, and there is their bed, all made, with extra pillows and extra blankets, not just to fight off the cool air from the onset of autumn, but to keep off the shivers from his cold too. Zed and Akriel wait for them there, talking quietly between each other, and turn at the sound of their approach.

The two of them smile at them as they approach, and Akriel turns to face their youngest, pressing the back of his hand over his forehead. "Got a bit of a fever there, let's get you tucked in, nice and snug."

Zaves nods, stepping away from Oren's side, allowing Ak to guide him to the bed. He climbs in at the gesture from the mental specialist, and lays back against the pillows, smiling up at his older brother as he tucks the blankets up under his chin, rubbing his cheek with the back of his fingers. "You get some sleep, alright?" He nods, smiling up at Zed as the two of them trade places, the apothecary holds up a small vile. "My cure all for little colds." He uncaps the vial and holds it out to him, over his lips, and Zaveriel drinks it in one gulp, making a particular face at the taste, Zed chuckles lightly. "I'm still working on the taste."

They both leave him and Oren steps back up to his side, he makes a slightly whining sound, and his older brother smiles. "I know you want cuddles, let me check in with my healers really quick, and I'll come back and give you some cuddles."

He nods, he knows Oren will come back if he says he will, and watches his older brother leave him for his section, checking in with the healer he placed in charge over his domain. He signs a few charts, some are getting discharged, and pats the healer on the shoulder, before turning back around.

Zaveriel is thankful that they pushed two beds together, when Oren returns, he scoots over slightly to let him climb in under the blankets with him. Once he's in a comfortable position, he cuddles close, tucking himself under his older brothers arm and pressing up against his side.


	241. Puppy's First Birthday

He decided, a few days after they had taken in the small abandoned puppy, that they would have a celebration for him, something to make it official, he was a member of their family. He didn't know when the puppy's birthday was, he doubted that the puppy knew himself, and everyone needed to have a birthday to celebrate. So, he made up the date, and planned a surprise of a life time.

That poor little fluff ball needed all the love and affection he could get. He needed to be shown that a true family doesn't abandon you when it's inconvenient to have you around. Era had been down with the idea at first mention, before returning to playing with his new puppy companion, so that left him with the set up while Era played as the distraction.

Telling his brothers had been easy, they hadn't met the little puppy yet, but he knew they'd love him.

His birthday was set for the sixteenth of July, and when he woke that morning, he smiled down at the puppy stretched out on his chest, his beloved stuffed bear curled under his front legs, and he reaches up softly to scratch a finger down the back of his head. It was a Sunday, a free day, and they'd slept in well past ten that morning.

Bright blue eyes blink open, and he smiles again, reaching his finger around to scratch behind one of those tiny ears. "Good morning, puppy."

The little thing gives a big yawn, licking at the side of his bears head lightly. _'Good morning, Nis.'_

"Puppy, you've been here nearly a week and I still haven't gotten your name."

The dalmatian puppy rolls over onto it's belly. _'My old family called me Milo.'_

"I see, do you want to keep the name they gave you, or start over with a new one?"

'_I can have a new name?'_

He nods lightly, poking the puppy on the tip of the nose. "Of course, you can."

The puppy is silent for a long moment, licking at his left front paw, nipping at the man's finger when he pokes him on the nose again. _'I want a new name. From my new family.'_

"Alright," he hums as he thinks. "What about _'Spot'_?"

'_I like that name! And, I'm covered in spots!'_

The Power chuckles lightly. "Yes, you are." He rubs his hand down the puppy's back. "How about some breakfast?" Spot barks brightly, rising to his feet, tailing wagging excitedly, and he laughs softly. "I thought you'd like that suggestion." He sits up slightly, lifting the puppy off his chest with his right hand, and his bear with his left, and nudges the larger hound snoring softly between his legs. Erathaol snorts softly, flipping over, blinking quickly at his sudden call to wakefulness. "Time for breakfast, Era." The large hound barks softly and climbs to his feet, stretching first, before he turns to hop off the bed. Era knows what today is. He climbs out of bed to follow the older hound of out of room and down for the dining area, where they're bowls sat. He sets the puppy down in front of his bowl, leaning his bear up beside it for him, easy access for when he finished breakfast, the newly proclaimed _'Spot' _took that bear everywhere.

He makes up Era's bowl first, chicken and bits, and then he moves to Spot's bowl, steak, medium rare, mixed with some gravy to keep it moist. "Steak for the special day."

He sets the bowl down, and Spot sniffs it, looking up at him curiously. _'Steak?' _He tilts his head. _'Special day?'_

"It's your birthday, Spot!" He squats, scratching at his head softly. "It's a special day!"

'_My birthday!' _The puppy bounces around, licking a piece of steak. _'My old family never let me have steak before!'_

"Well, you have a new family now, and we have steak on all special occasions."

He smiles as the puppy gobbles up his special breakfast, he cut the steak pieces small, easy for puppy mouths to enjoy. He fills a bowl of water for both of them and waits as they lap it down, then give themselves a small bath after a filling morning meal.

Nisroc smiles when both hounds look up at him, and he kneels, scooping the fed puppy up, and his bear, and stands. "Era, you go tell the other's we're done. We'll go take a quick bath and meet you all in the Lounge."

Era barks firmly and trots off, the others are all out, but they'll be back by the time their bath is finished.

Spot licks his snout and looks up at him, smacking his lips happily. _'Bath?'_

The Captain nods lightly. "A bath, we don't want to be dirty on our big day, do we?"

Spot barks brightly, pawing at his chest lightly, and he chuckles, scratching at the puppy's chest with a finger. He carries him down the hall for the washroom, where he has a bucket of warm water and soap already set up, a warm fluffy towel, and Spot's first present. He sets the puppy and his bear down beside the bucket, Spot sits for him when he asks, and he reaches around his neck for the clasp of his collar. "Let's get this old thing off." He undoes the latch and pulls it free, pulling it away from the puppy, he tosses it aside. "Alright, let's get you into the bath." He's thankful that he went without a tunic, sticking with just a vest, when the puppy kicks at the water and it splashes around. "Is it too warm?"

'_No, it's just right!'_

"Good." He sets about cleaning him up, it doesn't take long, he's a small puppy, and soon enough he's lifting him out of the water and setting him back on the table, rubbing him gently with the towel to dry him off, Spot licks his fingers as he dries his head gently. "Time for your first gift."

'_I am getting gifts!'_

"Of course, you are, what kind of birthday would it be without gifts?" He reaches for the small bowed box beside them and pulls the lid off, reaching in, he pulls out a new collar. Leather, dark leather, with two silver tags. Spot sniffs the new collar lightly, one of his ears flopping over as he turns to look up at the man, Nisroc smiles down at him. "This is your new collar. From your new family." He shows him one tag. "This is your name." And then the other. "And this is your family's emblem. You belong here. We are your home now."

'_New family!' _The puppy sits, batting at one of his hands, indicating that he wants him to put the new collar on. Nisroc smiles, slipping the loose end out, he curls the collar around the puppy's neck and links it together. _'I love it!'_

'I'm happy, it's a special collar, there's magic ingrained in the leather." Spot tilts his head, so he continues. "Era is an angel hound, he has a dog form, he prefers his dog form, but he also has a humanoid form." He taps the collar lightly. "I ingrained a bit of my power into the leather when I fashioned the collar, it'll help you change forms, to keep up with Era."

'_I can be a boy too?' _Spot huffs and tilts his head to the side. _'But I am a puppy.'_

"You can be both," he scratches at the puppy's ear lightly. "In your mind, picture yourself as a boy, what you would look like, focus on yourself being a boy, and will it to happen."

Spot nods, huffing softly, he closes his eyes as though to focus just as he was told. He almost gives up, when he warms suddenly, he feels different, lighter, and then the world's changed. Tentatively he opens an eye, peering up at the man, and he feels something in him break when he doesn't feel any different then how he usually feels. He failed. Nis had made him this special collar and he failed.

"Spot, you didn't fail." Large gentle hands curl around his wrists and pull his arms out, and he stares at his _hands_, little tiny _fingers_. He slowly flexes his fingers, turning his hands over in the man's large ones, flexing his fingers again. "You did it! You didn't fail." He looks down even further to his _feet_, he smiles as he wiggles his _toes, _and he pulls his hands out of Nis's to feel himself. He presses his hands over his head and frowns. "But I did." He blinks, was that him, is that what he sounds like, he sounds really little. "I still have puppy ears."

"You do," the man chuckles, scratching at one of his ears. "But it's cute. Era had the same problem when he changed for the first time, it was usually the ears, but sometimes he still had a tail too." He reaches back into the box and pulls out a pair of shorts, knee high trousers, small enough for a fledgling. "Let's put you into these and then we can join the others for the party."

"A party?"

"A birthday party, of course."

Nis helps him into the pants, he's still getting used to having two legs, he's only had them for maybe two minutes. "Can I walk?"

"How about I carry out," he's handed his bear, and he hugs it to his side, as he's lifted off the table and settled onto the man's hip. "Walking on two legs for the first time isn't going to be very easy. We'll learn that another day, today is for fun and enjoyment, I'll carry you around for today."

He carries him out of the washroom and back down the hall, he can hear talking from where they are, the others, he hasn't met the others yet, and he ducks down into Nis's shoulder out of shyness. Nis bounces him gently and he giggles. "It's alright, we're all gentle giants, I've told the about you and they've been dying to meet you."

They step out into the open and the talking comes to a silence, the only one he recognizes is Era, he's changed, he's a boy too, older then him, obviously, he recognizes him from his eyes. And the collar around his neck. The ears on his head make him smile, feeling less bad about still having his, and he waves lightly. Era smiles back and waves in return.

"Nis, you didn't say he was this _adorable_." A man steps forward, a dark toned man with blue eyes, and he shies downwards when he reaches up towards his head. He hears Era growl and someone mutter something, and then it happens, a finger scratches behind his left ear, and he preens, leaning into the touch. "Aren't you a cutie. What's your name?"

"S—Spot."

"I can't. This, this is too much." He winks at his older brother before returning a smile to the new fledgling pup. "Happy birthday, welcome to the family, I'm Titus, but you can call me Tus."

"He has the perfect belly for tickles, I love me some chubby fledgling bellies." Another man steps forward, elbowing the other one away, tan skinned and dark curls up in a bun on the back of his head, his purple eyes sparkle down at him as he reaches out to poke him in the belly, making him giggle softly. "Hello, little guy, I'm Puriel, you can call me Puri."

Nisroc chuckles lightly and turns to the side slightly. "Oh, no, this chubby little fledgling belly is all mine."

"Won't you share with your adoring little baby brother?"

Nis turns them back around again and reaches out to poke Puri on the forehead, pushing him back slightly. "Don't forget who _your _belly belongs to, my _'adoring little baby brother'._"

"I wanna see the new puppy too!" Another man bounces forward, younger then the other two, shorter then them, but still massively tall too. Bright red curls bounce with him, and bright green eyes shine as they approach, pulling another along with them, this one seems calmer, dark brown curls hanging down the back of his neck, his smile is comforting. "Oh, my, God. He's adorable!" He turns to look at Era from over his shoulder. "He's cuter then you were Era."

"Shut up, Hani."

The one with the brown curls smiles, reaching out to rub a finger over his cheek. "Hello, little one, I'm Hasmal, and this one is Haniel, you can call us Mal and Hani. We're happy to have you as a part of our family."

"What he said!" The one with the red curls turns back to him, reaching out to poke him on the nose. "You're adorable! You're the baby of the family and we're going to spoil you rotten!"

"Hani, calm down, you're excitement is too much." Another man pushes him aside slightly, with grey eyes and dirty blonde hair. "I'm Abraxos, little one, you can call me Abe." He leans in, pecking him on the cheek. "Welcome home, and happy birthday."

Nisroc smiles at them all, bouncing him on his arm lightly, and he turns back around to look up at him. "Do you want cake first, or gifts?"

He stares at him for a moment, his head tilting to the side, one of his ears flopping over. Hani squeals softly at the cuteness of it. "I get _both_?"

"Well, of course, you can't have a birthday without cake and presents."

Spot smiles brightly, he likes this new family, they're so much nicer to him then his old family was. He hasn't been yelled at for as long as he's been here. "Presents, first."

"Alright, presents it is." They all part as he steps forward, making his way to the big couch is, the pile of presents resting next to it. They sit down and the others gather around, he sits in Nis's lap and Era sits at his feet, between him and the presents. "We've got a few for you."

"Mine first." Era announces before anyone can claim the first position and passes him a bag. Spot smiles as he pulls the tissue paper out, setting it aside lightly, he reaches into the bag and pulls out a different pair of shorts. Nis folds them back up and sets them down on their other side, and he reaches back into the bag, pulling out a long rope toy, and he smiles at it, shaking it around slightly, he can't wait to play with it. He reaches back in and pulls out another object, one he's not familiar with, and he looks up at Nis for help. "It's a story book. I'll read it to you before bed." He sets it aside with the shorts and rope toy.

"Do me next! Do me next!" Hani bounces in his seat, and he giggles softly, he likes Hani. "Era, do mine!"

"Okay, okay, geesh." He passes him another bag, and he pulls the paper out and reaches inside, pulling out a pair of shoes, four in total. Nis hums. "Snow shoes for winter." And sets them aside. He pulls out more story books, three in total, and a big chew bone. He already starting to amass a pile of new goodies.

He gets a bag of treats, three balls, and a plush bed from Puri.

A squeaky duck, four story books, and another pair of shorts from Mal.

Two balls, another bone, and stuffed penguin from Abe.

Three story books, a stuffed duck, and more treats from Tus.

It's all so much for the puppy boy, and his eyes tear up, reaching up to rub his right eye with a small fist, he lets out a small cry, and they all jump forward.

"Hey, no!"

"Don't cry!"

"What's wrong?"

"You're okay, Spot!"

Era tugs on his foot lightly. "What's wrong, puppy?"

He rubs at his eyes with his fists and leans back into Nis's chest, hiding behind his arms slightly. "I…I love my new family!"


	242. Taking Care Of Sass

Abner knows he's gone too far when he freezes, the muscles in his back tense, he comes to a grinding halt. His arm lowers from it's raised position, as he was reaching for a hanger to hang another one of Gadreel's tunic up in the wardrobe, and he turns to look at him.

Thaddeus with his eyes narrowed like that is never a good Thaddeus. That means a storm is about to come. He points at him firmly. "I never forget a prisoner, I remember you well, it was the belly, sides, and armpits with you. Remember the good old days?" He advances slowly, and Abner watches in horror as the gap between them closes, willing his feet to move, but they remain planted to the spot. "Remember how I'd make you _scream _with laughter?" He's close enough that he snags him by the front of the tunic and drags him forward. "Let's see if I still can."

"Waitwaitwait!" He tries to run interference, tugging desperately at the older angel's wrist, tugging frantically at his fingers. "Okay, okay, I went too far! I can see that! I'm sorry! It won't happen again!"

Thaddeus snags on of his belts out of his and Gadreel's wardrobe and tugs him towards their king-sized bed. "I'm going to flutter my fingers all over those armpits and give that belly as many berries as I can."

"Taddy, Taddy, come on! One time! I went too far _one_ time!" He digs his heels into the carpet under him, it slides with him as he's dragged across the room towards the bed, it offers little to no resistance and he curses it for that. "You're overreacting! Completely overreacting!"

"Oh, you want me to _overreact?" _He's tugged around, pulled forward, upwards to stand on his tippy toes, as he stares the Warden in the eyes, his eyes wide, Thaddy's eyes firm. "I'll overreact, then." And he shoves him backwards. His knees hit the edge of the bed and he falls over, tumbling back, waving his arms as he falls backwards, bouncing on the mattress.

He stares up at his older brother, willing himself to move, but he just lays there, like a putty waiting to be molded by the older angel's hands, and he silently curses himself for his inability to get his body to work with his mind on the need to escape.

Thaddy looks down at him inquisitively, like a hunter eyeing its prey, and rubs his hands together. "We need to get you out of that tunic, I like a bare canvas, as I'm sure you remember."

He does remember. "You have to force it off me!"

"I can do that, don't worry."

"You don't have your guards to help you!"

"Oh, I don't _need _my guards to do anything _for _me." He tosses the belt to rest on the side of the bed and leans forward, digging his fingers into the meat of the younger angel's thighs, Abner shrieks and throws his hands over his head, trying to tug himself away, and the Warden jumps at the chance, yanking his tunic up over his head before he can change positions. "See, I can do it perfectly fine on my own."

"No! _No!_ Not fair!"

"You _annoying _me all afternoon isn't fair, either." He reaches for the belt and leans over him, securing his wrists in his hand, he loops the belt around his wrists and tightens it, enough that his hands won't slip free, but not enough that it hurts him, he doesn't want to cause actual pain. "Perfect."

"What—What if I catch a cold?" Now he's just grasping at straws and they both know it, judging by the glance the older angel gives him.

The Warden throws his hand out, waving his fingers at the soft burning of the logs in the fire place, and they spring to life, a blaze billowing up, spreading warmth around them immediately. "You were saying."

Abner bites his lip, because he has nothing more to say, and they both know it.

Thaddeus smiles down at him, straddling his waist, and leans forward, looping his bound wrists around his neck, he sits up, repositioning himself, taking the younger angel with him as he does. He rests back against the pillows, his 'prisoner' stretched out between his legs, resting against his chest, arms wound around his neck securely, he's well and truly trapped against him.

"There we go, perfect position, baby brother." He flutters his fingers down the younger angel's bare sides, Abner shrieks and squirms, pressing his face into the side of his neck, shrieking with laughter as his fingers dance up and down his sides relentlessly. "That's right, remember what happens when you sass me?" He reaches up with his right hand and wiggles his fingers into the exposed armpit lightly, Abner squeals and kicks, tugging at his arms desperately, but they don't budge, they're stuck. "This is what you get."

"Thahahahahahhaaddyyyyy! Ahaahahahahahhhahahahahaha! Aahahhaha hahahahhahaha! I'm sohohohorrryyyyy! Aahahahhahahahhahaa! Nohohhhoohoohoo mohhohohohohore!"

"Oh, you better get comfortable," he returns to skittering his fingers up and down his sides, Abner shrieks and squeals, shimmying from side to side, trying to get away from his fingers, but finds himself trapped on both sides. "I'm just getting started."

The young Sentry presses his face to the Warden's neck, squealing with laughter as he kicks his legs out and rocks from side to side, and he only chuckles down at him. "Look at you, we've barely just begun and you're already losing it." He flits his fingers back up to his armpits, both sides this time, and Abner screams softly, throwing his head back as he shrieks and screams with laughter before his head falls back against the side of his neck. "_This _is why I'm Heaven's best torturer. I barely have to touch you," he wiggles his index fingers into both hollows and the younger angel howls with laughter. "And you break."

He carries on for a few more moments before pulling away, letting the youth catch his breath, and he taps his fingers over his lower back gently. "I didn't kill you right?" He chuckles softly, looking down at him, just catching a glimpse of a reddened face as he presses it back to the side of his neck. "You're chest is heaving might fast there."

"Okay," he starts up again, skittering his fingers up and down his sides once more, and the younger angel screams at the suddenness of it, shrieking with laughter as his squirming and shimmying from side to side starts anew. "Did you miss this as much as I did?" He reaches up to scratch a finger over the side of his neck lightly. "You were one of my favorites, just like our dearest little Gaddy was, I enjoyed torturing you, because you were always so _sassy_."

"Ahahahhahahahahaha hahahahahahahahaahahahhahahaha! Thahahahhahahahaddyyyyy! Hahahahahhaa aahahahahahahahaa! Stohoohoohohohohhop! Nohohohohoho mohohohohore! Ahahahahahhahahhaa ahahahahahhahahaha! I'm sohohohhohoorryyyyy!"

"Are you though?" His fingers return to his armpits and wreak havoc, Abner screams and howls with laughter, shaking his head, pressing his face deeper into the side of his neck, kicking his legs desperately. "Are you really sorry for sassing me?"

"Aahahahahahhaha ahahahahahahahhaa! Yehehheheheheheesssss! YES! Aahahahahahaa hahahahahhaaha!"

"Are you going to sass me again?"

Abner bites his lip and nods frantically. "Yehehehehehehes!"

He laughs softly. "I know you will, it's okay, I'd be worried if you didn't." He stops his attack again and scratches at his back lightly, giving him time to calm down, as he scratches up around his shoulders. Gadreel and Abner were one in the same in that respect. Both liked it when you scratched their backs and shoulders. "I forgive you."

"Thahahhaanks."

Thaddeus smiles, rubbing a hand down the back of his head, and reaches back for the belt tied around his wrists, freeing the latch, he pulls the belt loose and off from around his wrists. Abner lowers his arms limply, letting them rest over his shoulders, and takes a deep calming breath. "Will you keep scratching my back, Taddy?"

"Sure, little ladybug." He renews his scratching. "Sure."


	243. The Cure For Shyness

Tzadkiel was new here, okay, he was still learning his way around, he still got lost in the twists and turns that made up the Prison, he got lost but he found his way back eventually, he still forgot his keys every other day and had to borrow Sabaoth's when it was time to feed the row of cells he was in charge of. He was still meeting the other guards, he'd smile and shake their hands politely, but he'd bite his tongue, too shy to say anything, he didn't want to embarrass himself.

He also avoided his boss. He'd squeak and turn in the other direction when he saw him coming, what was he supposed to say to the legendary man, he ran the place, he brought this place life, it lived and breathed around him and what he did. He didn't want to make a bad first impression, what if he found that he didn't like Tzadkiel, what if he asked Tus to replace him with someone else, he wasn't incompetent, he just wasn't used to having to carry around keys yet, okay, he was still working on it.

"I thought I'd find you here." He looks up at the sound of the voice, Sabaoth smiles at him from the entrance to the breakroom, the midway point between the two cell blocks. "I was looking for you."

"I'm sorry, sir—Sabaoth—Saba—sir." He jumps to his feet, trying for a confident smile, and Sabaoth chuckles at him when he doesn't quite manage it. His slip up is also somewhat amusing too.

"You can call me _'Saba'_, just _'Saba'_." He gestures over his shoulder, down that hall, at the end, is the torture chamber, the entrance to the Warden's Quarters, and the Warden's office, why was he gesturing in that direction. "Thaddy wants to see you."

He feels something heavy settle in the pit of his stomach. "He does?"

Saba nods lightly. "He does. He's waiting in his office."

Gulping, he nods, stepping around the older guard as he steps aside, and walks passed the other three, hearing Saba take his spot back behind Sora, the stool creaks softly as he its on it, he makes his way down the hall slowly and stops just outside the Warden's office.

Hesitantly, he raises his fist, rapping his knuckles against the door lightly.

Maybe if he's quiet enough he'll think he's not there and he can go back to avoiding the man that has requested an audience with him.

But a voice calls from within, granting him entrance, and he swallows thickly as he reaches for the door handle and twists it open. His back is facing him, as he rummages through the closet across from him, on the far wall, but his voice drifts over clearly.

"Hi, welcome, take a seat." He points over his shoulder to the chairs before his desk. "I'll be with you in just a minute."

"Yes, Sir." He gingerly crosses into the office, closing the door behind him, and takes occupancy in one of the empty chairs before the Warden's desk. The man pauses a moment. "Don't call me that." He stares at the back of his head, as he returns to searching for something, horror settling in his eyes that he had just insulted him without knowing how to avoid doing it. "Okay, no, that was too harsh, you don't have to call me that, I'm not that formal. Just call me _'Thaddy' _or _'Thadd'_. Everyone else does."

Tzadkiel nods lightly. "Yes, Sir—Thaddeus—Thaddy—Sir."

There's a brief pause and the Warden snorts loudly and returns to his searching. "Okay. I'm not sure what that was. You spoke to fast. Just _'Thaddy' _is fine." He finally finds what he had been searching for. "Ah, here it is!" He pulls an old leather jacket out of the closet and shakes it out a bit, his gaze settling on something beside him, something he can't see from where he sits. "Here, Zoph, you can wear this while you're out with papi, make sure to tell him you need a jacket of your own. And, yes, you can keep this one too." He jumps slightly when a boy appears, hopping up to his feet, he steps forward into the jacket as it's held open for him. "Have fun." Thaddeus—Thaddy guides him across his office, a puppy at the boy's side, and out the door.

It clicks behind him and he grows stiff.

"You've been avoiding me." He can hear him coming closer by his footsteps. "Why are you avoiding me?"

"I—I'm not avoiding you, Sir!"

"I _thought _I told you to call me _'Thaddy'_." Fingers brush through his curls, brushing them back, over his shoulders, fingers stroke gently over the side of his neck. "I don't _like _being called _'Sir'_."

"I'm sorry, S—Thaddy!"

"That's much better!" A finger scratches behind his left ear, and he smiles, scrunching his shoulder up slightly. "Now, why have you been avoiding me?"

"I just—I just—I—"

"You're just shy, aren't you?" He hears amusement in the Warden's tone. "That's nothing to be ashamed of. I _love _the shy ones."

A finger scratches under his other ear, and he breaths a soft giggle, scrunching up that shoulder too, making an apt impersonation of a tortoise.

"You're scrunching up pretty high there." He scratches his fingers down around the side of his neck, behind his shoulders, and up under his chin, and Tzadkiel giggles softly, twisting his head this way and that, leaning back to try and pull away from the slow torturous fingers. "One might say that your neck is a wee bit ticklish."

"J—Just a hehehe little bit."

"Just a _little _bit?" He feels the fingers of the right hand pull away, they curl over his shoulder, the fingers of his left-hand curl around the side of his head as he pulls them apart. "Let's see just how ticklish this little neck is."

Tzadkiel's eyes widen when something scratchy rubs over the exposed side of his neck, and he realizes it's a beard, it feels the same way it does when Saba buries his face in the side of his neck and—"Eieiieaiaiahahahahahahhaha ahahahahahhahahaa!" Does that.

"Wow," the words are spoken against his neck and it makes him shriek softly. "I think that was just a bit more then _'a little bit' _ticklish."

"You just caught me by su—eeiaiaiaiahaahahahhahaha ahahahahahhaha nohohhohohoo eeieiaiaaiahahahahaahha hahahahahahhaha!"

"Welcome to my Prison, Tzad, yes, I know your name is Tzadkiel, Tzad, I'm Thaddy, the Warden, your boss, and this is what I do to my shy guards." He presses a bit closer, preparing for another attack. "We have to break that ice."


	244. The No Good Dirty Rotten Terrible Day

He knew it wasn't going to be a good day right from the beginning. He woke up in pain, his whole body aching, bad weather was coming in over them, instead of bright and sunny, the sky was a rolling mass of gray, storm clouds gathering above them and waiting for the perfect moment to open up over top of them.

He skipped breakfast, he didn't feel much like eating, much to the concern of those around him, and followed Tus out to the training field, they'd continue on as normal until lightning flashed across the sky, and he'd help the gentle Power with his teaching until it did, as he usually did. Nearly two hours into training, the sky finally filled with light, opening up over them in the form of a downpour, and his favorite tunic was covered in mud as the trainees threw their training weapons in his arms as they ran for the shelter of the barracks. As he himself turned tail to return to the dry safety of the Pavilion, he tripped over a discarded sword, and fell into a large forming muddy puddle, he _knew _this wasn't going to be a good day. He picked himself up though, continuing on for shelter, and bit his lip as he heard whispers about him and his clumsiness, it wasn't fault, just a byproduct of what he'd been through, besides, he'd tripped over a sword, something one of _them _had left behind.

So he was dripping and cold and soaking wet, his favorite tunic soaked and muddy, with his feelings hurt by the whispers the others thought he couldn't hear, and he just stopped. He just quit. He wants to clean up, change into something dry and clean, something warmer, and climb back into his bed and stay there until this day ended and the next one started.

A few cursed at him softly as they ran into him from his sudden stop, and he sucked in a deep shaky breath, dropped the swords to the ground, and turned to run away. He ran passed Tus, and Nis, and the others, turning up the stairs that led to their living quarters above, his eyes stinging with tears that he refused to allow to fall until he was shut away in his room where no one could see.

Today was a _horrible _day and he was ready for it to be over.

He runs through the Lounge, passed the two sitting at the table talking, and runs all the way down to his room, where he slams the door and comes to stand in the center of his room. That's where it all breaks down, the tears cascade over, and he just collapses, his knees giving out as he sobs, falling back to sit on his bottom like a fledgling having an episode of a fit. He rubs the mud out of his eyes, off his hands, and sobs deeply, burying his face in his hands.

Someone knocks on his door. "Grasshopper?" He hears the locking mechanism click open. "Grasshopper, what's wrong?" Gentle fingers curl around his hands and pull them away from his face, and he looks up with teary puffy eyes to meet those of his big brother, Thaddy smiles at him softly. "What happened, grasshopper, you're all muddy."

"T-Today has b-been _horrible!_" He wails softly. "M-My favorite tunic is r—ruined and I—I tripped into a m-mud puddle and t-they were all saying s-so many mean things a-about me and-and I just w-want it to be _over_!"

"Oh, grasshopper, it most certainly looks like it's been a rough day for you."

"Let's get you cleaned up." Abner appears behind the Warden, carrying a basin of water and a sponge, a towel draped over his arm. "That always makes me feel better."

Thaddeus nods in agreement, helping him pull his soaked and soiled tunic over his head. "Your favorite tunic will be alright, we'll get it washed nice and clean, and it'll be as good as new." Thankfully, with his tunic and long trousers and boots, most of his body is clear of mud, it's primarily his hair and face and neck. The Warden helps him up, out of his trousers, and sets him to sit on the edge of his bed.

The angel behind him passes him a rag to wipe away as much mud as he can, before they trade places, Gadreel hiccups softly as his older brother cleans him up, washing away the mud from his face and hair, leaving him clean and refreshed. Thaddy returns as Abner leaves for a moment, and helps him into one of his tunics, it's bigger, it's one of Thaddys, and he rubs the ends of the sleeves balled into his fists over his eyes as more tears gather.

"Hey, no more tears, it's okay." Strong warm hands curl around his cheeks, thumbs rubbing away the tears just as they begin to fall, and he's forced to look up at the older angel. "You just let go, let us take care of everything, you've had enough today."

He nods, letting his older brother guide him around against his pillows, laying him back. He pulls the covers up around him, and kicks his boots off, crossing around to the other side of the bed, he slides in beside him, pulling him close against his side, and he scratches lightly at his shoulders.

"Here we go, lets have some fruit." Abner returns again, with a bowl of sliced fruit, and sits on the edge of the bed. "Mango, your favorite, you missed breakfast this morning. A full belly will help you feel better too. Open up," he holds out a piece of fruit for him to take, and he plops it in his mouth when he opens up, and nods when he slowly chews the fruit and swallows, opening his mouth for another piece. He's finished the bowl before he knows it, and he's right, his belly being full does help him feel just a bit better. "Now, let's take a nap before supper time." He kicks off his boots as well and climbs in on his free side. "And, you _are _eating supper." Thaddy nods on his other side. "Not optionable."

"Hey, turn over on your tummy." Abner scratches at his cheek lightly. "And, we'll scratch your shoulders, that always makes you feel better."

Thaddy helps him turn around. "Makes you very sleepy too."

He settles over top of them, they slide together when he's up, and he settles over their legs, his arms spread out, his cheek pressing against the top of Thaddy's left thigh, and he sighs in comfort when he feels them scratching around his shoulders. They're right, it does make him feel better, he yawns slightly, and it makes him sleepy.

He's asleep in a little over three minutes, resting peacefully with his two big brothers to watch over him, and they strike up their conversation where they had left it off when Gadreel had come running passed them to his room.

That's when Tus comes around the corner, and he smiles at the sight of them, knowing that they would have caught up to the little Sentry when he ran passed them. "Is he okay?"

Abner continues scratching at his shoulders, and they both look up at him, Thaddy rubs his free hand through the hair on the side of the sleeping Sentry's head. "It's been a bad day."

The Power frowns. "Aww, is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, we have him."

His smile returns, honestly, they're both so enamored with the little angel between them. "Alright, I'll come get you when suppers ready."

"Thanks, Tus."

"Thank you."

He nods, leaving them then, to clean up and do a few things of his own, and they return to their conversation, still scratching at the young Sentry's shoulders.

A good few hours pass by, and their little companion sleeps through the entire time, a rough day will do that to you, and sleeping in good company will keep you out. Tus pokes his head around the corner to tell them that supper is done, and they nod, looking down to their sleeping companion.

Thaddeus smiles slightly and reaches out to poke him in the side, wiggling his finger a bit, the younger angel squirms slightly and bites out a sleepy giggle. "Time to wake up, little grasshopper."

Gadreel squirms away from his wiggling finger, leaning more so over onto Abner, and giggles softly when the finger follows. "Just a little bit longer."

Abner chuckles softly, reaching down to wiggle his finger into the little Sentry's other side, Gadreel shrieks softly and wiggles from side to side under their gentle attack. "Nope, it's time to get up, supper is ready, and you, mister, are having supper."

"I thought we said it was nonnegotiable?"

"I think we did."

Gadreel shrieks and giggles as he pushes himself up, and smiles at his two older brothers, they always know how to cheer him up. "Stop! It tickles!"

"You think this tickles," Thaddy scratches a finger over the side of his neck and he scrunches up slightly. "If you don't get out of bed and get out to that table, we'll turn you over and have a go at that belly."

"Yea," Abner scratches a finger over the other side of his neck. "And, we'll make sure that _really _tickles."

His eyes widen at their threat, knowing that they're serious, he gulps softly. "Okay, I'll get up!" And he crawls over Abner's legs to climb out of bed, only for the back of his tunic to be tugged on, and he's yanked back, pulled back to lay over their laps, and they smile down at him deviously. "It's okay if we're a little late."


	245. Don't Mess With Brother Bear

He'd missed this place, it had only been a week, but he still missed it, but more importantly, he missed his little baby brother, his baby bear, he missed playing with him and doing puzzles and the tickles and cuddles, he missed it all. They were going to spend all weekend together.

Making his way down the hall, he spots them, his friends, his family, sitting quietly together at their stations. He smiles at them as he approaches, tilting his head slightly when Sora looks away and he notices the lack of toy cars he usually brings with him to entertain himself, behind him, Peliel, the only other one he'd trust to care for Sora in his absence, they'd been friends since training, climbing through the ranks together, smiles in return.

"Welcome back, Saba." His closest friend stands to greet him. "How was your trip?"

"Very uneventful." Sabaoth looks between his brothers and sister, smiling at them all, noticing the glare Os sends his friend almost immediately. "I missed you all dearly."

He curls his hand over the top of his baby brothers head, and frowns when he still doesn't look up at him, he turns his attention to his friend behind the little angel. "Did he behave?"

Peliel frowns at the little angel, shaking his head. "An absolute brat. Disobedient, disrespectful, someone needs to teach him some manners, how to be a proper guard."

Rahab stares at them, her mouth hanging open, and he takes note of Osmadiel's glare heating up. Instead of worrying about that, he looks down to the little angel under his hand, tilting his head back to force him to look up at him. "Sora, is this true?"

His little baby brother shakes his head frantically. "I was really good! I listened and didn't talk back and didn't get into any fights! I was really good, Saba! I promise!"

Nodding, he looks up to his friend, stepping closer, he pulls the little angels head forward into his stomach, Sora presses his ear to his belly and rests there. Peliel's expression fades from a glare, but he catches it, and tilts his head, scratching at the back of Sorath's head like he know he enjoys. The other guard stares up at him. "Are you really going to believe a word he says? Over me? We've known each other far longer then you've known him."

Sabaoth frowns lightly. "Sora can be many things, he can _do _many things, his temper can rival the best of us," he scratches lightly behind his puppy's ear. "But he knows better then to ever lie to me."

"Saba," Osmadiel cuts in before anything can be said in refute to his statement. "He's been bullying him all week. He melted his toy cars. He's been calling him names. He's made him _cry_. Sora's just about at the end of his rope."

He nods, looking back down to the little angel pressed against his belly, rubbing his hand down the back of his head. "Sora, is this all true?"

Sorath sniffs softly, nodding against his stomach, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a mass of melted metal. He pulls away slightly to hold it up to him, and Sabaoth takes it carefully, brushing his thumb over what had been a wheel.

"Oh, Sora, I'm so sorry." He tucks the small pile into his own pocket. "I'll get you new cars." He looks up to the one behind him. "Peliel, I specifically asked for you to watch over him because I trusted you. I trusted you to watch over him."

"He's not a _baby_!" The other tries to defend himself. "He should know _better _than to bring toys to work."

He narrows his eyes. "That doesn't give you the right to _melt _them." He pulls Sora back down against his belly, rubbing at the back of his head comfortingly. "If Thaddy is okay with him bringing a few toys to entertain himself while he sits here for the day, then he's allowed to bring them." He curls his hand around the back of the little angel's head. "And, he's my _baby brother, _thank you very much, you bully him, you bully _me_, and I don't take it sitting down." He sets his jaw firmly. "Furthermore, you know he can't fight back, so, if you're going to pick on someone, why don't you pick on someone who can fight back."

"I—I don't want to fight you."

"Then, you're a _coward_." He pulls the youngest guard to his feet, curling him close to his side, Sora curls around him, his fingers curling around the back of his belt. "Os, tell Thaddy we went home."

"Got it." Osmadiel pushes himself to his feet as the two of them turn the other way, leaving them in their place, making their way down the hall.

They both bid Aeshma a good afternoon as they may their way down the stairs from the Prison, Sorath looks up at his older brother, squinting lightly in the sunlight. "Did I do good, Saba?"

"You did very good, baby brother." He turns slightly, pressing a kiss to the side of his head, guiding him down the sparsely crowded Axis. "I'm sorry, Sora, I thought he was a friend."

"I'm sorry I mad you mad at your friend."

"Never be sorry, Sora." He squeezes him close to his side for a moment. "You mean so much more to me than any plain old friend could."

Sorath smiles up at him, and he returns the smile, pressing his cheek to the side of the younger angel's head. "Saba, what are we going to do now?"

"Well, Sora, I'm a bit tired from my travels, so I'm going to take a nap." He rubs at the youth's back softly. "You can play while I'm napping, or you can join me in my nap."

"I think I'll take a nap with you, Saba, I missed napping with you while you were away."

"I missed napping with you too, Sora."

Titus spots them immediately upon entering the training field, and he quirks an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. Sabaoth shakes his head firmly, indicating that he would share later, and presses another kiss to Sora's head, sharing that it had something to do with the Power's boy. Their captain nods firmly, turning back to his squadron as they finished up on the obstacle course.

Sorath, seeing their exchange, looks up at his older brother. "Is papa going to be mad?"

"Not at you, little pup, not at you."


	246. The Accusation Of Favoritism

"Okay, Israfel, talk to me, you have my attention." She looks over from her place on the table as he enters, reading the report in her file, and he looks up at her as he pushes the door closed behind him with his heel. "You're usually one my most behaved, I rarely have to fill out an incident report with your name on it, what happened?"

"You're picking favorites!"

He stares at her for a moment, down by her feet, and sighs, tossing her file on the table behind him, he crosses up around to stand at her side. "I am not. I treat everyone the same."

"Your favorite is Zazriel!" She throws at him. "You give him gifts and let him sleep with you!"

"Well, sure, I do give him stuffed animals." He nods lightly. "If you wanted one too you just had to ask me, I'd have gotten you one." He pokes her on the nose lightly. "And, as for him sleeping with me, if you want to come up, all you have to do is tell one of the guards, they'll let you up."

"You still like him better!" Israfel fires right back. "I heard you talking to Nis! You're gonna let him live with you when his sentence is up!"

"Well, I'm sorry you heard that, what were you doing snooping around outside my office when the door was closed?"

"That's not important!" She glares at him heatedly. "It proves you like him best!"

"It does not." He shakes his head. "If you wanted me to take you in as well, you could have just said something, I'd have taken it into consideration while finding you a new guardian."

She falls short at that admission. "You would have?"

"Well, sure," he shrugs lightly. "I have enough room to go around to include you." He pokes her on the nose again. "If you want me to take you in when your sentence ends, I'll take you in, that's no reason to cause such trouble." Thaddy gives her a stern look. "You didn't have to throw a tantrum in the washroom."

"You will?"

"Yea, sure, you can come stay with me."

Israfel averts her gaze. "Sorry for being bad, Thaddy."

"Hey," he pokes her on the nose again. "No harm, no foul. No one got hurt. That's all that matters." He reaches back for the feather he keeps in his bun. "If I am going to take you though, there's a few things I have to sign, it's _all _about the paperwork, and you know how much I _love _paperwork." He walks around to her head, looming over her, turning to her right armpit. "I have to sign my name in a few places, it's all semantics, so everyone knows who you belong to."

She shrieks with laughter when he flutters the fingers of his free hand over her right armpit, twisting her arm around as best as she can with it strapped down by the wrist, he smiles down at her when her eyes flit up to meet his. "Oh, are your little armpits ticklish?" She nods feverishly, giggling when he pulls his fingers away, she feels them resting just above. "This might be a bit harder then I thought then. I have to sign my name here, so everyone knows this little armpit belongs to me, be as still as you can, alright."

Israfel shakes her head, giggling when he leans closer, the quill of the feather pressing over the hollow of her armpit. When he starts tracing the first letter, she loses it, shrieking with laughter, she leans as far away from him as she can manage, shaking her head, as he traces each letter with slow and steady precision, it drives her crazy. "Aahahahahahhaha ahahahhahahahaha hahahahahahahhahaha! Eeiieieahahahahahahaha stohohhohohohohop! Aahahahhahaha hahahahahahaha!"

"And…a slash over the _'T'_." He crosses the quill over the sensitive flesh. "All done, signed and sealed. Now lets sign the other one." He moves over to her other armpit, and she heaves for a breath between bouts of giggles, watching his hand closely as she prepares for the assault. "Alright, _'T'… 'H'…. 'A'… 'D'…. 'D'….. 'E'…. 'U'… 'S'….._"

"Thahahahahhhaaaddyyyy! Aahahahahhahahaha hahahahahhaha! Nohohohoho mohohohohore! Aahahahahhahaha ahahahahaha!"

"Well, the letters are a bit shaky, but that'll have to do." He tucks his feather behind his ear and reaches out with both hands, fluttering his fingers over both armpits, and she screams softly, squealing with laughter at the sudden harsh assault. "There's a few things you'll need to know if you're going to be coming to stay with me."

Her fingers just barely manage to curl into his tunic, and she clutches on tight, shrieking and squealing with laughter.

"First, if you come to live with me, I get to do _this _as much as I want. I can get bored very easily and you all are my entertainment."

"Ahahahhahahha hahahahha ahahahahahahaha! Thahahahhahaaddyyy! Ahahahahhahahhaa! Stohohohohhop!"

"Second, there's no _tantrums_. If something seems unfair then just _tell _me. Don't get so worked up."

"Nohohhoho! Ahaahahahahhahahhaa hahahahahahaa! Nohohoho mohhhohohohore!"

He switches to wiggling his index fingers in the hollows of her armpits and she shrieks again, cackling brightly.

"Third, no fighting. Fighting is a one-way ticket over my knee, I don't like to do it, but I will."

"Aahahhheeieieaiaahahhahahaha ahahahahhahhahahaha! Thahahahhahahaaaddyyy!"

"Fifth, you are to be back inside and upstairs by sunset, any later, and you will be questioned, if the answer is not viable then you will go over my knee _and _be grounded to the upstairs the next day."

He pokes her on the nose, finally pulling away, and unstraps her wrists. Israfel sits up, curling her arms around herself, watching him cross around to her feet, unstrapping her ankles. He grabs her file while he's down there and tugs her down by the ankles, stepping between her legs slightly, he guides one of her legs around his waist. "Come on, latch on, make like a baby monkey and climb on."

She smiles, doing as she's told. "Where are we going?"

"Well, it's lights out, so we're going to bed."

Israfel rests her chin on his shoulder. "Can I sleep with you?"

"Of course, you can."


	247. Sick Days Happen

He knows something is off as soon as he joins them for the start of their shift, Rahab is quieter then usual, and Os is curled in on himself. Not that he usually isn't, he usually curls in on himself and goes right back to bed, right there, at his post, but this time it's different. Something is different about his position, his arms are curled around him just a bit too tightly, he's just a bit too tense.

Narrowing his eyes slightly, he places his hand on Sorath's head as he stands, facing the brother in question, he keeps his tone firm, if he this is what he thinks it is, he needs to start out firm to save off the fight that could incur.

"Os, let me see you."

"I'm fine."

"That's not what I asked, Osmadiel." He takes hold of his chin and pulls his head up, untangling him from himself, Os stares up at him with wide misty eyes. He hums, pressing the back of his fingers to one of his reddened cheeks, then to his forehead. "How long have you been feeling bad, Osmadiel?"

He hesitates for a moment, he knows first hand that his older brother doesn't like it when you don't take care of yourself when you are sick, he knows how his brother's temper works. He doesn't want to ignite his temper, Saba's hand was heavier then Nis's was, and he didn't want that.

Licking his lips, he responds meekly. "Almost three days."

"So you knew you were sick for _three days _and did nothing about it?" His brother's tone changes and he cringes internally, he knew that question was a trap, he knew it was, and he's fallen right into it. "No rest, no fluids, no down time, you just worked right through it?" He leans over him slightly and Osmadiel's eyes widen in time with his movements. "You let Sora _stay _with you while you felt sick?"

"It's fine, I don't know why you're getting so worked up," he pushes at him slightly. "It's nothing too bad."

"You have pox, Osmadiel!" He yanks his hand up to show him the small red dots littering his skin. "You let Sora sleep with you while you had the chickenpox!" The younger guard stares up at him in silence, he hadn't thought about that, he hadn't noticed the pox, honestly, he had thought it was just a head cold. "If you paid better attention, if you took better _care _of yourself, this wouldn't be coming as a surprise to you right now!" He lets go of his chin and instead curls his fingers around his ear, tugging him up to his feet firmly, and he yelps, rising quickly. "On your feet, Osmadiel." He's thankful that Sabaoth is taller then him, so his head is tilted upwards, instead of downwards.

The oldest Prison guard turns to the youngest, more gently then he had his little brother, reaching out to tap his cheek with a finger. "Sora, look at me, please." The youth looks up at him, his cheeks are slightly flushed, but he seems fine, never the less, he reaches out to feel for a fever anyway. There's a slight warmth radiating off his skin, more so then the usual warmth, and he hums softly. "Do you feel bad, Sora, or sleepy?"

Sorath stares up at him, nodding his head slightly, leaning into the hand curled around his cheek. "I'm a little sleepy, but I don't feel bad."

"Okay, Sora, come with me, we're going back home." He holds his free hand out for the youngster, and Sora takes it as he stands up, curling his free hand around the older angel's lower arm. "Can I play, Saba?"

"You can play for a little bit, Sora, and then you have to take a nap, alright?"

He nods happily. "Okay, Saba."

Their oldest brother nods, turning to look at the remaining member of their little family, Rahab smiles up at him and he returns her kind smile with one of his own. "Ra, I'm sorry to be leaving you today, make sure to tell Thaddy we went so he can assign others to join you here, alright?"

"Got it, Saba."

He guides them down the hall, one by the ear and the other by the hand, nodding at Temeluch and Aeshma, smiling softly in greeting as they pass, making their way back to the Pavilion quickly, the sooner he gets them resting, the sooner they can tackle this new obstacle. Titus and Nis are away for the day, but he's sure to let them know of this development when they returned, he didn't mind taking care of his baby brothers, but undoubtedly, when things got a bit more rough, Sora would want his papa over his big brother to make him feel better.

Stopping them between their rooms, he looks down at the youngest, squeezing his hand comfortingly. "Alright, Sora, you go get changed into your pajamas and get your dolphin, and bring a puzzle, we'll do a puzzle before you take your nap."

"Okay, Saba."

Sora parts from his side and closes his door behind him to change in privacy, and that means he turns to the brother who's ear he holds captive, and he tugs on it slightly, tugging him around slightly to look up at him. "Let's have a quick _chat_, Osmadiel."

His eyes widen slightly. "D—Do we have to, Saba?"

The older angel nods firmly. "I think we do."

He gulps softly as he's pulled into his older brothers room, whining quietly when he's guided up to the edge of the bed, and his older brother turns him around, to face him, and he reaches down for the waist of his trousers. He tugs them down slightly, just enough to reveal his bottom, red pox and all. Then he's turned around, his brother taking a seat on the edge of his bed, and in the next minute he's overturned, staring down at his brother's boots, as his big _firm _hand presses against his left cheek.

"Tell me why you're in this position, Osmadiel." When there's no reply forthcoming, he smacks the cheek under his hand sharply, and the younger angel yelps, kicking slightly. "_Tell _me _why _you're in this position, _Osmadiel." _He smacks the cheek again, just as sharply, as the thought occurs to him. "And, if I hear an _ounce _of sarcasm from you, I won't hesitate to get the brush."

"No! No brush! No sarcasm, I promise! No brush, please!" Osmadiel curls his arms around his brother's thigh and whimpers softly, he knows this is just the beginning, and if he irritates his brother even the slightest, he'll get the dreaded brush, and he doesn't want that, he really doesn't want that. "B-Because I was sick."

"You are not in this position because you are sick, and you know that," he smacks his cheek again and he cries out softly. "Try again. If you need help thinking it over, I _will _get the brush, _that_ always seems to get you thinking."

"No! No brush! Please! Okay! Okay!" He tries pulling himself forward slightly, as soft as a feather, because if his brother feels him trying to get away, he'll—"Alright, brush it is."

He shrieks, latching onto his brother's leg when he tries to lift him up. "NO! NO! I'm sorry! I won't do it again! Please not the brush! Please, Saba! Not the brush!"

"No, you know what happens when you try and pull yourself free." He pries his fingers off from around his ankle and lifts him in one swift movement, leaving him standing there petrified as he crosses the room quickly for the brush laying on top of the vanity. Then he's back in that position again, the brush smacking down on his bare butt cheeks, a steady rhythm, left, right, left, right, left, right. "If you try and do that again, you'll get more then just a few smacks, you've already added on more at the end, let's try again, _why are you in this position_?"

Osmadiel takes a deep shaky breath, tears staining his cheeks, not even into the real punishment and Saba's already got him crying like a fledgling, the only other person he doesn't want to find himself facing is Nis, and that's because he always uses his belt, and no one likes the belt. "B—Because I knew I was sick a-and ignored it!"

A sharp smack to his right cheek makes him jump and shriek softly. "What else?"

He wipes at his eyes with his fingers. "I-I might have g-gotten Sora sick t-too!"

"Good," he smacks his left cheek, then his right, and he cries out softly at the stinging sensation. "What happens when you neglect yourself like that?"

"I-I get a s-spanking!" His brother smacks his bottom again, a small cycle, heating up the reddening skin. "Oohoowww! S-Saba! Stohop! Ooowww!"

"That's right," his pleas go unheard as his brother peppers his bottom with more smacks. "This always happens, Osmadiel, every single time, why won't you just take care of yourself?"

"B-Big brother! Plehease! I'm sorry! Owwwaaah! Oooohhowhowhowwieeee! Sahaabbbaaaa!"

"If this happens again, I'm using a belt, that always seems to make you think twice."

He shakes his head frantically, tears streaming down his face. "Noohohohohooo! Nehever a-again! I-I promise!"

"Good." He lays out his extra swats and the younger angel sobs into his hands, scrambling to his feet when his older brother finally pulls away, tugging his trousers back up, he rubs at his bottom miserably. He brother stands, stepping around him to put the brush back, and then he curls his hands over his shoulders, and turns him around, pulling him into his chest. "There, there, it's alright." He rubs his back soothingly, and Osmadiel curls his fingers into his older brothers tunic, hanging onto him tightly, he doesn't feel good, and his bottom hurts, damn anyone who would make fun at him for wanting his big brother to hold him now. "It's alright, you're alright, big brother's got you."

"Saabbaaaaa!" He wails softly into his chest. "I don't feel gooood!"

"I know you don't baby brother, don't worry, big brother's going to take care of you, and when papa gets home, he'll take care of you too." He rubs at the back of his head gently. "Sshhh, you're alright, hush now, baby monkey."

He slowly settles down, turning slightly, he tucks himself under the older angel's chin, pressing his ear to his chest, letting the sound of his heart beat lull him into peace.

Sabaoth presses a kiss to the top of his head, he feels him do it. "Go get your pajamas on, and you can take a nap in big brother's bed, alright?"

He nods softly. "Can...Can I bring my tiger?"

His older brother's chuckle rumbles in his ear, and his hand rubs down the side of his head. "Yes, you can bring your tiger."

"O—Okay, Saba."

He pulls away after one final kiss to the head, and turns, rubbing at his eyes as he leaves his older brothers room for the room next door, his room, to change into his pajamas and grab his stuffed tiger.

Sabaoth looks over at the movement in the doorway, and Sora smiles at him shyly. "Is it okay to come in now?"

He smiles to the baby angel and nods, holding his arms open for him, Sora smiles again and scurries into his room, diving into his inviting embrace. "It is," he wraps him up in his arms and kisses the top of his head. "Thank you for waiting, little pup."

"You're welcome, Saba."

He smiles, rubbing his back lightly, and pulls away slightly. "Did you bring a puzzle for us to do?"

Sora nods happily, holding up his puzzle of choice, he's not surprised in the slightest at the dolphins that litter the cover. "I knew you'd pick the dolphin one."

The little guard smiles brightly. "I love dolphins."

"I know you do, baby brother." He brushes his hair back. "Why don't you start sorting the pieces while I get myself changed and get Os into bed."

"Okay, Saba." He wanders over to sit in front of his desk, setting his beloved stuffed dolphin next to him, he watches the little angel open the box and start sorting the pieces out.

Smiling to himself, he turns to his wardrobe, opening the door, he reaches in for his night shirt. Pulling his tunic up over his head, he tosses it in the hamper and pulls his night shirt on. Bending over he unties his boots, toeing them off, he pushes them to rest at the corner of his Wardrobe, and changes his trousers real quick, a simple pair sweats, yes, they do have some modern clothes, particularly for lounging.

"Saba, you should braid your hair." He smiles down at the little angel, Sora looks up at him with bright eyes, his dolphin sitting in his lap now. "You think so?" The little angel nods lightly. "I think it looks nice."

"Alright, I'll braid my hair, then."

He's had practice, it doesn't take him long, and just as he's tying it off, Osmadiel appears in his door way looking about as pitiful as they come, hugging his stuffed tiger in his arms.

Chuckling softly, he holds his arms out, and the younger guard steps into them, pressing his face into his shoulders. "Oh, Osy, you look like a pitifully little puppy."

He mumbles into his shoulder. "My butt hurts."

He smiles, rubbing a hand down the back of his head. "I'd imagine it does. It was quite red the last time I saw it."

"Saba, I don't feel good."

"I know you don't, baby monkey." He turns him around, pulling away slightly to guide him to his bed, reaching down, he pulls the blankets back. "Get in bed, little brother, a nice sleep will help you feel better."

"But I can't sleep." Os climbs into bed none the less, turning to look up at him from his place against the pillows, as he tucks the blanket up under his chin. "My belly hurts too much."

"Don't you worry," he reaches down and pokes him in the nose. "Big brother's got the thing for upset bellies."

"Okay, Saba." He cuddles down under the blankets and watches his older brother turn, heading for the cabinet next to the door, he riffles inside for something, and returns to his side with a small bottle and a spoon. "Alright, Osy, sit up for a moment."

He sits up as he's asked to, watching as his brother pours a bit into the spoon, and opens his mouth to take the spoonful of medicine that's held out to him. "Alright, it'll take a moment, but it should help your belly feel better, and it's going to make you sleepy, so it's easier to fall asleep."

Osmadiel smacks his lips lightly at the aftertaste and cuddles down, peeking up at him from under the blanket. "Saba, when's papa getting back?"

"He'll be back after supper."

"Okay, Saba."

He smiles, watching as the little guard closes his eyes, letting the medicine work it's magic, and his breathing slowly evens out. After he's sure he's asleep, he joins Sora on the floor, where the puzzle is all sorted and waiting for them. "Alright, Sora, when we finish this puzzle, you're going to take a nap, okay?"

"Okay, Saba." The baby angel looks up at him innocently. "Saba, am I going to get sick too?"

"Probably, puppy," he nods lightly. "But, by then, your papa will be home, and he'll get you all better again."

"Okay, Saba."


	248. The Consequences Of Our Actions Pt 1

He follows after the medic dutifully, not daring say a word, he knows their plan was a stupid one, he knows he should have urged them all to seek out Michael and Raphael more then he had, but the thought of getting his Power back outweighed common sense. Someone had tried to take Puri away from him, Puri was the first guardian he ever had that truly cared about him, who let him play and have fun, who didn't drill him nonstop to be the very best. He couldn't just sit by and wait while someone was possibly going to hurt what was his, he couldn't do that, he owed Puri more then that, consequences be damned.

Until they caught up with him, anyway.

And caught up with them they had.

Puriel was not happy. He wasn't the type to yell, to raise his voice, to scream and rant and rave. He was quiet, he got quiet, he was a thinker, thinking of what to do to make sure the lesson was learned that what had happened was _never _to happen again.

He knew Puriel was unhappy in the way he carried himself, the muscles in his shoulders tense, his fingers curled just a bit tighter around the handle of his sword then was necessary, the way he walked, slowly, but at a steady pace. He knew Puriel was _very _unhappy.

Did he regret what he did? No.

Did he regret maybe not thinking it over a bit more? For sure.

He follows the medic across the training field, down the hall, towards the Armory that Abner had unlocked for them earlier that day. Puriel spares him a side glance. "Stay here."

Donavon nods obediently, curling his fingers around his belt, watching as the Power pressed his hand to the door, and like it had under Abner's touch, the runes lit up the same color of Puriel's grace, illuminating, and the wall shifted, the door folding in, rolling to the side to allow him to enter. He wanted to look into the room, peek inside and see what else was in there, but instead he looked down to his boots, he didn't want to see Puriel's eyes when he came back around the corner.

The Power comes around the corner silently, the only foretelling of his pending arrival being the sounds of his boots stomping on the solid stone flooring, and he feels fingers curl around the base of his neck as he's turned around, guided back down the hall, and turned up the steps that lead to the Pavilion above. Puriel doesn't say a word, his grip on the back of his neck is all that's needed, that alone tells him just how upset the medic is with him.

They walk through the Lounge silently, Puriel's room is the first on the right, across from Gadreel and Abner's room. He looks over into their room silently, his eyes meet the older Sentry's, and Abner nods silently, what happened stays between them, he had warned them about the consequences of their half-cocked rescue mission.

Abner knew he would face the consequences of the actions he took in allowing them access to the weapons in the Armory, and he'd done it anyway, he'd said he couldn't give them clearance, but his actions had spoken loud enough, clearance without it being given verbally.

Puriel turns him into his room, and brings them to a stop, closing the door behind them with a soft click. Puriel leads him to the center of the room and squeezes his neck lightly to indicate for him to stay put, as he turns for his wardrobe. He hears the door click as it's pulled open.

"Here, put this on." A shirt is held out to him. "Are you hurt?"

Donavon shakes his head slightly, taking the shirt being given to him to wear. "No."

"Good," he hears the raddle of a belt buckle. "Get changed."

He changes quickly, throwing his dirty clothes in the hamper by the door, he stands back in the center of the room in the shirt that's much too big on him and his underpants. The youngling takes a deep breath and chances a glance at his guardian, the medic stands beside him, with his arms crossed tightly, as he just watches him for a long moment. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, you're going to be." The Power nods firmly as if to assert his promise. "What you did was _exponentially _foolish, Donavon." He tilts his head down slightly. "You could have gotten yourselves _killed_."

"But we didn't!"

"_But _you could have. How do you think that would have made me feel, being locked in that cage, watching as they dragged your lifeless body away, unable to do anything as they struck my _only _boy down."

"We were fine, though!"

"That's not the point, Donavon!" His voice finally raises slightly, but he catches himself, taking a deep breath, he shakes his head. "You were fine because they were unprepared. Had they been prepared you wouldn't have at the same ending. You have a bright head on your shoulders, quite possibly the smartest one in your class, but what you did was inexplicably _ignorant._"

Donavon moves, jumping to stand before the Power, Puriel looks down at him as he curls his fingers around his arm, tugging desperately. "I couldn't just sit back and do _nothing_!" He doesn't feel as though what he did was wrong. That part frightens the medic. "You're the only guardian that I have that actually _cares _about me! I couldn't sit back and let someone possibly hurt you!"

"You should have gone to Michael." He lets the boy hang onto him, but shakes his head, he is not letting him have this one. This one was going too far. "Donavon, I love you, I adore you, I think of you as a son, to see you put yourself in that position, at that much risk, it kills me inside. I can't stop thinking about what might have happened, leaving there without you, knowing that when I returned home, I wouldn't be returning to your smile, I wouldn't have my boy to hold close while I recovered, because my boy got himself killed doing something _stupid_."

He looks down, his fingers still curled around the Power's crossed arm, he hadn't thought about that at the time. After a moment, he looks back up, this time a bit more somber. "But you can hold me now."

"Oh, and I will, but first there's something we have to take care of." He nods to the bed. "You're going to bare yourself and stretch out over the edge of the bed."

"But Puri—"

"_Do it, _Donavon."

He nods, scrambling back, pulling the big shirt up and pulling his boxers down slightly, he stretches himself over the edge of the bed just as he was told to. He tries to prepare himself when he hears the rattle of the belt buckle, but it catches him by surprise, usually Puri will press it against his bottom before pulling it back to deliver the first strike, but this time it comes crashing down, and he howls, jumping in shock, again and again, and a sob tears from his throat sooner then he expected it to, as he howls and sobs with every thrash.

At some point, he must have pushed himself up, because Puriel's hand is settled on the small of his back and pushing him back down against the mattress, the belt raining down viciously against his bare backside.

"I'm going _easy _on you." It most certainly doesn't feel like it. "If you _ever _pull a stunt like this ever again, I'll quickly turn into your worst enemy."

He shrieks as the belt plasters down over his thighs, jumping, bouncing from foot to foot as it paints a path of searing strikes up from his thighs and over his bottom, Puri has very good aim.

It feels like an eternity has passed, as he lays there, howling and shrieking and sobbing into his hands, jumping and bouncing from side to side, the belt pelting across his bottom angrily, when it finally stops. And, he just lays there, in that position, his bottom feels as though its on fire, sobbing deeply into his fingers. The hand on his lower back rubs soothing circles, he feels the Power lean over him, the belt crashing lightly on his desk as he tosses it over him. Hands curl around his upper arms and pull him up, his hands immediately fly back to rub at his bottom, and he bounces in place, crying out when his hands press against the burned flesh. Hands tug his underpants back up, and guide him over to the desk chair, the hard-wooden desk chair, and he cries out again as he's pushed down to sit.

"Sit there while I get changed."

He nods frantically, crying freely, watching as the Power parts from his side and quickly changes out of his clothes into something more comfortable, something he can sleep in. He squirms, he knows the Power is stalling, delaying his finish, to make him sit there longer on his beaten bottom, fresh tears continuously pouring down his cheeks as he watches the medic complete menial little tasks as he suffers in his seat.

After a minute, he can't take it anymore, squirming in his seat, he calls out miserably, whining softly. "Paaaappppaaaaaaaa!"

"One more minute, Avon."

At least they're back to the nicknames again, it does nothing to help his stinging rear and the torture he's facing being forced to sit on it, but it does let him know that he's not mad at him anymore.

It's the longest minute of his life, and he jumps up when the Power nods at him, indicating that he's allowed to, still crying softly, his sobs having died down some, he bounces still as he rubs at his bottom, the fire has not diminished any.

Gentle fingers curl around his shoulder and he's turned around slightly. "Let's see the damage." He feels him lift his shirt and pull the strap of his boxers away slightly, Puri hums softly, letting his boxers go and the shirt falls back down again. "I was bit heavier handed then I had wanted to be, I'm afraid I let a bit of my anger control my swings," he turns him towards the bed. "You lay down, on your belly, bare yourself again and I'll rub some aloe on your bottom to help with the burn."

Donavon nods, turning to face him first, looking up at him with wide puffy bloodshot eyes. "'ug firs'?"

"I was going to cuddle you close when I was done with your bottom," he pulls him into his arms gently. "But you can have a hug now too." The boy presses his face deep into his chest, clutching on as tight as he can manage, and the medic curls around him completely. "Don't ever do that again, okay, I couldn't bare the thought of losing you."

"N-Never!"

He feels lips press to the top of his head, and a hand rubs over his back. "Go on and lay down. I'll be there in just a moment."

Nodding against his chest, Donavon pulls away, crossly slowly to the bed, he carefully climbs on and settles down in the middle, resting on his stomach, he reaches back to push his drawers down again, then reaches up to clutch the pillow as he watches the Power grab a jar from the cabinet and turn back towards him.

Smiling at him softly, Puriel sits on the edge of the bed, positioning himself just right to face his crimson bottom, and unscrews the lid from the jar. Scooping up a bit with his fingers, he reaches out, and the boy yelps softly when his hand presses to his heated cheek, rubbing the cool aloe over the heated skin, he rubs it first over his right cheek, reaches over to rub it over his left, then down to his upper thighs.

As the aloe does it's job, his cries die down, until he's just a wheezing hiccupping boy, watching him screw the cap back on the jar, and lean forward to place it on his bedside table, wiping his hand on the side of his pants.

The medic pulls his under drawers back up, and reaches around, patting his back lightly he turns to look at him again. "Alright you, sit on up a bit, and I'll slide right on in there with you."

Donavon does, doing as he's told, and the Power slides in under him, his legs straddling around him, he lays back against the pillows, hooking his fingers under his arms to pull him up to lay over his chest. Donavon pulls himself up, curling his fingers in the Power's tunic, and rubs his cheek over his chest as he's settled down over top of the medic. Fingers thread through his curls, rubbing lightly at his head, and he sighs, hiccupping softly, he looks down at his hand, fingers clutching at the older angel's tunic.

He doesn't like the first part, but the after is always pleasant, just being held by someone who loves you unconditionally, no matter what trouble you caused.

"I'm sorry I was so harsh." A finger rubs over his cheek lightly. "I couldn't think of anything else to ensure that this lesson stuck definitively in your mind."

He sniffles softly. "Message received."

"You mean the world to me, Avon, I don't know what I would do if I lost you," a finger under his chin tilts his head upwards. "Please don't ever do that again."

"I won't, papa," he doesn't see the Power smile at the name, as he turns his head back down, but the fingers threaded through his curls scratch a bit firmer for a moment. "I promise."

"Thank you, Avon."

…

For as long as he's known him, Titus had always been a rather quiet individual, preferring the contact of physical affection over spoken words. His anger is a soft simmering anger, the quiet before the storm, it doesn't rage or boil over, it simmers silently in the background, growing in intensity, he could portray how he felt at any given moment by the expressions he made, by the way he carried himself, by the particular way his eyes shined.

He knew Tus was angry at him, he could feel it in the air around them as they walked across the Training Field together, he'd felt it in the way he stared at him throughout his checkup, ensuring there was no lasting injuries that needed immediate attention. He'd taken his sword back when they'd reunited down in that catacomb of a prison they had been kept in, and he stared at him, walking a pace behind, his head bowed slightly, shoulders taught with emotion, fingers curled just a tad tighter than usual around the hilt, the flat of the blade resting against his shoulder.

Andre knew he was supposed to follow him, even if the command hadn't been given verbally, Titus expected him to be just a step behind him.

They stepped up on the stone underside of the Pavilion, walking their way down the hall towards the Armory, and he's told to wait in the hall quietly, as the Power presses his hand to the door, and it slides open for him. He hears the blade slide into the leather sheath, and as the hilt dings against the side of the cabinet slightly as it's set inside, then there's another slight ding, and Titus appears again, his fingers curled around the sheath of a short sword, coming from his hand to the middle of his upper arm, Andre dreads the thoughts that swarm his head for what that's for.

Titus waves him forward, and he turns, leading this time as they make their way back down the hall towards the stairs, and he turns to take the first one, leading them up until they crest the top stair and enter the Lounge. He falters briefly at the sound of a soft muffled wail, the sound of leather striking bare flesh, and a hand curls around his right shoulder to push him on, continuing their way to the hall, as they cross in front of Puriel's door, he hears another crack of a thrash, another wail follows, and he curls his fingers into fists nervously.

They stop in the hall between two rooms, theirs on the left, and Abner and Gadreel's on the left. Titus squeezes his shoulder firmly, indicating he is not supposed to move from this spot, and turns into the Sentry's room. There's a soft utterance of a small conversation, silence follows, and Abner says something in reply, and then Tus reappears, his hand curling around his shoulder once more as he turns him into their room. He's guided to stand in the center of the room, and he fidgets slightly, watching the Power set the sheath on his cleared desk, and turn towards his wardrobe next to it.

He opens the door and reaches inside, pulling out a light blue t-shirt, and turns slightly passing it to him. "Here, change into this."

Andre, nods silently, he's just not sure what to say, and he slowly changes out of his tunic and trousers into the t-shirt that's given to him. Titus closes the wardrobe door and turns, towards the fireplace, and drops two logs into the metal holder, stoking the embers into a small flame, that soon crackles into raging life, filling the room with light and heat.

"Tus," he tries, his voice is small, meek even. "I'm sorry."

"We'll talk about it in a moment, Andreus."

He bites back a whine and nods, standing in the center of the room still, he curls his fingers in the bottom hem of the t-shirt, rolling it between his fingers. He watches the Power pull his rings off, setting them in the small tray on top of his vanity, as he bend over to untie his boots and pulls them off, followed by his socks. He watches as he crosses around him, moving him slightly by the arms, as he reaches for his night clothes on the bed, and changes into them silently.

Then he turns to face him, crossing his arms over his chest. "What on earth went through that mind of yours that said coming after us was a good idea?"

Andre cringes lightly, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck meekly. "I…Uum….."

"Yes?"

"I…I couldn't just leave you there, Tus!" He finally finds his words. "I knew you were in trouble and I couldn't let anything happen to you."

"And, instead of bringing this matter up with our Archangel, you thought to come yourself, you, who is still in _training_?"

"I—I couldn't wait that long! I needed you to come home, I knew you were in trouble Tus, I didn't know if we had that long!"

The Power raises an eyebrow. "So, you put yourself into unnecessary risk because you were impatient."

"You don't understand!"

He raises his other eyebrow. "I understand _perfectly _well how you felt, but _I _also know having a _well thought out _strategy is of upmost importance, what _you _did was extremely foolish, you could have gotten yourself _killed_, and then where would I be?" He shakes his head, as though to clear those thoughts away, he doesn't even want to think them. "It is my job to protect you, not the other way around, you will never do something so foolish again."

"But—"

"_Never _again, Andreus."

The youngling nods silently, looking down to his feet. "Never again."

"Good," he uncrosses his arms, reaching out for the youth's shoulder again, turning him around towards the desk. "Pass me the sheath." He swallows thickly and nods, reaching forward, he picks up the aforementioned item and passes it back to his guardian. Titus takes it from his hand and pushes him forward gently, he may be angry with him, but that was no reason to be unnecessarily rough. "Bare yourself and bend over the desk." Andre gulps, nodding slightly, as he steps out from under the Power's hand and lifts his shirt up, pulling his drawers down slightly, he bend over the side of the desk, reaching across to grip the other end to keep himself steady and give himself something to hold onto throughout what was going to come next.

There's no warning, no pressing it against his bare rear first, it just whistles through the air and whacks against his bare bottom. He shrieks in surprise, jumping forward slightly, banging his knees against the desk as he does. There's no break or reprieve between lashes, it rains down again and again, and he shrieks, howling and crying as it does, bouncing from foot to foot, hopping with every blow.

Eventually, he can't take it anymore, sobbing deep in his chest, he throws his hands back to cover his rear end. Shaking his head frantically when he's told to move his hands, he turns over his shoulder, tears streaming down his cheeks. "No more! No more, papa! Please! I'm sorry! I'm really really sorry!"

"Move your hands, Andreus."

"No! No, please! No more! I'm sorry! I'll never do it again! Please, papa, please!"

"Five more, Andreus, move your hands."

Sobbing harshly, he tentatively removes his hands, curling them in his shirt as the sheath comes back down quickly, he howls, sobbing into his hands, as he brings them up to cover his mouth. The last five feel like they're the hardest, that he's throwing all his strength into them, and by the time they stop, he's choking on his sobs, bouncing in place, throwing his hands back around to his bottom, shrieking when his hands press to the burning skin of his beaten rear end.

"Oooowwwwww! Ooowwwwwiiieeeeee! Ooowwwwwwooowwwwooooowwwwww!"

He hears the sheath bang against the desk as it's tossed over, around him, and hands curl around his upper arms as he's turned around, and then they curl around his cheeks. "Never do something so openly dangerous again, do you understand me, I can't bare the thought of losing you like that, you mean more than the world to me, you're one of my boys, a parent is not supposed to send off their child before them, don't make me have to, please, I'm asking you, I'm begging you." He presses their foreheads together, not caring about the tears and snot, looking him in the eyes imploringly. "I love you, Andreus, I love you too much to watch you throw your life away doing stupid things."

"I—I love y—you too, pa—papa!"

Titus pulls away from him then, pulling his head down slightly to press a kiss to his forehead, and then he pulls him in, curling him in his arms, hugging him close and tight. His fingers scratch at the back of his head, his hand petting his hair, swaying him side to side, whispering words of comfort in his ear as he sobs on. Clutching at the Power's tunic, he presses his face into his chest, he sobs, sobbing about how sorry he is, about how his butt hurts, about how bad he feels for scaring his papa like he had.

"Come on, Andre, come on, let's lay down." He guides him around, guiding him towards the bed. "Come on, baby boy, we're going to lay down."

They shuffle towards the bed, Titus sits down first, pulling him down with him, and scoots back to lay against the pillows, pulling him forward against him, and he stretches out between his legs, pressing his face back into his chest, crying softly, his sobs having abated slowly, and a hand rubs at his back while the other returns to rubbing at his head. Words of comfort are whispered in his ear again. He has yet to pull his drawers back up, and he doesn't want to, because he knows it'll hurt. Titus doesn't say anything about it, he lets him lay against him, his crimson bottom visible, and slowly takes the process of calming his cries down.

They slowly subside, and he sniffles, wheezing softly, rubbing at his nose with his hand for a moment before curling his fingers back in the Power's shirt. "Papa…..Papa, my butt hurts."

"I know it does." He rubs soothing circles over the small of his back and fans at his burning bottom lightly. "The sting will help this lesson be a memorable one."

He nods, he doesn't like it, but he understands it, the burn will definitely make him remember it. So, he lets it go, and nuzzles down closer, he'll wait for the burning to subside a bit more before he pulls his drawers back up.

"I'm sorry I made you scared, papa."

Titus presses a kiss to his forehead. "It's okay, just don't do it again."

"I'm sleeping with you tonight, right?"

"Without a doubt." He hugs him close, pressing a kiss against the side of his head. "I'm not letting you go for anything."

…

When he woke up the next morning, he was immediately aware of the head resting just beside his face, he goes cross eyed staring at it, and smiles. He's curled around a little person, his arms curled around their waist, pressed firmly back against him. They're still sleeping peacefully unaware, hands folded up beside their face, it's an adorable sight to behold.

Michael had given them the next week off to recover from their ordeal, so he could very well just curl them back in his arms, lay back down, and go back to sleep.

But judging by the placement of the sun and the rumble in his belly, he'd say it was close to lunch time, they had slept in long enough.

So, instead, he rolls over, they fall back onto their back now that he's not there to hold them up. He smiles at them as the mumble sleepily and wiggles his fingers slightly in their sides. They giggle softly, batting weakly at his hands, squirming slightly from side to side.

"Wakey, wakey, little Avon." He wiggles his fingers again, and those little eyes flutter open, as he arches his back slightly, giggling feverishly. "Good morning, little guy, sleep well?"

Donavon smiles at him sleepily, rubbing his eyes lightly. "I slept very well, papa."

"That's great," he pushes himself forward to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. "How about we go get some breakfast?"

"But I'm still sleepy, papa."

"How about we go get some breakfast, and then we'll go cuddle up in the Lounge, and if you want to go back to sleep you can."

"Okay, papa," he yawns, wrapping his arms around the medic's neck. "Carry me?"

He chuckles softly. "Come on out from under those blankets and I'll carry you."

Puriel climbs off his legs and stands, waiting for the boy to kick the blankets off and scamper out of bed, raising his arms up as he turns to face him. Curling his fingers around his middle, he hoists him up. Donavon kicks off a bit for an extra boost, and he pulls him up, his legs curl around his waist as he curls his arms under him. Carrying them from his room, he reaches out with his right hand to open the door, and makes their way down the hall towards the kitchen.

Peeking into the Lounge as they come out of the hall, he sees his brothers already there, taking silent pleasure in each other's presence. Nisroc is laying stretched out on one of the couches, his ankles crossed at the other end, Paul smooshed between the back of the couch and his side, Sasha stretched out over top of him with one arm curled under up next to the Captain's head and the other dangling freely over the other side of his chest, both boys are sleeping, his brother's eyes are closed, but he knows he's awake, the fingers of his free hand rub lazily into the Sasha's curls.

Abraxas and Abraxos are curled up on the couch next to theirs, they're silent, unmoving, he knows they're sleeping too.

Titus is laying in a pile of pillows, surrounded by bodies, Sora and Andre curled up against his sides, Gadreel and Abner curled up at his feet, taking comfort in their closeness. He knows that his younger brother is still awake too, though his eyes are closed, as one hand scratches idly at Sorath's shoulder and the other scratches at Andre's head.

He smiles as he turns towards the counter, as Donavon lays his head to rest on his shoulder, he shakes him slightly, passing him a granola bar when he sits up. He bites into his own, and heads over into the Lounge, to claim a spot of their own. Puriel mimics his oldest brother's position, claiming the last couch, he stretches out, taking the last bite of his granola bar, he lays back against the pillow, crossing his ankles at the end of the seat, Donavon readjusts his position, still resting on his chest, he stretches his legs out, his feet rubbing against the Power's shins, and he nuzzles back down, tugging on his shirt lightly. The medic smiles, happy to accommodate his silent demand, and reaches up to pull the blanket down around them.

The fire in the fireplace is raging full blast, and the room is warm, but there's nothing like curling up in a soft comfy blanket.

The youngling curls a fist into the blanket and pulls it up under his nose. "Go back to sleep." He rubs at the boy's head lightly, scratching gently at his scalp. Donavon rubs his cheek against his cheek and mumbles softly under the blanket. "Go on, go back to sleep, that's it." He feels the boy's breathing slowly even back out, and after a moment, he knows his out again.

He looks out the window himself, watching the snow fall lazily from the sky, and after a short while he feels his eyelids growing heavier and heavier. He wraps his arms around the boy's lower back gently and settles down, closing his eyes, they had the next week off, he can sleep as much as he wants.


	249. The Captain's Hounds

He was at the end of his rope, he had tried being nice, he had tried being respectful, and it had gotten him nowhere. The older one liked to push him, liked to push his buttons, always growling at him and blocking his path wherever he walked, trying to insinuate that he was the alpha in this relationship, there was no relationship, he had an alpha, and it most certainly wasn't some snot nosed human. After a week of this attempt at intimidation, purposely starving him, treating him like he was a tool to be used instead of a living breathing creature, it was no wonder he snapped.

The angel was the next one on his list, if he got out of these chains and got this muzzle off his snout, he'd sink his teeth into that abomination's neck. He wasn't a killer by trade, but he was a hound through and through, hounds were another form of soldiers, they had that killer instinct when pushed to their limits.

His fur was heavy, he was dirty, his snout hurt from the muzzle, the chains around his neck were chaffing the skin under his fur, and he was done.

He had been promised they would treat him better this time, Father had promised, and thus far He hadn't delivered.

So, the hound gave up at tugging on the chains, growls and snarls dying in his throat, and he sank to his belly, whining softly as his eyes flashed the color of a flame.

Dean Winchester smirked. "See, I told you, he'd learn his place."

Between him and his younger brother, their angel friend Castiel frowned, watching the angel hound lay there silently. He knew better. "He is not being submissive. He is calling for his master."

Sam Winchester looked to their angel with concerned eyes. "Who's his master?"

"Nisroc, Captain of the Powers, second best warrior only under Michael himself."

They knew him, they'd had plenty of experience with him, and looking over to his hound, Sam had the fleeting thought that he was not going to leave a pleasurable passing. They hadn't treated the hound very nicely, using him as a means to an end, Dean often left him at the scenes of their hunts, saying he was an angel and could find his own way back. He wasn't wrong, but the hound had suffered injuries, he knew it had, and they had left them untreated. His brother had been especially cruel to him, trying to show him up, standing in the way of his food bowl when he'd fill it, purposely forgetting to feed him, pushing him to his breaking point just so he'd have an excuse to retaliate.

Like they had, muzzling and containing the massive beast, he'd jumped against his confines, snarling and growling lowly, threateningly, as though to warn them that he would attack as soon as he freed himself.

"We should let him go."

Let it not be said that Sam Winchester did not have just a bit more self-preservation then his older brother did.

Dean turns to look at him. "Are you kidding me!" He gestures to the mutt. "He's eyeing me, man, he'll take my head off the moment we give him any slack."

"I don't think it's him we should be worried ab—"

"Would someone _please_ tell me why _my _hound is _chained and muzzled_ like some sort of rabid beast?"

The harsh voice interrupts his last thought, and they turn to look at the new arrival, they all recognize him.

Dean jabs a finger at him. "Your mutt almost killed me!"

"Then you must have deserved it." Nisroc steps between him and the abomination. "My hound is very well trained; he would not attack unless he felt threatened." He kneels before the hound, reaching out slowly with a hand, the hound sits up, whining as it rubs it's head against his fingers and palm, moving with him as he rubs his hand down the back of his neck and up under his snout. "Isn't that right, my little puppy?"

"Well trained my ass! He doesn't know the top dog when it's looking him right in the eye! You don't eat if you don't know who's in charge!"

The Captain peers over his shoulder, his eyes as hard as stone. "So, you admit to starving my hound." He looks back to the shepherd, reaching under his snout with both hands to unclasp the muzzle from around his snout, and slips it off gently. "He knows who his alpha is, and it most certainly isn't you, isn't that right, Era?"

Era stands slightly, leaning up to lick under his chin, and he chuckles warmly, a stark contrast to his treatment of the ones behind him. "Yes, yes, I know, he misses you too." He curls his fingers around the chain locked to his collar and tugs harshly, snapping the link in two, and he lets the chain drop to the floor. Era jumps up slightly, on his two hind legs, resting his front paws on his shoulders, licking at his face again. He scrunches his face up, chuckling softly, and lifts the large hound up into his arms, his strength is extraordinary. "If you _ever _see my hound again, he will not be alone." He turns to look at their angel. "Do not misconstrued yourself, Castiel, he _allowed_ you to detain him."

…

He carries the hound across the empty training field, his weight is not an obstacle for him, and it's most certainly no burden.

"First things first, we'll get you a nice meal, something thick and warm to fill up that belly." He steps up onto the stone surrounding the underside of the Pavilion. "And then we'll get you a nice bath, get you all nice and clean." He takes the first step up. "Then, Puri will look you over for anything that needs tending to." They crest the final stair and step up into the Lounge. "And then, we'll retreat back to my room, where Spot is waiting as patiently as a puppy can for you, and we'll cuddle together, and I'll rub your belly and you can have your bunny, and you'll never have to worry about them again."

Erathaol barks softly, licking his cheek, settling on his paws when the Captain sets him down in the dining area. "We had chicken and potatoes for supper, you stay right here, I'll fix you up a bowl." He barks again, watching his master step away, standing before the counter, and pull his bowl out of the cupboard. He missed his bowl. He watches him scoop a hearty spoonful of potatoes into his bowl, then peel some chicken apart and set it over the potatoes, and top it off with gravy, before mixing it all together.

"Here you go, you big puppy," he turns back towards him, kneeling slightly to set his bowl down in front of him. "Eat up, fill that belly up." He barks again, leaning over into his food bowl, lapping it up like he hadn't eaten in weeks, he hadn't, he was famished. The potatoes were warm and creamy, just a little bit of chunks mixed within, the chicken was warm and tender, spiced just right, and he licked his bowl clean, looking back up to the Power with those puppy eyes that said he wanted a second helping. Nisroc chuckles softly and leans over to pick up his bowl. "Coming right up, little guy." He devours the second bowl just as quickly, and licks his snout when he's done, licking away contentedly with his full belly.

"Come on, Era." Nisroc pets his head lightly, pulling his attention up to him, and he tilts his head as he speaks. "Let's go get you cleaned up."

He follows the Power down to the washroom, where the room is warm, the water warmer, and the soap smells good. He follows Nis out into the water and sits dutifully for him, ducking down slightly as he pours a cup full of water over his head, scrubbing it into his fur. The Captain frowns at the caked-on mud that flakes off under his fingers, pouring more water down his back, and he soaks him thoroughly. "Oh, Era, they truly did a number on you, this must be so uncomfortable." He licks his cheek softly, and the older angel smiles, scrubbing the soap into his fur. Mud sticks to his fingers and he makes a face at it, rinsing the first round of soap out, and scrubs another round back in, making sure not to miss anything this time around, and rinses him down for the second time.

They walk out of the water, and he ducks to the side as the hound shakes out his fur, padding after him as he heads for the towel rack, and then he sits back down, wagging his towel happily as his Power rubs him dry with the towel.

He kisses him on the snout. "Feel better?" Era licks his cheek, and he chuckles, kissing him on the nose. "I thought you would." He tosses the towel over in the hamper and rubs the hounds ears back. "Alright, we've got a full belly, we're nice and clean, do we need to go see Puri for anything?"

The hound barks softly, nudging his chin with his nose, and the Captain chuckles softly. "You want to see Spot, don't you?" He barks again. "Alright, let's go, he's been waiting rather impatiently for you to get back."

He follows him out of the washroom and over to their room, he's expecting the puppy to come barreling at him so it doesn't catch him by surprise, he snatches the puppy up by the scruff and trots into the room, hopping up on the bed, Nis promised him cuddles. He sets the puppy down between his two front legs and licks at his head, nipping at his belly when he rolls over under him, batting at his snout.

_'I missed you so much, Era!'_

_'I missed you too, Spot!'_

"There's my two boys." A large warm hand rubs over his head and he preens, leaning into the touch, the Power climbs into the bed and he picks the puppy back up, crawling up between the Power's legs, and flops right down. He looks up when someone tugs on his ear. "Sleep on the side tonight, Era, my legs are sore." He whines, but stands, taking the puppy with him, and flops down against the Power's side instead.

He sets the puppy back down and it turns over again, little paws waving in the air slightly, batting at his snout softly, and he growls playfully, nipping at his paws lightly, before having a go at his belly. Spot barks and shrieks, batting at his snout even more, but he's undeterred, attacking the soft chubby belly as much as he can.

_'Era! Era, stop! That tickles! It tickles!'_

_'Oh, does it?' _He swipes a large lick over the puppy's little belly. _'I wouldn't have known.'_

"Era, let the poor puppy breath." A hand pushes against his head lightly and he turns snapping at it playfully, and a finger points at him threateningly. "Don't start something you know you can't finish." He nips at the finger playfully. "Oh, you don't want to start this, Era, you know you won't win." He nips at the finger again and the Captain closes his book softly. "Alright, you asked for it."

He barks brightly as he's tugged over onto his back, and fingers scratch playfully at his belly, he barks brightly, kicking out with his paws. "How do you like this, huh, a little taste of your own medicine."

_'Ahahaha! Okay! Okay! I get it!'_

"Are you going to leave our little puppy in peace?"

_'Yes! Yes, I'll leave him be! No more! Ahahaha! No more!'_

"Good boy," he pats him lightly on the belly and pulls away, letting him flop back over onto his side, Spot barks and climbs up on his side, licking happily at the older hounds ear. "I knew you'd understand."

_'I really missed you, Era, please don't go again.'_

_'Trust me, I'm not leaving again, I'm staying right here with you.'_

The puppy nips at his ear lightly before hoping off his side and nuzzling his way up between the older hounds front legs. Era stretches slightly, snagging his puppy's favorite bear by the ear, setting it down to rest beside him, then he reaches for his bunny, he can't sleep without his bunny.

_'Era, can we play tomorrow?'_

_'All day, puppy, all day long.' _He licks the side of the puppy's head. _'But you have to get a good nights sleep so you're not tired.'_

_'I do not want to be sleepy while we're playing.'_

_ 'Then you better get to sleep, it is getting late.'_

…

"Alright," he swings his arm back, the two hound bound forward, bouncing on their front paws, waiting for him to make his move. "Go get it!" He throws his arm forward, and the larger hound takes off, chasing after the toy.

Spot whines, he's small, he can't keep up with Era, yet.

Nisroc chuckles, squatting in front of the puppy, reaching out to rub his head. "Don't worry, Spot." He holds out the ball to him, and he barks happily, taking it from his hand. "It gets him every time." He watches the puppy dart off, with the ball in his mouth, chasing after the older hound. Era nips at him, rolling over onto his back, the puppy drops the ball to pounce on him, wrestling playfully in the dirt, he knows Era is letting Spot hold the upper hand.

"I thought Era was with _them._"

He stands, looking over as Titus approaches on his left side, holding a puppy against his chest. It only takes him a glance to deduce that the puppy is Sora. "He was. He called for me. You should have seen it, Tus, they had him chained and muzzled. _My _hound. Chained and muzzled."

Titus shakes his head, watching the one in mention roll the puppy over, attacking his belly with him trapped under his front legs. "The nerve. I don't know why you let him go."

"I didn't. It was Father's order." Nisroc shakes his head, crossing his arms slightly. "Next time, one of us is going with him. Watch them try to mistreat him while one of us is there. I don't think so."

"Uh oh, papa bear has been unleashed."

Nisroc turns a light smile in his direction. "Damn right he has. Hurting my puppy. I don't think so. Give them all a piece of my mind is what I'll do."

"They were mistreating him?" The younger Power's tone takes on something harsher, as a proud papa of many angel hounds, he did not take their mistreatment lightly.

He nods. "They weren't feeding him. I gave him a bath, and I could feel the scabs forming under his fur. He jumped right into bed. His poor paws must have been killing him."

"Unbelievable." Titus shakes his head. "Did you have Puri look him over?"

"I asked him if he needed to be looked over," the older Power looks back to his two dogs, smiling as Era flaps over on his side and he lets Spot jump up on him, tugging at his ear playfully. "He said he didn't. But I'm thinking on having him go just to be on the safe side."

"I would, you never know, Era's never been one to say anything when he's not well."

"I will." He nods assertively, mind made up. "After the day comes to an end, I don't want to interrupt their fun, Spot really missed his big brother." They both smile at the sight of the puppy flopped over the larger hounds head, nipping at one of his ears, as the older hound chewed on the ball under him. "Just look at them."

"I can't believe them, though, the nerve of them." Titus shakes his head, lifting the puppy in his hand up to look in the eyes, a little pink tongue licks him on the nose, and he presses a kiss to the puppy's nose in return. "If it had been one of my pups, I would have lost my shit, harm one of mine, I don't think so. I'd have given them a piece of my mind right then and there." He kisses the puppy on the nose again and presses him to his chest again. "Like this _Peliel_ character."

Nisroc turns to look at him. "Oh, Saba told me all about him, did he really melt Sora's cars?"

"He did!" The guards captain rubs a finger over the puppy's head. "Papa got him a whole new set of cars, though, didn't he, yes he did." The puppy barks softly and tilts his head up, licking at the finger rubbing over his head. "I'm waiting for the right moment to strike."

"Please don't kill him."

"I won't." He shakes his head. "I'll only maim him. A little bit. Just a little off the top."

The Captain shakes his head lightly, turning back to watch his pups with a smile. "Just a little but of maiming is fine, for what he did to Sora."


	250. Keeping Each Other Company

The little puppy whines as he tugs the well loved bunny over his two front legs, licking at it's face and sniffing it frantically, he missed his friend, his big brother, the one who had given him a new home and a new family. He didn't like it when he went away, he was scared he wouldn't come back, just like his old family hadn't. He was going to be alone again, he was a bad puppy, he pushed everyone away and he didn't even know how, so there was no way for him to change it.

"Spot," the voice of his new master interrupts his depressed thoughts, and he looks up, with big watery eyes. Nisroc kneels in front of the dog bed that him and Era shared, scratching a finger behind his ear lightly. "You miss Era, don't you?"

He barks softly, nudging the bunny with his nose, whining lightly as he licks at one of the ears.

"I miss him too." His finger travels from behind his ear to under his chin. "But, he'll be back, he'd never leave you, he loves you so much." He hums softly, trying to think of a way to help the sad puppy, the memories of his old family leaving him were still fresh, no matter how much kindness they showed him since taking him in, it would be something he held onto for a long while. "We're going to spend the entire day together, Era is coming back tonight, so me and you will keep each other company until he comes back, alright?" The puppy perks up, sitting up from laying over the bunny's plush stomach, and barks softly in response. "Yep, you and me, we'll play in the field, have treats, get some belly rubs, we'll have so much fun we won't even remember Era is gone, and then he'll be back before we know it."

Spot pushes himself up, barking again. _'Really?'_

"Really, how about we start with picking out our first toy." He pulls the basket full of toys over between them. Spot stands, climbing to his paws, and sniffs through the basket, picking out a long thick rope toy. He tests it out, shaking it around, throwing it up above him, growling lightly as he chews on the end, and then he leans forward, placing it in the hand nearest him. "Ah, a good choice, the rope toy is always a fun one." He curls his other hand under the puppy's belly and stands, cuddling the little hound to his chest, as he turns towards the door. "Now, what about breakfast, it's the most important meal of the day."

_'Chicken and gravy?'_

"Another fine choice, chicken and gravy is always yummy, would you like it warm or cold?"

_'Warm, please.'_

"As you wish." He presses a kiss to the puppy's head, and Spot purrs softly, barking happily at the affection. "Warm chicken and gravy coming right up." He sets him down next to his bowl, takes the bowl, sets the toy on the counter, and begins cutting up some chicken. He stirs it into a small pot of gravy and sets it to rest by the cooking fire for a couple of minutes, to warm it up, and he stirs it again, pours it into the puppy's bowl, and leans over to set the bowl back down for him.

Spot barks happily, diving into his breakfast, lapping it up quickly. He, himself, settles on some eggs. He sits on the floor, next to the puppy, as he eats his breakfast, so that way the little guy knows he's there still. Spot finishes before him, and sits at his side, licking at his paws and rubbing his snout to clean himself after such a filling meal. Once he's finished, he scoops the puppy back up, smiling at the warm little tongue that licks his cheek, sets his bowl in the sink, and picks up the rope toy with his free hand.

"Are we ready to go play?"

The puppy barks, licking his cheek some more. _'All ready!'_

"Alright, let's head on out then."

He carries them both towards the stairs, taking them at a steady pace downwards, they both come out into the sunshine of the training field under the Pavilion. They spy the other members of their family walking through the rows of trainees, three of them in the back with the newest recruits, fresh chosen ones just starting out, and they make their way down the main row, towards the back where there is more open space.

Titus sees them coming and turns as they approach, smiling sadly at the little puppy cuddled up against his chest. "Does he miss Era?"

The Captain nods lightly. "He does. But we're going to spend the entire day together. We're going to play at the moment, have some fun, time will fly by."

The younger Power nods. "It most certainly will. I'll see if Sora wants to join, he's around here somewhere, he was chasing a butterfly last time I saw him."

"The more the merrier." He does a quick once over on the newest recruits, he'll address them tomorrow after Era gets back, and leaves his brother's side for a spot behind them, behind the benches, where the grass hasn't been trampled down like the rest of the field.

He leans over, setting Spot down, and the leans over even more to lower himself to the ground. "Alrighty, lets have some fun, I bet you can't take this from me."

_'Yea I can!'_

"I don't think so, little guy."

_'I may be little, but I'm strong, I can take it!' _The puppy bounces from side to side playfully, happily barking the entire time, and jumps forward, catching the other end of the pull toy in his jaws, and tugs on it feverishly. _'I will show you!'_

They tug the rope back and forth for a short while, and then he loosens his grip, letting the puppy tug the toy out of his hand. Spot bounces happily, shaking his head feverishly, whipping the toy around as he spins in a small circle.

"I guess you were right," Nisroc smiles down at him, curling his fingers back around his end of the toy when the puppy sets it back in his fingers. "I really am no match for your strength."

_'I told you! I am a mighty puppy!'_

"You sure are, a mighty little puppy, I don't know how I thought I could ever stand a chance against you."

The puppy growls as he tugs on the rope, shaking his head from side to side, scooting backwards, his little rump bouncing with every little hop. His thoughts completely void of any thoughts about Era being away, which is what he had been hoping for, so his plan was working.

"I know how to beat you though, I do."

_'I do not believe you! You cannot beat me!'_

"Oh, yea?" He tugs the puppy closer with the toy rope, and turns him over on his back, the puppy squirms and kicks, as though he knows what is about to happen. "How about now, huh?" He lets go of his end of the toy and scratches his fingers playfully over his soft chubby little belly, Spot drops his end, barking brightly, kicking at his hand with his back little paws. "I beat you!"

_'Ahahahahha! You cheated! Ahahahaha! Stop! Ahahaha! It tickles!'_

"Oh, does it?" He finds a particularly sensitive and the puppy shrieks brightly, howling lightly, kicking his back paws faster. "Oh, did I find a particularly bad spot, I'll have to remember this from here on."

_'Not there! Not there! Ahahahahhaa! It tickles! It tickles! Aahahahhahaha!'_

"I'll stop, only if you say I win."

_'Aahahaha! You win! You win! Papa! Aahahahaha!'_

"Aww, thank you, baby boy, you're a winner too."

He lets the puppy go, and Spot rolls over onto his belly, panting lightly. A soft glow emanates from around his collar, covering him in the soft light, and his form shimmers, in the puppy's place sits a little boy, about two years old, wearing nothing but a small pair of knee-high trousers. He climbs to his feet, a bit shaky, they were still getting used to standing on two legs instead of four, because Era spent most of his time as a hound, Spot spent most of his time as a puppy. They changed forms together, or they stayed the same together, whichever one they chose, they chose it together.

Nisroc smiles at the little boy, holding his hands out for him, and little fingers curl around his as he takes a step forward on shaky legs. He giggles, falling forward to sit over his crossed legs, pulling his arms around him securely. "Are you having fun, little guy?"

"Lots of fun, papa!" Spot turns to look up at him, tilting his head forward, and he smiles down at him, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose. "What are we going to do now?"

"Well, we could play for a bit longer, or we could go have some lunch and take a nap, we could do a puzzle, we could do some art, we can do whatever you want to do."

Spot smiles brightly. "Can we paint?"

"Sure we can, lets head back inside, and we'll get everything out."

"Okay!"

The toddler uses his arms as a balance and pulls himself to his feet, turning in his lap, he falls forward against his chest, clutching at his tunic tightly, the Power smiles, leaning forward, he curls his arms around the boy's bottom as he pulls his feet under him and rises to his feet. Spot leans up, curling his arms around his neck, giggling when he bends over to pick up the rope toy, and they turn in the direction of the Pavilion.

Spot waves at the other Powers as they pass them by, and they wave back, smiling at him just as brightly as he smiles at them. Nisroc makes his way across the field, up onto the stone underbelly, and makes his way up the stairs.

He sets the little boy down in his booster seat, strapping him securely, and taps him on the nose. "I'll be right back with our supplies."

"Okay, papa!" he pats his hands together happily, watching the man leave him for a moment, he disappears down the hall for a few minutes, and smiles when he returns. His arms laden with a small tarp, paper, and various jars of paint. He sets them down on the bench just under the table, and shakes out the tarp, laying it over top of the table, sets a piece of paper down before the little boy, and opens the paint jars one by one, he leaves him for a moment, reaching into the cabinet above the sink for a couple bowls, and pours a bit of the paint into the bowls, one for each color, then he sits next to him at the table.

"Alrighty," he brushes his inky black curls back. "Let's see those artistic skills."

Spot giggles, dipping the fingers of his right hand into the bowl of blue paint, and smears it over the page. He swirls his fingers around, mixing in some red to make the color purple, and rubs it around all over, making small circles with his finger. He makes a tree with brown and green paint, a small lake with a dab of blue paint, and two figures with the black paint.

He turns to look up at the older man, pointing down at the paper with his paint covered fingers, Nisroc leans in close, a bit dramatically, and looks down at the colorful painting. "See, papa!"

"I see, what have you made for me today?"

"Me and you!" He points to the larger figure. "That's you!" And then to the smaller one. "And, that's me!"

"It's absolutely stunning, Spot, I'm going to hang it in my office for everyone to see."

Spot claps his hands excitedly, absolutely beaming. "Really!"

"Well, of course, it's a beautiful piece of art."

"Yay!" He claps his hands again. "Do another one!"

Nisroc chuckles, sliding the painted paper over and a new one in it's place. "What are you making this time?"

"Fishies!"

"Oh, fishies are always good."

He watches the boy paint with a smile, happy to see him so happy, and hums to himself, ruffling those silky thick curls again softly. "You keep on painting, I'm going to make us some lunch."

"Okay, papa!"

He leaves him, his leaving goes unnoticed by the little boy, his little tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he focused on his art. Humming as he worked, he pulled two plates down, took four pieces of bread, two for each plate, made one ham and cheese sandwich, one plain cheese sandwich, double cheese was best, cut up two apples, one for each plate, and poured one glass of juice, and one sippy cup of milk.

"Done!" He hums louder, turning to look over the boy's head, smiling at his proud beaming as he rubbed his hands together, smearing paint together. "Spot, it looks wonderful, another masterpiece, you are quite the artist."

"Hang it too?"

"Well, of course I'll hang it up. It's too pretty not to." He threads his fingers through the boy's soft thick curls. "Let's get cleaned up and have lunch."

"Okay!" He holds his little hands up over his head, giggling softly as the Captain rubs them clean with a hand towel, and gathers the paint covered bowls up from over his head. He sets the two pictures in the window to dry in the sun, and picks up their two plates, setting the cheese sandwich in front of him, then the glass of milk, and sat next to him with his own plate and glass of juice.

Spot takes a bite of an apple first, humming in pleasure, chewing happily and reaching for another piece, munching away happily on a tasty meal. He reached for his milk, gripping the sippy cup with both hands, and drank greedily at it. He ate half of his sandwich and then reached for another apple slice.

The Power finished before him, and just rested against the table, watching him finish up his sandwich with a happy little wave of his hands, and reach back out for his sippy cup, drinking the rest of his milk happily.

"All done?" He smiles at the little guy, and Spot nods happily, licking his lips, and he holds his cup out to him. "Can I has juice now?" He stacks their plates together, sets his glass over them, and takes his sippy cup in hand. "You sure can, apple or grape?"

"Apple, please."

"Coming right up."

He sets their plates and his glass in the sink with the bowls and fills the sippy cup up with cool apple juice, handing it back to the toddler as he came to stand behind him, and leaned over him as he drank to unbuckle the safety strap from around his waist. "Come on, you." He swipes him up from his booster seat and swings him around onto his hip. "Lets go take a nap."

"Naptime?"

Nisroc nods lightly, turning them in the direction of their room. "Naptime."

The little boy looks up at him, the spout of his sippy cup rubbing against his lower lip. "Will Era be back when I wake up?"

"He should be. If all goes according to plan."

"Okay." Spot returns to his sippy cup, drinking down the juice quietly, and Nisroc stops in the doorway of their room, looking down to the little boy, patting him on the bottom lightly. "Do you have to use the potty first?"

The boy shakes his head, and he nods, leading them into their room. He leans over the bed, cradling the back of the boy's head, and sets him down to lay against the pillows. Spot passes him his sippy cup, and in return he passes the boy his stuffed bear, tucking the blankets up around him. "Papa." The boy reaches out, and he takes one of his little hands, pressing a kiss to his palm. "I'm just crossing to the other side; I won't make you take your nap alone."

Spot nods, watching as he does as he said he would, and scoots over to him when he settles back against the pillows with him. Nisroc sighs softly, pulling the small puppy boy up to rest on his chest, stroking a finger over one of the little puppy ears poking out from his hair. The boy sighs softly, kneading his fingers into the chest under him lightly, his left thumb makes it's way to his mouth, his bear hugged under his arm. He hums softly, a listless tune, just a soft lullaby under his breath, and strokes his thumb down the back of the little silky ear, until the boy's breathing evens out, and he falls asleep.

He drops off soon after and wakes a few hours later, before the boy does, the sun has begun setting, his mission of distracting the little one from his missing brother a success. He looks over as the door opens slowly, one of his brothers letting his hound into the room, and Era takes one look in the doorway, seeing that his baby puppy brother is in his other form, he shifts mid step, climbing into the king sized bed on their other side, he wants to be there when he wakes up from his nap.

Nisroc smiles at him lightly, reaching out gently with his free hand to rub his shaggy curls, Erathaol sighs, leaning into the touch happily, purring softly at the attention.

_'How was it?'_

Era tilts his head, letting his master's fingers trail over to his ears, Spot can't change his puppy ears, so he keeps his hound ears in solidarity for his brother, it also means extra ear scratches. _'It was okay. Puri was super intimidating so they left me alone. He stood up to the older one, like he did to me the last time, and gave him the same treatment. You should have seen it.'_

The Captain chuckles softly, making sure not to wake the sleeping toddler on his chest. _'I am sure it was. Did Puri make sure you stayed in good spirits?'_

The angel hound huffs, nodding lightly. _'Puri is a jerk, but I love him that way, he keeps things lighthearted. But, Nis, you should have seen it, the older hunter tried to show Puri up and Puri completely shut him down. Like. He shut him down. Hard. Epic fail. It was glorious.'_

_'I am sure Puri showed him his place.'_

_'He did. It was amazing. He made sure they left me alone.' _He nudges his hand when his petting pauses. _'I don't mind the Winchester mother so much, she's a bit unnecessary in my opinion, seeing as she wanted her children to live a hunting free life and yet she can't get out of it. But she treats me nicely. She made sure I had food, though I think Puri being there played a part in that as well, I tolerate her more than the others, she has a semblance of a head on her shoulders.'_

_'I have some respect for her, anyone who has to deal with those three on a constant basis and retains some sense of rationality earns my respect, she knows where she stands on the food chain. More then others can say.'_

Era chooses then to change the subject. _'Did Spot miss me?'_

Nisroc nods lightly, rubbing his thumb back down the little silky ear, Spot murmurs and cuddles closer, rubbing his cheek against his chest, sucking on his thumb for a moment before he falls lax again. _'Must you ask such a ridiculous question? Of course he missed his big brother. He was all moopy, all sad and depressed, he laid in your guys bed with you bunny nearly the entire morning, watching the door for you. But we had a fun day, we played out in the grass and did some painting, then we had some lunch, and now we're having a nap.'_

Era smiles lightly, reaching out to trace a finger down the boy's nose. _'You will have to wake him soon, or he'll be awake all night.'_

_'I know, here,' _the Captain curls his fingers around the toddlers middle, lifting him slightly, and Era positions himself in such a way that the boy can be set down over him. _'Let us make you the first thing he sees when he wakes up. He missed you dearly.'_

Their moving him roused him enough that he mumbles, pulling his thumb out of his mouth to rub at his eyes with little fists, and his eyes flutter open. The moment they meet the older hounds eyes, he lights up, a large bright smile spreads over his features, and he dives forward, wrapping his arms around his older brother's neck tightly. "I missed you, Era!"

"I missed you too, puppy!" He hugs him close, burying his fingers in the messy ink black curls, scratching at the back of his head lightly. "I heard you had fun though, so that's good."

"We had lots of fun!" Spot sits up, hugging one of the older boy's hands to his chest. "We played tug of war and we painted and then we had lunch and after that we took a nap!" He hugs the hand tighter. "But I really missed you all day too! Do you have to go away again! Can you stay, please! I don't like it when you go away! Say _'no'_ next time! Don't leave again!"

"I can't so _'no' _if I'm ordered to go, Spot, but I promise to always come back." He reaches over and pats the Captain on the belly. "And, you have Nis to keep you company until I get back."

"Can I come with you then? I promise to be really good!"

Era smiles at him, leaning forward to scratch behind one of those little ears. "You're always good, Spot! You're a very good puppy! If you came with me, Nis would be all alone, and he'd get really sad. You don't want him to be sad, do you?"

The little boy shakes his head quickly. "I don't want papa to be sad!"

"Papa?" The older boy looks over at the man resting next to him, he's beaming, he loves being called _'papa' _(Era calls him that when he wants something or when he's being particularly torturous), he's absolutely beaming, shining eyes, big smile, the whole works. "When did you become _'papa'_?"

"Today, apparently." Nisroc shrugs, but his beaming expression doesn't fade in the slightly. "I'm your papa too, don't even try and play that one on me, I know you, mister." He pokes him in the side playfully and the older boy giggles lightly, edging away from him slightly. "Don't even try it."

"I wasn't trying anything!"

"Uhuh, watch it buster."

Spot giggles at them and they both look over at him, smiling at the sound of his giggling, they're both so enamored with him. "I don't like it when you leave, but I don't want papa to be sad either!"

"Then, you stay here with papa and keep him happy, and when I come back we'll be together again and we'll spend the whole day, night, morning, the whole time together."

"Okay! I can do that! I can keep papa happy while you're gone!"

"Good, and in return, papa will keep you happy too. Like he did today, you had a good day even though I was gone, right?"

He nods happily. "I had lots of fun!"

"See, so you can keep each other happy, and then when I get back, we'll be happy together again."

Nisroc chuckles softly, poking him in the side again, Era gives a sharp _'eep' _and jumps away from him. "_Papa_, you called me _'papa'_, I told you."

"Hey, hey!" He exclaims, picking the little boy up off his belly, he thrusts him over to the Captain, shoving him into his arms. "Take him, not me!"

The Power laughs softly, curling his fingers around the youngsters middle, lifting him up over his head. Spot shrieks with laughter, kicking his feet lightly, his fingers curling around the Captain's wrists. "You see that, Spot, your big brother gave you up to save himself from your papa." He lifts him up higher above his head. "Papa's gonna get you."

"Papa, no!"

"Papa's gonna get that little belly."

"No, papa, no!"

"Too late." He buries his face into that adorable little chubby belly, Spot shrieks with laughter, pushing against is head desperately, shrieking again when he shakes his head lightly, making sure to rub his beard all over that chubby little belly he so dearly loves. "Papa loves this little belly so much." He rubs his nose over the little belly button and Spot squeals softly, kicking his legs again, burying his fingers in the Power's hair. "It's my favorite little belly, and I've had the pleasure of meeting quite a few little bellies, but this one is my favorite, do you know why?" He lowers the little boy, so they're face to face, kissing him on the nose as he presses their foreheads together. "Because, it belongs to my favorite little puppy."

He lifts the boy back up when he feels the weight crawling up around him, and a head pokes up between his arms. Era grins cheekily and settles himself down over the Power's chest. "I'm your second favorite puppy, right?"

Nisroc shakes his head fondly, lowering the toddler onto the older boy's back, Spot smiles happily, curling his arms around the older boy's neck, resting his chin on his head, between his two long ears. He pokes him on the nose. "Yes, Era, you're my second favorite puppy."

"Yay!" He pumps a fist in the air. "Beat that Thaddy, Saba, and Os, second favorite goes to me!"


	251. Quality Time With The Guards

They stand so close, one would think they were standing chest to chest, or as chest to chest as they could be with their difference in height. Him and his guard are smiling at each other, him down at her, and she up at him. He flexes his fingers lightly, buried in either side of her belly, and she shrieks softly in a fit of giggles, her grips around his wrists tightening slightly. "You want to tell me what happened this morning?"

She giggles up at him when he wiggles his fingers softly again. "Teme had to climb through the window."

"And, why is that, Aesh?"

"Because," Aeshma giggles again when he flexes his fingers back in her belly. "I forgot my keys."

"What happens when you forget your keys, missy?"

"We can't unlock the door."

Thaddeus nods softly, wiggling his fingers back into her belly again, and she shrieks softly once more, leaning in closer to him, it makes it harder for him to get to her belly, but he makes it work. "And, who unlocks the door in the morning?"

"I dohoho!"

"Who is the only other one who has a key to unlock the door?"

"Yohohou!"

He stills his playful attack for a moment, and she giggles breathlessly as she stares up at him. "Who had to be woken up at five in the morning to come down and unlock the door?"

Aeshma giggles a bit harder, curling in on herself for the attack she knows is coming her way. "You did."

"That's right." He digs his fingers back in lightly. "Do you think I was happy to be woken up that early because _someone _forgot their keys?"

"Yehehes?"

He chuckles softly at her snark and wiggles his fingers again. "Try again."

…

"Teme?" He frowns when he gains no response, he knows the guard heard him, he turns around to look at him at the call of his name, but he makes no verbal reply. "Temeluch." He tries again, a bit more firmer then before, and still gains no response. "Teme, are you alright?"

It wasn't like the young guard to be so blatantly disrespectful, when one called his name, he always responded verbally. It was how he was, how he was raised, he always responded verbally to a verbal call of attention.

His frown deepens when the guard shakes his head, touching a few fingers to his throat, and his fingers flutter out silent words. They all know sign language, there's a few guards here who are deaf, some hard of hearing, some who are mute, others who have a harsh stutter. None of those ailments changed how much he cared for them. It just is what it is.

_'I cannot talk.'_

He raises an eyebrow. "You can't talk?"

Temeluch shakes his head. _'I lost my voice.'_

"You _lost _your _voice_." Thaddues raises both eyebrows. "How?"

_'Aeshma dared me to drink a glass of lemon juice.' _

"You're an idiot."

The guard smiles slightly. _'I am one of your idiots.'_

"Yea, you're one of my idiots." He smiles slightly, reaching out to ruffle his hair, patting him on the cheek lightly. "I'm going to make you some tea, peppermint tea will do you some good, it'll help sooth those vocal cords."

_'With honey?'_

"Yes, with honey."

…

"Aww, baby Sora," he scoops the puppy up out of Saba's hands, holding him up before his face, and kisses him on the snout. "Are you having one of those days?"

The little fluffy puppy barks softly, nudging his nose with his snout, and he smiles, kissing him on the snout again. "You can come with me, little guy, I have to work on a few things, but we can squeeze some cuddles in, I'm always available for cuddles." Sorath barks again softly, licking his nose lightly, rubbing his little wet nose over the tip of his nose. Smiling, he cuddles the puppy against his chest, rubbing his free hand down the back of his ear, stroking a few fingers over the silky little ears. "I'll bring him back at days end, Saba."

"Alright," the oldest guard nods, passing him the puppy's stuffed dolphin, Sora liked cuddling with it when he was in puppy form. "Take this he'll want this."

"Thank you, little guy." Sabaoth blushes lightly and nods, quickly turning around, but the Warden saw it, and he smiles because of it. "Come on, you, lets go spend some time together." Thaddeus address the puppy, tucking the dolphin under his arm, continuing his rubbing of his head and ears.

He makes his way down the hall, to his office in the back, and closes the door behind him. Cooing down at the little puppy having a rough day, he walks around his desk and sets the puppy down on the desk top, scratching a finger under his chin lightly. "I'm going to grab something real quick, I have some paperwork I have to do, and I want to hold you close." He leaves the puppy on his desk, sitting there patiently, watching him open the closet on the other wall and reach in for something. He pulls a length of fabric out, long and soft, and wraps it over one shoulder, leaving it to lie against his opposing side. He pulls it around to his front as he approaches his desk again, he tucks the stuffed dolphin into the cloth cradle that's created, and then reaches for the puppy, tucking him in with his beloved dolphin. Sorath lays down in the cloth cradle, cuddling down into the folds, against his stuffed dolphin, and barks softly, wiggling around slightly until he finds a comfortable position and settles down.

"There we go," he rubs his hands over the puppy's side, over the side of the cloth he lays in, and reaches in to scratch a finger over the top of his little head. "You try and take a nap. A nap always makes one feel better."

Sorath sighs, cuddling down, purring softly as he continues rubbing at his head. He's falls asleep with a larger sigh, dropping off into slumber, and Thaddeus smiles down at him, pulling his hand back, and curls it around the puppy mound in his cloth sling as he sits in his seat and reaches for the files of the new intakes he just sorted into cells, and he returns to filling out the paperwork, a little puppy snoring softly against his chest.

He'd take care of the little guy.

…

"Saba, can I see you for a moment?"

The oldest guard nods at his request, scratching lightly at Sorath's head, he stands from his stool when the youth pulls away from leaning back against his chest. Marmaroth replaces him, and he raises an eyebrow, not at the fact that it's Marmaroth, he's always treated Sora kindly, when he saw him playing with his cars, he'd given him some more, he liked Marmaroth and trusted him with his baby brother. But it was a sign that Thaddy was not expecting him to come back any time soon.

He follows his older brother down the hall to his office, and steps in when he beckons him to, standing there silently as he closes the door behind him, stepping in, up to him, staring into his eyes carefully. He curls his fingers around his chin and tilts his head one way and then the other, examining something he could not see, he didn't know what it was, when he looked in the mirror this morning everything seemed to look normal.

"You have bags under your eyes," he touches a finger under his left eye gently. "What's your schedule been like?"

"Well, pretty normal," Sabaoth rubs at the back of his neck lightly. "Tus has been away so I've been handling his trainees, you were away last week so I took care of things here, Sora's been acting up recently so I've been taking care of that, I've been busy, but nothing strange."

"I see," he lets go of his chin and rubs a few fingers over his cheek. "Have you been taking time for yourself?"

"I haven't really had time to, so I ju—"

"So, you haven't been taking care of yourself."

"I have to, I just ha—"

"Sabaoth," his older brother's tone takes on a firmer stance and he cringes lightly. "The bags under you eyes have bags of their own. It wasn't a question what I just said, it was a statement, I can see very well for myself that you haven't been taking care of yourself." He tugs him forward by the front of his shirt. "Come on."

Saba stumbles as he's tugged forward, the Warden pulling the door to his office open, he drags him from the room and around the corner, up the stairs to his quarters. His kids were all out doing their own thing so it would be quite up there for him, if his darling little brother wouldn't take care of himself, then he'd do it for him.

Opening the door to his room, he pulls the younger angel in, guiding him towards them bed. "Take your boots off and climb in."

"What?"

"You heard me." He tugs him around, pushing him down to sit on the edge of the bed, gesturing down to his boots. "Do as you're told, Sabaoth."

Sabaoth cringes at the use of his full name, Thaddy always calls him Saba, unless he's upset, or he's being serious, he means business, and he most certainly means business at the moment. He leans over, untying his boots, and toes them off, sitting back up again, he looks up at his older brother with tired eyes. He can't see them but the other can.

"Alright, now turn," he turns in the bed, pulling his legs up, stretching them down the length of the bed. "Lay back against the pillows." He leans back, settling down, sighing in comfort at the soft pillows under his head, supporting him in the way all good pillows should. "Now, close your eyes." His older brother sits on the edge of the bed, and he closes his eyes, sighing deeply when he feels fingers scratch softly at his head. "I'm going to sit here and scratch your head until you fall asleep, and I know you will, it always works."

He licks his lips, admitting defeat, he can't hide _anything _from his big brother. "I'm sleepy."

"I know you are, get some sleep, I'll wake you up for supper."

…

Osmadiel liked sleep. He was a sleeper, he enjoyed it, it was his favorite passed time. If he wasn't sleeping, he was cuddled up with his older brother up in the Pavilion's lounge, and soon enough put to sleep by said older brother. He slept whenever he could, wherever he was, in a number of different positions, he was the only one either of his older brothers knew who could fall asleep standing up and _not _collapse.

So, when he couldn't fall asleep, he got grumpy.

Don't let it be said that Thaddeus was not a good older brother. He knew from the start that his little brother was grumpy, he could see it from miles away, he had the eye of an eagle when it came to his baby brothers.

He knew what to do, pulling him forward, against his stomach, rubbing at his shoulders gently, working away the knots and tension, rubbing at the back of his head softly, and Osmadiel sighed deeply, relaxing under his fingers.

When the young guard relaxes completely, he pulls him back slightly smiling down at him, he pushes him back softly, gently, and rests him back against the wall. He won't move him from his position, he feared picking him would wake him up, so he set him to lean against the wall instead.

"Sleep tight, little guy."

…

The first thought that comes to mind when arms wrap around his waist from behind, and he's pulled back into someone's chest, is that it's his oldest brother, Sabaoth, because that's what he does when he sneaks up behind him.

"Saba, please." He leans back, feeling the fuzz of a beard rub against the side of his forehead. "Don't do it."

"It's not Saba." It's the voice of his boss, and he cringes, _he's _just as bad as Saba. "I saw you standing here all on your lonesome and thought you could use some company."

"I'm fine, Sir."

"_Sir?"_ Thaddeus sounds amused. "Now, I was going to let you go, but you must be punished for that."

"I'm sorry! I know you don't like it!" A smile stretches across his features as he feels a bearded face nuzzle into the side of his neck. "No! It won't happen again!"

"You're right, it won't."

"Thaddeeeieiiaaahahahahahhahaa no! Aahahahahhahahaha!"

…

"Marm, you look so tense." He hears coming up behind him. "It's making _me _sore just looking at you."

"I'm just a little tense."

"You're as rigid as stone." Hands curl around his shoulders, and he groans softly when fingers push into his lower neck, rubbing soft firm circles. "Let's get you some help." Admittedly, he does whine a bit when those hands pull away, but he tugs on his sleeve, tugging him around. "Come on."

Marmaroth follows the Warden down the hall towards his office, Thaddeus opens the door for him and he slips in, waiting for him to follow, the door clicks as it's pulled closed. "Come on, Marm." He gestures to the side, over to the comfortable little cot on the far wall. "Sit down." He's guided to sit on the edge of the bed, back facing the rest of the office, and he feels the Warden step up closer to him. He's pulled back to rest against him, and those hands curl back around his shoulders, rubbing into the tense muscles. "You just relax, I'll take care of everything."

He groans when he finds a particularly stubborn knot and falls lax against him.

"ThANKs, ThADdy."

…

"Does this little puppy miss his boy?" The little hound barks sadly, nudging his hand with his snout, licking his fingers lightly. "I know you do, but he's sick, you can't be with him right now, you might get sick too." The puppy whines again. "I know, but Zoph has the chickenpox and you haven't had it, you could contract it from him, and that's a risk me and Tus aren't willing to take."

Qaspiel whines again, nudging his hand, hopping up to rest his two front paws on his thigh, looking up at him pitifully with sad wide puppy eyes.

"Alright," he taps him on the nose. "Let's go do something." Reaching over to the bottom left drawer, he pulls the drawer open, and reaches inside. Qaspiel watches him closely, barking excitedly when he sees him pull out a brand-new tennis ball, he loves tennis balls, him and Zoph play fetch all the time. "Oh, you know what this is, don't you."

He hops down when the Warden scoots his chair back, making to stand up, and hops around when he steps out from behind his desk. "Let's go out back." He opens the office door and the puppy bounces after him, following the hand that holds the ball, his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth. Thaddeus pushes the door to the atrium open and nods for the puppy to exit, following him out, he pulls his arm back, and throws the ball a good distance away.

Qaspiel barks excitedly, chasing after the ball, zooming off as fast as he could to catch it. He jumps, snagging it out of the air before it could hit the ground, chews on it a moment, and turns, trotting back to the older angel standing before the door.

"You're a good boy." Thaddy kneels, holding his hand out for the ball, and he placed it over his palm. Bouncing back, the puppy waits anxious as he watches him closely, barking when he pulls his arm back, and darting off when he throws the ball again, chasing after it as fast as he can, catching it mid air again, he trots back to the older angel and sets it back in his hand. "We'll play for a bit, it'll wear you out some, you have too much energy."

Qaspiel barks again when he takes too long to throw the ball, and he chuckles, tossing it forward.

…

"Thaddy?" He looks up at the call of his name, and smiles, waving him into his office. "Yehudiah, I heard you were transferred." The young guard comes to stand before his desk, fiddling with his fingers lightly, nervously. "What brings you here?"

"I…Um….I miss everyone." He glances up at him cautiously, and Thaddeus smiles, nodding lightly for him to continue. "And…um…I talked to Tus and he said it was okay…..But he said you had to be okay with it too."

"Be okay with what?"

"Um…If I came back."

"Well, are you sure?"

Yehudiah nods feverishly, this was his family, he didn't want to leave his family. "I'm sure."

"Well, okay then, where to put you." He looks up quickly, staring at the Warden as he rubs a finger over his lips, and then he nods. "My littlest boy needs an escort. You'll be his escort."

He smiles brightly, his nerves fading slightly at the assignment. "Thank you, Thaddy, thank you so much!"

"Well, of course, Yehu, you're always one of mine, no matter where you go." He lowers his arm slightly. "I was going to come visit you this week, I hadn't seen you in forever, I needed to check up on my little Yehu." He stands from his chair and steps out from behind his desk, holding his arms open. "Come give me a hug, little guy, it's been so long since I've seen you."

Yehudiah smiles, stepping forward, collapsing into those arms, nuzzling in close when they curl around him. They sway from side to side lightly, and he smiles, sniffing in the pine and peppermint the Warden smells like. "I know you like hugs."

"I do." He curls his fingers into the back of the older angel's vest. "I like your hugs."

"I like giving you hugs."

The young guard smiles against his chest. "Thanks, Thaddy."

"You're welcome, little bug, but I hope you know this means that you can expect me to be coming after you." He jumps lightly when a finger pokes into his side. "It's been far too long."

…

"It's okay, Ra." He rubs her back as he reads the report from over her shoulder, she sniffles and cuddles closer, making an apt impersonation of a baby koala. "It's alright."

"I'm just so sad, Thaddy." She whines softly.

He nods, leaning over to the side to press a kiss to the side of her head lightly. "I know, you let it all out, Thaddy's got you, butterfly."

"I love you, Thaddy."

"I love you too, Ra."


	252. Reliving The Younger Years

"Tus…Something happened." Was not how he had expected his brother to greet him when they returned from their mission, he stares at him for a long moment, he seemed fine, that meant—"What happened to Sora?"

"Well, that's the thing." His older brother rubs at the back of his neck nervously. "There was a miss fire with a spell, and, well.."

"Yes, yes, and well _what_?" He steps forward menacingly. "What happened to my boy?"

Nisroc reaches behind him, a little hand curls around his fingers, and a small boy steps out from behind him, thumb stuck in their mouth. "Well, he'd been turned into a fledgling again."

He stares at the fledgling, mouth opening in shock for a moment, his eyes wide in surprise. "Sora?"

The little boy pulls his thumb out of his mouth, smiling happily, he darts away from the Captain's side and raises his arms above his head. "Papa! Missed you!"

"Sora!" He scoops the tiny fledgling up, tossing him up above his head playfully, Sorath shrieks with excitement, ordering him to do it again, and he obliges, tossing him up again. "You're so small!"

The fledgling frowns, it's adorable on his little face, shaking his head lightly. "I not small."

"Oh, yes you are." He nods, leaning in closer. "You're tiny."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Not."

He leans in closer. "Too." And buries his face into the little angel's neck. The fledgling boy shrieks with laughter, pushing against his shoulders desperately, scrunching up his little shoulder as best as he can. "Papa! Papa! I small! I small!"

"Yes, you are." The Power pulls away from his neck, pressing a quick kiss to his nose, he bounces him lightly to keep his giggles going. "But it's cute, so it's okay."

"I cute!"

"Yes, you are." He rubs their noses together, and the fledgling giggles, scrunching his face up as he leans into the rub their noses together again. "Papa take care of Sora?"

"Of course, papa will take care of Sora." He pokes him in the belly playfully. "You're my little boy, of course, I'd take care of you."

"Yay!" Sora throws his arms around his neck, hugging the Power tightly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I love you, papa!"

"I thought you'd be angry." Nisroc wipes a hand over his forehead dramatically. "Whew."

"Oh, if I didn't have this adorable fledgling in my arms, I'd be furious." He smiles down at the fledgling in his arms, kissing him on the nose again. "But I have this adorable little fledgling in my arms, so I can't be furious, because he's just so darn cute."

…

"Sora, it's time to wake up." He turns over onto his side in bed, wiggling a few fingers into the fledglings chubby belly. "We've got a big day ahead of us."

"Papa…." The fledgling bats at his hand. "Sleepin'."

"I know you're sleepin'," he pokes a finger under his little tunic, into his belly button, and the fledgling shrieks, bolting awake. "But, we have to get up."

Sorath sits up, pulling the Power's hand out from under his tunic, hugging it to his chest instead. "I help papa today?"

"You want to help me with my trainees?"

He bounces up, crawling over to sit on the Power's belly, patting his hands over his cheeks lightly. Titus chuckles softly, curling his fingers around the fledgling's hands, pulling them away from his cheeks, pressing a kiss to both palms. "Yes please, papa!"

"Well, alright then, you can help papa."

"Yay!" He claps excitedly. "Shoulders!"

"You want to ride on my shoulders too?" The older angel chuckles softly once more. "Just a bit demanding, aren't we?"

"Shoulders, papa!"

"Well, of course you can ride on my shoulders." He pokes him on the nose. "It's the best seat in the house."

"Yay!" Sorath claps again. "Let's go, papa!"

"Alright, alright, I need you to get off me first." The fledgling giggles, laying down over his chest, curling around him tightly. "Oh, you want me to pick you up, is that it?" He curls his arms around the little angel and leans over, turning over the edge of the bed, setting his feet down on the floor. Sorath giggles softly, clutching at his tunic, tucking his head under the Power's chin as he pushes himself up to his feet. Curling an arm under his bottom, Titus hefts him up just a bit higher, reaching out to pull his wardrobe open. "Alright, baby boy, should I wear my green tunic today, or my blue one?"

Sora taps a finger to his lips as he thinks between the two options. "Blue!"

"Alright, and how about for you; green or blue?"

"Blue! We matches!"

Titus chuckles softly. "We can match." And reaches in, first pulling out his blue tunic, and then the boy's blue tunic. A pair of trousers for them both, some socks, and their boots to top it off. He was thankful Puriel had saved some of his fledgling clothes, he didn't know why he did, but he was thankful for it.

"I'm going to have to set you down."

"Okay!"

He sets the fledgling to stand on the edge of his bed and sets their clothes on the edge beside him. "Arms up!" Sorath giggles, throwing his arms up over his head, chuckling, the Power reaches out to wiggle a finger into his armpits, and the boy shrieks, thrusting his arms back down. "No, arms up, little guy."

The fledgling giggles, shaking his head. "No! Arms up and tickles!"

"Okay, okay, I promise not to tickle your armpits again."

Still the fledging giggles as he throws his hands back up, Titus smiles at the sound of those giggles and reaches for the hem of his blue pajama top, pulling it up over his head, he tosses it aside and wiggles the fingers of his right hand over his chubby little belly. "I love me this chubby little belly."

"Papa!"

"I mean," he swipes him up in his arms, pressing a kiss over his little belly button. "I really love me this chubby little belly." He takes a deep breath, and blows a massive raspberry over the little belly, Sorath squeals, kicking his legs lightly. "Again." He blows another massive raspberry and the fledgling squeals again, kicking his legs, tugging at the Power's hair. "Okay, okay, we'll come back to this belly later." He sets him back on the edge of the bed. "I need to explore." He smiles at the giggling fledgling. "Okay, I promise, no more sneak attacks, arms up!" Still, despite the two sneak attacks, Sorath throws his hands up. He wiggles his fingers and the fledgling shrieks with laughter, and he smiles, reaching for the little blue tunic next to them. Slipping the tunic over his head, he helps him into his sleeves, and reaches for the trousers next, he bends over slightly, and Sorath curls his fingers around his shoulders as he steps into his pants, securing the little belt in place, Sorath plops down onto the bed and holds his little feet up for his socks. Tweaking his toes playfully, he slips his socks on, then his boots. Sorath giggles, hoping down from the edge of the bed, looking down at himself. "Wait, wait, we're not done." He turns back to the Power and Titus gathers his shoulder length hair up into a small bun on the back of his head, tying it in place, and nods, patting him on the head. "Now, we're done."

Sorath hops away, over to the side of the bed, to grab his stuffed dolphin, while the guards captain dresses himself. It takes him a few minutes, and as he's notching his belt in place, the little fledgling returns, stepping up onto his boots, wrapping his arms around his waist, his beloved dolphin clutched in his right hand.

He smiles down at him, caressing his cheeks lightly. "All ready?"

"Ready, papa!"

"Alrighty," he curls his fingers under the boy's arms and lifts him off his feet, turning him up and around to sit on his shoulders, he curls his fingers around the boy's calves. "Let's head on out."

He turns them around, walking towards the door, Sorath ducks over his head as they exit, giggling as he carries him down the hall towards the Lounge, they stop by the kitchen for a spot of breakfast, granola bars, and make their way down the stairs.

His squadron whispers to each other when their mentor appears before them, a fledgling riding on his shoulders, his arms curled down around his chin, his little chin resting on the Power's head, and in his hand, he holds a stuffed dolphin. "Alright, Paul, Andre, give us a demonstration of what we learned yesterday."

"Do I have to?"

"Do you want me to get Puri?"

"Come on, Andre, let's get this goin."

"That's what I thought."

…

"Papa!" Little hands tug at the side of his tunic, and he turns in his desk chair, scooping the fledgling up in his lap. "Papa!" Little hands pat at his cheeks until he looks down at him, smiling fondly, and kisses him on the nose. "Yes, little one?"

Sorath beams up at him. "Papa, can I paint?"

"Sure, Sora." He stands, walking over to the cupboard across from them, he always has art supplies on hand, he's pretty popular among the fledglings, his brother's say it's his disposition. He reaches into the cupboard and pulls out the tarp and paint, setting the fledgling down beside his desk, he shakes out the tarp and sets it down, Sorath takes a seat on the tarp and he passes him the paints after he unscrews the caps. With him situated, he crosses behind his desk and reclaims his chair, reaching into the middle right drawer, he passes him some paper. "Here you go."

"Thanks, papa!"

He watches the fledgling dip his fingers into the paint and smear it across the first sheet of paper happily, and he shakes his head lightly as the boy paints happily, turning back to his work. Finger paints make for an excellent babysitter.

Titus finishes his lesson plans an hour later, and turns to look down at the fledgling, chuckling fondly. "Sora, how on earth did you get paint in your _hair_?"

"Paintin, papa!"

"I can see that," he chuckles again, squatting next to him, shaking his head fondly. "You've painted yourself."

"Am I pretty, papa?"

He chuckles again, poking him on the nose. "You're adorable. A true masterpiece." He hooks his fingers back under his arms and stands, lifting the fledgling up with him. "Let's go get you cleaned up and we'll see what's for supper."

"Okay, papa!"

Titus steps over the paints, he'll clean up the mess later, and makes his way out of his office and down the hall. Taking the stairs up, he crests into the Lounge, walking passed Abraxos cooking supper, and down the hall to the washroom. Setting the boy down, he reaches for the hem of his tunic. "Alright, let's get you outta these clothes, you paint covered hooligan."

Sorath giggles as he raises his arms, shaking his head slightly as his tunic is pulled up and over, and set aside. "Alright, get out of those trousers." He shimmies his pants down, stepping out of them, he kicks them aside. "And your underpants, you silly, you can't get a bath wearing underpants." The fledgling giggles again as he pulls his dolphin covered underpants down, kicking those aside as well, Titus grabs a bar of soap and a wash cloth and kneels. "Do you need help, or can you do it on your own?"

"I can do it, papa!"

"Alrighty," he passes him the soap and washcloth. "I'll be waiting here with a towel. Don't go out too deep, you hear?"

"Okay, papa!" The fledgling darts off, picking a spot in the shallows, the water coming up midthigh. He sits down, plopping down on his bottom, creating a small splash as he does, and begins bathing himself. Titus smiles turning to the shelf next to their selection of soaps, Sorath liked the peppermint soap, and reaches for the top, where the largest and fluffiest towels are. "Done, papa!" The little boy comes running back towards him, and he catches him up in the towel, holding him against his chest.

"All clean."

"All clean, papa!"

Smiling, the Power takes the soap and wash cloth, setting them down on the middle shelf, and they make their way down the hall toward their room. "So, seeing as we don't know exactly how long this'll last, Nis did some shopping, because we needed more clothes to fit you." He pokes the fledgling on the nose. "I think you're going to like the pajamas he picked out for you."

Sorath bounces excitedly in his arms. "Yay! Wanna see!"

He turns into their room, and Titus sets him down to sit in the middle of the bed, sitting before his wardrobe is a large plastic bag, Nis had brought them back and he hadn't had the time to put them away yet. Reaching into the back, he pulls out three sets of pajamas, and turns back to the fledgling.

"Racecars," he holds up the second. "Rockets," and then the third. "Or, dolphins?"

The fledgling squeals excitedly. "Dolphins! Rockets! Racecars!"

"Which one do you want to wear?"

"All!"

Titus chuckles softly. "You can't wear them all, you have to pick one."

"Dolphins!"

"Alright, dolphins it is." He sets the other two on the shelf in his wardrobe, the door still open from this morning, and reaches back in the bag. "Look at what else he got you." He pulls out a small back of underpants and turns to show him.

Sorath squeals again, clapping his hands happily. "Dolphins!"

"That's right, dolphin underpants, you've got some rocket ship underpants too."

"Yay!"

"He got you lots of things with dolphins and rockets and racecars on it."

"Yay!" Sorath claps again. "I like those!"

He smiles, pulling the bag open to snag out a pair of underpants, and looks up at the fledgling as he approaches. "I know you do, baby boy." He sets the dolphin pajamas on the edge of the bed and holds his hands out. "Come here, you." Sora takes his hands, and he tugs him up, over to him at the edge of the bed.

First things first, they start with the underpants, and he pulls them up after he steps into them. Then, they move on to the pajama pants, pulling them up once he steps into them, and lastly they make their way to the top, he tugs it down over his head and helps guide his arms through the sleeves. "All warm and snug?"

"Yes, papa!"

"Alright," he scoops the fledgling up, wiggling his fingers over his belly, Sora giggles and leans into him. "Let's go see what's for supper."

"Nuggies!"

"Well," Titus pokes him on the nose and turns towards the door. "Let's go see what Abe made."

"Nuggies!"

"We won't know until we see."

The crest the end of the hallway and stop beside the counter. Abraxos smiles at them as he flips a homemade hamburger over the grilling rack.

Sorath smiles back and leans forward. "Unca Abe make nuggies?"

Abraxos smiles at him again. "Uncle Abe made you nuggies."

"Yay! Nuggies!" He leans up again, Titus lifts him slightly, Abraxos leans over just a smidge, and the fledgling kisses him on the cheek. "Thanks, Unca Abe!"

"You're welcome, little guy."


	253. Sharing Of A Secret

"He _what_?"

Nisroc chuckles, taking a bite from his apple, and tosses two cards down on the table. Abraxos groans and takes two from the pile, shuffling through his own hand, he throws one down, looking over to the medic for him to place his down. "Yea, he likes it, took me a minute, but I got him to admit it."

Puriel stares at him, seemingly forgetting that it's his turn, too overcome by this revelation. "You _waited _this _long _before telling me?"

"Well, I needed his permission first. He's kind of embarrassed about it. But he said I could tell."

"Nis, I _love _giving tickles!" He lets his mouth hang open for a moment. "How could you not tell me this about my boy!"

"Our boy." The oldest Power shuffles his cards around and takes another bite from his apple. "And, I know you do, Sablo tells me _all_ about it."

_"Our _boy." Puriel shrugs unaffected. "He's much too sensitive about that."

"I just told you," his Captain nudges him with his foot and he looks down at the pile, throwing a single card down, and Nisroc looks over his hand, picking up three cards, before setting his own down, and taking another bite of his apple. "I would have told you sooner, but he just said he was okay with you all knowing."

"I can see why he'd be embarrassed." Abraxos adds his two sense into the conversation he had otherwise just been happy to listen to. "But I personally think it's adorable. I mean, he _loves _laughing, so it makes sense. I can't wait to take advantage of this knowledge. He has to know we're going to come after him with this admission." He picks a card from the pile and throws it down over his older brothers. "As his uncles, it's our right."

Puriel checks his hand, takes up four cards, and throws two over the other pile. "I can't believe it! Someone right under my nose! I love it!" He throws his hand down. "I quit!" And pushes his chair back, rising to his feet quickly, he was going to take advantage of this knowledge as much as he liked.

His older brother chuckles again. "Don't kill him."

He's already three steps down. "I make no promises."

He turns the corner to the training barracks, making his way down to his little brother's barrack, he turns the corner and enters. His eyes zone in on the boy he's after immediately, sitting on the lower bunk, topless, elbows resting on his knees as he listened to his Mentor's lesson. Titus looks over when he notices the turning attention of his squadron, and smiles at the sight of his older brother, turning towards him slightly. "Puriel, did you need something?"

"Yes, I need Paul." He smiles at the boy as he raises an eyebrow, nodding when he points at himself, and gestures him forward. Titus nods lightly, nodding at the boy in question, and he stands from his place on the bunk, worming his way between his bunk mates, and came to stand before the medic, wondering if he had done something wrong, something he couldn't remember. "I'm taking him for the rest of the night."

"Alright, that's fine." His brother nods and turns back to his squadron, returning to his lesson, and he guides the youngling from the room.

Paul looks up at him as they turn the corner, tugging on his sleeve lightly. "Puri, am I in trouble?"

"No." He looks down at him, stopping in his stride forward. "Should you be?"

"I don't think so." He shrugs lightly. "It's just that you guys never pull me from my lessons."

"Oh, Tus is just recapping when he went over yesterday evening, nothing to worry about, you're not missing anything new." He smiles down at him playfully, turning towards him more directly. "Your papa told me something very interesting just now."

"Oh, yea, what did he tell you?"

Puriel leans over, whispering in his ear, just because he was okay with them knowing didn't mean he was okay with anyone else knowing. "That you like being tickled."

The boy pushes his chest lightly, his fingers curling in his tunic, looking around nervously. "_Sshhh! Not so loud!"_

"Calm down, no one's around to hear me."

"_Still! Keep it down!" _Paul looks up at him and his eyes widen at the glint that shines in his secondary guardian's eyes. "What are you planning."

"I'm not sure yet." He admits, capturing one of his wrists in his hand, he kneels, tugging the boy up over his shoulder. "Let's go somewhere more private and see where the night takes us." He carries him down the hall, and he turns up the stairs, taking them up slowly and steadily.

Nisroc and Abraxos are still playing their card game at the table as he steps up into the Lounge, the young boy hanging over his shoulder, and they smiles as he walks passed them, carrying his passenger with him.

He hears his Captain call out to him as he makes his way down the hall. "Seriously, Puriel, do _not _kill him."

"I won't hurt him, calm down, old man!"

"What did you just call me?"

"Nothing!" He closes his door quickly, standing on the other side in silence, straining to hear any possibility of footsteps coming down the hall towards them. When he hears nothing he sighs in relief, stepping further into his room, and pats the youngling on the bottom. "That could have been bad."

Curling his fingers into the boy's inner thigh, he rests there, and feels fingers curl into the back of his tunic when he tenses up in preparation. "Pauly, this is amazing news!"

"You're…You're not disgusted!"

"Heck no! I love giving tickles! To know that you like it makes it even better!" He wiggles his fingers into the meaty flesh lightly and the boy shrieks, pounding a fist against his back, he carries on for a couple moment and stops. "If you ever want tickles, all you need to do is ask, we can even come up with a code word if that makes you feel better, but, I'm more then happy to oblige the desire for tickles." He wiggles his fingers in again and the boy shrieks once more, jerking his leg feverishly in his grasp, his attempts at escape were only halfhearted, and it made his heart soar. "Tickles are my favorite thing in the world! I love that you love them!" He spiders his fingers up and down his under thigh and the boy squeals softly, tugging at his tunic lightly, pounding his fists against his back softly. "I love thigh tickles and belly tickles and armpit tickles. I love it all." Digging his fingers into the boy's inner upper thigh, Paul squeals again, tugging harshly on the back of his tunic, jerking his leg around under his hand.

He pulls away from the youth's thigh, for a moment, he'll come back to it, and leans over the edge of his bed, tugging the boy forward, down from over his shoulder. Paul shrieks softly as he falls, only having time to catch his bears before the medic is crawling up over him, straddling his waist, he curls his fingers under his arms and pulls him up onto the king sized bed completely, then he lays over him, his arms resting at his sides.

Giggling, the youngling watches him closely, the medic is smiling that same smile that means impending doom. "I'm going to tickle you. Until it drives you crazy. A good old-fashioned tickle torture. Getting all those little spots I _know _will drive you up the wall." Paul giggles harder at his words, the gentle teasing for what's about to happen, the teasing always makes it worse. "I've known you almost all your life. I know which spots to go for to get the best reactions." He pokes his index fingers into his sides, wiggling them softly, and the boy giggles harder, squirming from side to side. "I know all the little ways to get you really going. All the little things you can't stand. I know all about you. I helped raise you, of course I do." He smiles at him playfully. "But, where to start?"

He wiggles his two fingers up over his lower belly, on either side of his belly button, and his giggles pick up to soft bright peals of laughter. "Oh, am I getting close to a giggle spot?" He inches his fingers closer to his belly button and his laughter picks up even more. "I am, aren't I?" Paul shakes his head frantically, denying the obvious, but his eyes shined with a different response to his playful question. "I'm getting closer, I can see it, I can hear it." He inches just a bit closer again and the boy shrieks, arching his back under him, trying to dislodge his fingers. They don't move, they stay right where they are, and the boy shrieks with laughter. "It's right here." He pokes a finger into the boy's belly button, and he squeals brightly, arching his back again, reaching down finally to curl his fingers around the medics hand. But he doesn't try to tug it away, he merely holds onto it, clutching at his wrist tightly. "I found it!"

"Aahahahahhahahaha ahahahhahahahahhaa! Puhuhuhuhuhuhuhurrhihihihihi! PURI! Aahahhahahaha hahaahahahahahhaa! Nohohohohhohoho! Gehehehheet ihihihihihit ohohhohohuhuhuut! Aahahahhahahahaha hahahahahahaha!"

"I don't think so." He wiggles his finger around lightly and the boy cackles with laughter. "Remember when you were little, and we used to play these games, I had lots of fun with you, remember one of the things I always told you?"

Paul shrieks with laughter, shaking his head frantically, shimmying from side to side as he tried to shimmy out from under his torturous finger.

"You don't remember?" He pulls his finger out of his belly button and flutters his fingers over his belly, digging his fingers into the slightly pudgy flesh just beside his belly button. "I think you do, what was it I always told you?"

Paul shakes his head again. "Noohohohohoho!" He knows what he wants to hear, and he knows what will come when he says it, he'll only say it under duress of torture. Or, in this case, worst torture. "I wohohohhohohoon't sahahahhahay ihihihihihit!"

"You'll say it." He digs his fingers into his lower belly, just above his waistline, and Paul squeals again. "What was it I said, say it, say it Pauly."

"Aahahhahahahhaa ahahahahhahahaha! Nohohohohot thehehehehehere! Ahhahahahahhahaha hahahahahahha! Nohohohhohohohohoooo!"

"Say it, I'm going to get you to say it, say it Pauly." He flutters his fingers all over the shaking belly surface, and the boy shrieks with laughter, jumping from side to side as his fingers perform a tickly dance over his sensitive skin. "Say it!"

"Aahahahahhahaha hahahahahhahahaa! Hahahahaha ahahahahahaha! IhIhIhIts yohohhoohuhuhuhurs! Yohhhohoohohohouhuhuhuhurs!"

"What's mine, Pauly?" He dips his finger back into his belly button and the boy squeals again. "Tell me what's mine."

"Behehehehelly! BELLY! Eieiieahahahahahaha aahahahhahahahha!"

"Yes, yes, it is my belly." He rests his arms back along the boy's side and bends down, pressing a kiss to the shaky belly. "I love my belly." He kisses it again, a tad more playfully, and Paul giggles these high pitched adorable little giggles. "I don't get to spend as much time with it as I used to. It's a shame. I always loved this belly." He playfully kisses it again. "Maybe even more then I love Sablo's belly, and I really love that belly, but this one is my favorite, it has the best giggles in it." Taking a deep breath, he buries his face into the belly under him, right over the belly button.

Paul's eyes widen before it happens, spontaneously, without warning. "EEIEIIAIAAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAA! NOHHOHOHHOHOHO! EIIEIEIEAIAHAHAHAHHHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHAHA! NOT THOSE! NOHOHOHOHOT THOHOHOHOSE! EEIEIAAIAAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!"

"What?" He pulls away slightly. "No berries?"

"Nohohohohho!"

"Yes, berries, lots and lots of berries."

"EIEIEIAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA! PUHHUHUHUHURRRIHIHIHIHIHIHI! EIEIEIAIAIHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHHAHAH EEIEIEIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA! NOHOHHOHHO! EEEIAIIAAIHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHAHA! NOHOOHOHOHHO BEHEHEHEHEHERRIEIEHHEHES! EIEIEIAIAAHAHAHHAHAHHA AHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!"

"A berry here."

"EIEIEAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!"

"And, a berry here."

"EIEIAIAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHA!"

He looks up at him, smiling playfully. "You like berries, don't you?"

"Nohohoho!"

"Yes, you do, I know better." He winks at him. "You do like it." He takes a deep breath, dramatically puffing his cheeks up, and slowly lowers head, they both know it's simply to go along with the moment, but Paul braces his hands against the Power's head, pushing as much as he can against him, trying to keep him from his belly, from blowing out that berry, and he tenses in anticipation, knowing that it's going to happen despite his lazy attempts at stopping it. Puriel presses face into his belly, his lips over his belly button, and rests there.

Paul cackles in anticipation, sucking his belly in as much as he can, falling still as he waited.

"EEIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAA AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! NOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHRHRRHHEEHEHEHHE! EIEIAAIHAAHAHAHHAHA AHAHAHAHHA AHHHEHEHHAHAHAHHA! NOHOHHHOHOHO! NOOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHE BUHUHUHUHUTTONNN! EIEIIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA HAHAHAHAHHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NO! NOHOHOHOHOHO! EIEIIEAIAHAAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAA! NOT AGAIN! NOOHOHOHOHOT AHAHAHHAHAHAGAGIAIAINAHAHAH! EIIEAIAIHAAHAHAHHAHA AHAHAHAHHHAHA HAHAHAAHAHAHAHA!"

"Not the button?" He looks up at the boy, smiling brightly at the mess he was making, what a way to end the day, so much better then having to sit through boring lessons. "But the button is the best spot." He looks down at the belly under him, poking a finger at his belly button, this is his favorite giggle spot. His second favorite is the armpits. If you knew how to play your cards right, you could make them a giggling shrieking mess, and he knew how to play his cards perfectly. "Who are you to tell me what I can do to my belly?" He curls his fingers around the boy's wrists this time, to leave the halfhearted attempts at dissuading his attack, and looks down at the belly again. "Now, because you tried to boss _me _around, you have to be punished."

"Puri, no! Bad! Bad Puri! No! Bad boy! Bad! No-no! Bad dog! Bad!"

"Do you think I'm sort of hound?" He chuckles. "Now, you're really going to get it."

"No! Bad! BAD! EEIEIAIAHAHAHAHHAA HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! BEHEHEHHEHERRIIEHEHEHEHEHES! EIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHA AHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHOHOEEIEIIEAAHAAHAHAHAHAHHAAHA! AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I'M NOT SORRY! EEIEIAIAAIHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHHAHA! BAHAHAHAHAD DOOHOHOHOHOG! BAD DOG! EIEEIIEAIHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHO EIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA WAIT EIEIAIAIAIAAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! OKAY OKAY EIEIEAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHIIIEIEAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! I AM EIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA I'M SOOHOHOHOHORRY EIEIEIAIIAIIAIAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I'M SORRY! YOHOHHOUUHUHUHUHUR EEIEIAIIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHA YOU'RE AAAHAHAHAHHAHAA IEIEIEIIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAA YOU'RE NOT A DOG! EIEIAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA PURI EIEIAIAIAIIAIAHAHAHHAHAA STOHOHHOHOHOHOP EIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAAHAHA!"

"Are you ever going to call me a _'bad dog' _again?"

"Maybe." He sucks in a breath and the boy squeals. "Eieiieahahahahahaha nohohohohhoo! NO! NEVER!"

"Good boy," he pokes him on the nose. "Good dog." Puriel curls his hands over his abused belly and rests his chin on the back of his fingers. "I'll give you a break because I'm nice." Paul continues to giggle adorably, and he smiles at the sound of it, reaching up to poke him on the nose again. "Are you okay?"

He knows the boy is blushing because his ears turn a deep red, his face is already red, it was a brutal attack. "It's….It's fun…"

The Power chuckles softly. "I'm happy you're having fun, I hoped you were."

"Thanks for not being disgusted."

"Hey, of course not, you're like a second son to me. I helped raise you since you were a fledgling running around all over the place." He strokes a finger down his nose. "You want to know a secret, only one other person knows, you wanna know it too?"

Paul nods lightly, he likes knowing secrets, he's good on keeping it to himself.

"I mess with your papa all the time because I know he'll get me back. I like it too."

"You like being tickled too?"

He nods gently. "I do. I like to laugh, just like you do, it makes me feel better, especially on tough days. Only your papa knows. That's why he always gets me back with tickles. I'd be a hypocrite if I were disgusted with you for it."

"That makes me feel better, knowing that you like it too, it makes me feel less weird."

"You're not weird because you like something, and if liking that makes you weird, then I'm weird too, a few people I know are weird then too."

"Papa knows you like it?"

"He does." Puriel nods lightly. "I feel comfortable enough now to tell him if I want tickles."

"You do?"

"Mhm, we have a secret word, if I say that word, he knows it means I want tickles."

Paul smiles slightly, knowing someone close to him, his second parent, liked the same thing he liked. "Can we have a secret word, too?"

"Sure we can, what should our secret word be?"

"What's your secret word?"

"Our secret word is _'sparrow'_."

The boy hums softly. "Can that be our secret word too?"

"Of course, it can."

Paul smiles brightly. "Thanks, dad." Puriel smiles at him in return, pressing a kiss to his belly, making him giggle again. "You're welcome, baby boy." Paul continues to giggle at him, and he knows what that means, it makes him smile at it, but there's one more thing he has to address. "Do you want me to tell your papa that there's a secret word?"

He nods. "Mhmm." His smile widens slightly. "Sparrow."

It makes him chuckle softly. "You're ready for more?" The boy nods, smiling brightly, and who is he to deny that happy smile anything. "Alright, I'm always ready for more, give me that hand." He catches the boy's right hand, twining their fingers together, he lifts his arm up above his head as he scoots himself forward, looking down at the exposed armpit. "Let's see what we have here, who does this little armpit belong to?"

"Papa!"

He wiggles a finger into the hollow and the boy shrieks brightly. "Who else does it belong to?"

"Hehehehehhhehe! You!"

"That's right, it's mine to, to do whatever it is I want with." He twirls a finger around the outside of his armpit, twirling it down into the hollow, and wiggles his finger lightly. It drives the boy nuts, from boisterous giggles to bright peals of laughter. "I can give it twirlies, or berries, or flutters, I can give it anything I want." He flutters his fingers over the exposed armpit, and the boy shrieks with laughter, tugging on his arm, pressing his cheek against his bicep. "I think we'll start with some flutters and see where it takes us from there." He looks down at the armpit under him as he flutters his fingers around it, chuckling softly at the shrieks and squeals of laughter it brings out for him, over the bright peals of laughter, he hears a knock on his door, and he looks up, not stopping his assault in the slightest. "Come in."

His door opens, and Abraxos pokes his head in, smiling a soft goof smile, and nods to the boy he's currently in the process of destroying. "We heard him down the hall and wanted to come investigate."

"_Investigate?_" Titus's voice pipes up from behind him, both of them speaker louder then usual to be heard over the boys cackles, they die into silence at the edge of the stairs, but everyone up here can hear them. "I came to join in, I don't know about you, but that boy gives me as much trouble as he can during training, I came to seek my revenge."

Abraxos nods lightly. "Okay, yea, I wanted to join in too."

"Well, sure," he nods his head, tossing it to the side to indicate that they can come in, and they both creep in, Titus closes his door behind him. It muffles the shrieks and squeals just a little bit from the outside. "Nis said to remind you not to kill him."

"He's such a worry wart. I'm not going to kill my second son. I'm only going to destroy him a little bit."

Both Titus and Abraxos kick off their boots, the older of the two climbs up above the boy's head, capturing his wrists, pulling his hand out of the medic's and pulls them up over his head. Puriel scoots over slightly as Titus stretches out beside him, trapping his right leg under him as the medic traps the left leg. "You know, now that I know he likes it, his behavior makes a lot more sense."

"Doesn't it!"

Paul squeals when his Mentor, and Uncle, flutter five of his fingers over his other armpit. They carry on with their flutters for a couple of minutes and talk amongst each other, as though they don't have a squealing squirming mess under their fingers.

They pull their hands away at the same time. "So what should we do now?"

Abraxos smiles down at the panting boy, meeting his eyes, he winks playfully. Don't let him fool you, his most quiet Uncle is rather vindictive and torturous, he just hides it well. "How about some berries?"

"Oh, that sounds like a splendid idea, what do you say Tus?"

"Well, there's one very important question before we do that."

"What would that be?"

His mentor looks down at him, smiling softly, as their eyes lock and the boy continues to giggle breathlessly. "Did you wash under here before your lessons?"

"Guess you'll have to find out." Is the cheeky reply.

"I could just assume you didn't and get a bucket and a scrub brush." Paul's eyes widen and he nods frantically. "I did! No need for that! All nice and clean!"

"Alright, sure, I'm down with the berries."

"Cool, ready?"

They both take a deep breath, puffing up their cheeks, and Paul shrieks with laughter, looking between them both frantically as their heads slowly lower. "No! Not at the same time! That's not fair! It's not fair! No! NO! Get away! Not both! NOT BOTH!"

Both of them press into his armpits, holding their breath for a moment, just letting him stew in the bright peals of anticipatory laughter.

"EEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AAAAAHHAHAHAHHHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAA! NO! NO WAIT! EEIIEIEAIHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!" The boy throws his head back, screaming and squealing with laughter, his dad and his uncle continue to blow their berries, and his other uncle laughs softly above his head at his predicament. "EEIEIIAIAIAAIAAAAAAAHHHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NO! NONONO! EEEIEIEIAIAIAAIAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! WAIT EIEIAIAAIAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAA ITS NOT FAIR EEEIAEIAIAIAIAHAAHAHAHAAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOT TOGETHEREEIEIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAH EIEIEAIAIAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA! STOP EEIEIIAIAAIAIIAHAHAHAHAHHAHA STOHOHOOHHHOOP EEIIEAIIAIAAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!"

"Oh, no," Titus pulls away slightly, Puriel follows him, fluttering his fingers back over his armpit. He watches his uncle but shrieks with laughter because of his dad. "I'm giving you as many berries as I want because you're such a pain in my ass all the time. I'll teach you to listen to me. Even if we have to do this every night. I'm not above it."

"You're a jerk who deserves it! Taskmaster!"

"Oh ho, you're just digging yourself a deeper grave mister, your papa only said not to kill you, he never said he was coming to your rescue."

"I can take you on myself!"

"Oh really?" He flutters his fingers over the armpit in his captivity. "All I have to do is flutter my fingers over this armpit and you're lost, I've already won, and you think you can take me?"

"Yehehehes! Yohohhou're ohohohoold!"

"Oh, now you get extra berries."

"You know," Puriel pauses and they both look over at him. "If he's calling you old, and I'm older then you, then he's calling me old too."

"Berries?"

"Berries."

Abraxos chuckles above him as they fly back down to his armpits and blow their massive berries. "EEIEIIEAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHHHAHAHAHHAHAA EEIEIIEAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOT AGAIN EIEIEAIAIIAAIHAAHHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHHAAHAHHA NO EEEIIAIIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH NO STOP EIEIEAIIAIAIAIHAAHHAHAHAHAHA ITS NOT FAIR EIEIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHHAHAA NO FAIR EIEIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I'M SORRY EIEIEIAIAAAHAHAHAHAHA SO SORRY EEIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! YOU'RE NOT OLD EEIIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA TAKE IT BACK EIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHAIIAIAIIAHAEHEHHEHEHHEHEHE I TAKE IT BACK! PLEASEEEIIEAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA PLEASE EEIAIIAAHAHAHHAHAHAHA PLEASE FORGIVE ME!"

"Should we forgive him, Puri?"

"Nah, I think he needs more berries."

"NO! NO WAIT! WAIT! EEIIEAIAAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHHA! NO MORE! EEIIIAIAIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAA AHAHAHAHHAHAHAA WAIT WAIT WAIT EIEIAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAH AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEASEEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHHAHAHAHA EIEIAIAIHAHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHAHAA PLEASE FORGIVEEIEIIEAIAHAAHAHAHAHHAA AAHAHHAHAHAHA PLEASE FORGIVE MEEIEIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAH FORGIVE ME! EEIIEAIAHAHAHAHHAA HAHAHAHAHAHAHA I'M SORRY EEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA SOOOO SORRY EIEIEIAIAAHAHAHAHAHHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA EIEIEAIIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAH! NO MORE EIEIIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEASE PLEASEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHHAHAHAA NO MORE BERRIEIEIAEIAHAHAHAHHAHAHHA NO MORE BERRIES!"

"Armpits are the best place for berries."

"Do you think he's had enough, should we forgive him now, he did say sorry."

Abraxos shakes his head, leaning back against the headboard of the bed, the youngling's hands securely trapped in his fingers. "I don't believe him one bit. I think he needs a few more berries to make sure he means it."

"I MEAN IT! I DO! I SWEAR! YOU'RE NOT OLD! WAIT! WAIT NO! I SAID I WAS SORRY! WAIT NO PLEASE! PLEASE I MEEEIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA! EIEIEIIAHAHAHAHAHHAA NO EIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHA I MEAN IT EEIIEAIAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA I SWEEIEIAIAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHA I SWEAR! EIEIEIAHAHAHAHAHAHHA PLEEHEHEEHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAA PLEASE PLEEIEIEIIEAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA PLEASE! I SWEEIEIAIAAIHAAHAHAHAHHAAHAHA I SWEAR I DO EIEIEIAIIAAHAHAHAHAHAHA AAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHA! PLEEIEIEIAIAIAAAHHAHAHAHAHAH PLEASE BELIEEIIEIEAHAHAHAHHAHAHA AHAHHAHAHAHA BELIEVE MEEIEIAIAIHAAHAHHAHAHAHA! PLEASE BELIEVE ME! EIEIAIAIAAHAHHAHAHAHHAA I CAAHAHAHHAHAHAAIAIIAIAIAHHAHAHAHAHA I CAN'T TAKE EIEIEIIAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAA IT! I CAN'T TAKE IT! EEIIEAIIAAIAHAHHAHAHAA WAIT WAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA WAIT WAIT EIEIAIIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Do you think he's learned his lesson?"

"I think so."

"A few more berries just to be sure."

"Just a few."

"WAIT NO! NO MORE! I CAN'T TAKE IT! I LEARNED MY LESSON! YOU'RE NOT OLD! I TAKE IT BACK! I TAKE IT BACK I SWEAR! WAIT NO! NO! PLEASE! PLEASE NO! GET AWAY! GET AWAY FROM THERE! GEEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAA AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA EIIEIEAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA GET AWAY EEEIAIIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA NOT THERE EIEIEIAIAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA! I LEAIAIIAIAIAAAHHAHAHAHAHHAA I LEARNED MY LESSON EEIEIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAH NO MOREEIEIAIHAAHHAHAHAHAHA NO MORE PLEASE EEIIEIIEIAIHAHAAHAHHHAHAA I CAN'T TAKE IT EEIIEAIIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA IT TICKLES! EIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAA IT TICKLES SOEIEIIEIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA IT TICKLES SO BAD EEIEIAIAAIHAHAHAHAHAHHA! NOT BOTH EEIEIEIAIAAHHAHAHAHAA NOT BOTH AT THE SAME TIME EIEIIEIEIAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHHAHAA EIEIIEAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE! PLEASE AEIEIIEIIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA DAHAHAHHAHAHHAD EIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHHA UNCLE TUS EEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAHA PLEASE AHAHAHHAHA EIEIEIIAAIAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!"

"Okay, I think he's learned his lesson."

"Me too."

And then, of course, because he's mean, Abraxos adds into the conversation. "Perhaps we should tell his papa he called us old, I mean, he's the oldest out of us all, that means he'd be calling him ancient."

"Oh, that's a great idea, Abe."

"I knew I was happy you were here."

Abraxos lets go of his wrists and he thrusts his arms down, covering his armpits just in case of any sneak attacks, shaking his head frantically. He calls his papa old all the time, he knows how much he hates being called old, papa would kill him. For all he's telling them not to, he'd do it, he'd kill him. He goes ignored though, as his uncle slides off the bed, trotting towards the door. "I'll be right back."

They wait patiently for his return, poking him playfully anywhere the can reach, just to make him a breathless giggling mess. The door opens a couple minutes later, someone enters, two someones judging by the foot falls he hears, and the door clicks shut again. His giggles die down, they stop poking him, and his eyes widen when his papa appears.

He smiles down at him, tilting his head to the side, taking in his red face. "What's this I hear about you calling me ancient?"

"I did not!"

Abraxos appears at his papa's side, elbowing him lightly, and he turns to look at him. "He called us old, since you're the oldest, he basically called you ancient."

"I didn't mean you though, papa! Not you!"

"I see," the Captain, his papa, his best friend in the whole world, looks back down at him. "So you think I'm old, huh?"

"Well, I mean, you _do _have gray hairs." Paul smirks up at him, despite his precarious position, he doesn't always have a brain to mouth filter, it costs him dearly. "You gray fox."

"Oh, ho, okay, we're going to be that way." He nods lightly, uncrossing his arms, to poke him in the nose as he leans over him. "And, for the record, I have gray hair because of _you_." Nisroc smirks at him too, it's different then his smirk, it sends a slight wave of chills down his spine and turns to Uncle Abraxos beside him. "Abe, have you had a go yet?"

"I have not."

"Would you care to join me at the toes?"

"No! Wait! Papa! Not the toes! Not there! Not that! I didn't mean it!"

"I would be glad to join you at the toes."

"After you, I'll take the left and you take the right."

"No! Wait! Not the toes! No toes! Leave them alone! No! No, papa! Uncle Abe! Don't do it!"

Titus and Puriel sit up, turning to watch their brothers, and he's left staring at their backs as his papa and uncle Abe disappear on their other side. He feels them grab his ankles, fingers curl around just under his toes, and he tenses, waiting for what's about to come.

Toe nibbles are the worst.

Especially toe nibbles from papa. Because, he has a beard.

"Aahahahhahahahaha eiieieiahahahahahahahaha wait waiahahahahhahaait! Eieiaiahahahhahaha not the toes eieieiahahahhahahahaha! Papa no! Eieiaiaahahahhaa no eieieaiaiahahahhaa not the beard eeiiaiaiaaiaiaiahahahahhahahahaa not that ahahahhahahahahaha!" he cackles, squealing with laughter as they assault his toes, and he sits up, throwing himself forward, kicking his legs as he tugs on uncle Tus's and dad's shoulders, trying to pull himself free. "Aahahahahahha eieieiahahahahahah wait wait aahahahhahahaha eieiaiahahahhahaha not the beard eeieiaiaihahahhaha papa no eieieiaiaahahahahhaa! Not the toes ahahahahahhahaha eieiieahahahahahhaha not nibbles ahahahahahaa eieiieiaiahaahhahahahahaa I learned my lesson eeieiaihaahhahaha hahahahahahah! I swear! Eeieaiaahahahhahahahaa please ahahahhahahahahaha eiieaiahahahahahhahaa I swear I did! Ahahahhahahahhahhaa! I can't take it eieieiaiahahahahaha hahahahahaha I can't take it eieiaihahahahahaha ahahhahahahahha!"

His papa pulls away, but Uncle Abe doesn't. "So, you don't think I'm old?"

"Nohohohoho! Eieiaiaihahahahha ahahahahahahha! Uncle Abe eieieiieiaaihahahahahhaa please ahahahahahhahaa! It tickles eiieieiaahhahahahahhaa not the toes ahahahahahha eieiieaihahahahahaha please!"

"Alright, because you said please, and I think you learned your lesson."

He giggles breathlessly when they all pull away, dad and uncle Tus stand from his sides, papa and uncle Abe pull away from his feet, and he watches papa cross around the side of the bed, leaning over, he pulls him towards him, curling one arm under his knees and the other around his shoulders, he hefts him up from the bed. "Come on, you little giggle monster, we'll go relax in the Lounge together."

Paul leans his head against his shoulder, smiling up at Uncle Tus when he reaches out to poke his nose. "Lord knows we don't get to do it very often anymore."

"Puri bring your blanket."

"Right, got it."

They make their way down the hall as a small caravan, settling down in the Lounge when they reach their destination papa settles down first, dad beside him, Uncle Abe at his side, and Uncle Tus at Uncle Abe's side. Papa rests his head in his lap, as he stretches out over the other members of his family. Uncle Tus takes hold of his right foot, pushing his thumb into the arch, massaging gently, dad and Uncle Abe wrap the blanket around him, and papa scratches at his head lightly, he sighs, he loves his family, their cruel sometimes, a bunch of tickle monsters when you really got to know them, but he loves them just the way they are.

"Take it easy, little guy." He looks up at papa, and he smiles down at him, brushing his finger down the bridge of his nose. "We've got ya."

Paul yawns a big yawn and cuddles down over his family. "I think I'm gonna take a nap."

"You do that, you must be spent after all that, I'll move you to my bed later."

"Okay, papa."


	254. The First Session

Jaleel blinks awake, the sun set in the sky outside the window particularly that it indicated it was around ten in the morning, she yawns, her body waking up, and stretches as she sits up. It's a Tuesday morning, Orion and Gzel are gone already, Ak would be downstairs working, and she could spend her day working on her new portrait of her Guardian.

"I was about to wake you up." She jumps slightly at the sound of his voice, clearly not expecting it, and turns to look at him with wide surprised eyes. Akriel smiles at her and closes the book he was reading, tossing it to lie on the bed next to him, and scoots his chair closer. "I gave you some time to get used to your new surroundings and rules, it's not easy to assimilate into a new norm, it's been a few weeks." He crosses his arms loosely over his chest, a sign that he was still in charge, but not domineering. "It's time for us to have our first session."

"Ak." She covers her face with her hands. "Do we have to?"

"We do."

She lets her hands fall into her lap, and she crawls out from under the blankets, stretching her legs out as she stretched again where she sat. "I really don't want to."

"I know." He uncrosses his arms and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, he knows she'll fight against it as much as she can, no one in her position likes talking things through. But he's undeterred, he's had plenty of patients who can be stubborn about their sessions, he knows plenty of ways to get them going. "But we made a deal, I'd get you out of that hospital and you had to talk to me every morning, and I don't allow my deals to be broken, so we need to talk."

Jaleel curls her fingers together and looks down to her hands. "I don't want to talk."

"I know, but we have to, it was our deal."

She looks up at him. "Will you take me back if I don't follow through?"

"Yes." No. He would not. But, she didn't need to know that. "If you won't uphold your end of the deal then I won't uphold mine."

"But…Ak." Jaleel groans softly and covers her face with her hands again. "I don't…..I don't know _how _to talk about. I don't know where to _start_. I don't know _what _to say."

"Well, luckily for you, I know all about those road blocks, this isn't my first trip around the mulberry bush. There's many ways we could break that ice, there's always two that I go to first, and if those don't work, we try the other ways."

"What are the first two?"

"Well, the first one is writing, you get a journal, and you write down everything that comes to mind, I read the journal, and we talk about what you wrote."

The teen nods. "What's the other one?"

He smiles. "Well, that ones my particular favorite, I chose what we talk about, and I _entice _you to talk about what I've decided we talk about."

"Oh, yea," she tilts her head slightly. "You sound so sure of yourself." Leaning back on her hands, she stares at him for a moment. "What do you mean _'entice'_?"

"Oh," he smiles at her softly. "I was hoping you'd ask; I've wanted to try this for some time on you." He reaches out, wiggling a few fingers over the foot that's closest to him, smiling when she shrieks lightly, tugging her foot away. "Oh, is my toughest girl just a wee bit ticklish?" He reaches for her other foot, wiggling his fingers over the sole lightly, and she shrieks again, pulling that foot away too. "So, do you want to do the journal way or the enticing way, I'm okay with either one."

She giggles lightly, curling her arms around her knees, keeping her feet nearly tucked under her. "Can we do both?"

"Sure, I can get you a journal, I have plenty of unused composition books." He leans over, looming over the bottom edge of the bed. "Which of the two ways do you want to do today?"

Jaleel blushes lightly, giggling into her arms, her ears heat up at the way he smiles at her giggling. "Can we do the enticing way?"

"We sure can." He reaches out, curling his fingers around her ankles, and tugs her feet down, tugging her down into a laying position. She giggles again as he crawls up over her, laying over her legs, he rests his arms at her sides, and she looks up at him from her laying position. "Am I hurting you?" He knew he wasn't the lightest weight, he needed to ensure his patient wasn't in any discomfort, and he nods when she shakes her head. "Good."

The young teenager smiles softly, he's seen it more then most others have, he loves her smile, it's one of the brightest smiles he's ever seen. "What are you going to try and get me to talk about, angel doctor?"

_'Angel doctor'_ is their special thing, it's theirs, and theirs alone.

"I want to talk about your scars."

"Nope, sorry, pick again."

He smiles, shaking his head, and wiggles his fingers lightly into her sides. Jaleel shrieks in surprise, arching her back lightly, pressing her head back into the pillow under her. "Nope, you chose the enticing way, I get to pick what we talk about, and I want to talk about that. So, sing little songbird. Tell me about them."

"Okayokayokay aahahhahahahahhaa! Stop! Aaahhahahahahahahaa!"

Akriel smiles, pausing his attack, but keeps his fingers poised against her sides so she knows she better keep her end of the deal.

She takes a moment to catch her breath, giggling softly under her breath, and curls her fingers around the Virtues hands. "I…I don't know what to say."

"That's fine, we'll work through it together, tell me why you have them."

Jaleel shakes her head lightly, biting her lip, and clears his throat lightly and squeezes his fingers into her sides. She shrieks again, arching her back once again, and pushes at his hands, of course, he's the stronger of the two, so he remains uninhibited.

"Aahahahhahaha okay! Aahahahaha I'll talk! I'll talk!"

"Are you sure, I can keep going if you need more encouragement."

"I'm sure! I'm sure!"

He nods, his fingers falling still, and waits patiently for her to catch her breath again. She licks her lips and averts her eyes away from his, she doesn't want to see the shame, the judgement. "It helps me."

"How does it help you?"

The teenager takes a deep breath, still clutching at his hands, and finds the right words. "It helps me feel better. I don't know. It just takes the load off, you know?"

"It helps keep you attached to reality."

"Yea, it helps, it makes me feel real. It keeps me in the real, you know what I mean? It makes me feel alive."

"I don't quite understand, no, what does that mean?"

"Sometimes it all just seems unreal, you know, like it's all fake, and doing that helps remind me that it's real. Not some sort of dream. And, it helps me feel better, when it all gets too much, you know, it helps me calm down."

Akriel nods lightly. "So, it helps you when you're overwhelmed."

"Mhmm, it helps me feel better."

"When did you start?"

Jaleel bites her lip again and he digs his fingers is, she yelps and jolts, smiling despite the conversation they were having, he thought it was adorable that his toughest little girl was this ticklish, even the slightest movement made her shriek. "When mom and Dave got married."

"Why then?"

The reaches out with one hand, petting his beard with a finger, and takes a moment. "Because, I knew it then."

"Knew what?"

"That she was moving on. That nothing would be the same. She'd already started forgetting about me by then, she'd remember me after the fact, in passing, but she forgot me. It was like I wasn't a part of her life anymore."

"You felt abandoned."

She nods lightly, tugging softly on the ends of his beard, he doesn't seem to mind, he doesn't pull her hand away. "It was like I was just the baggage at that point. Something she didn't want but had to keep because she couldn't get rid of it." She takes another moment. "I checked. A few months after I left. I went to the public library. She didn't even report me missing. She must have been happy I was gone."

"You knew that your relationship was coming to an end and you needed a release."

"Mhmm. Like I said, it helped."

Akriel watches her for a moment, reaching out with one of his fingers to poke her on the nose, drawing her attention back up to him, their eyes meet. She doesn't see the judgement that she sees in everyone else's eyes, she sees sympathy, and love. No judgement, or shame, or pity. "When was the last time you did it?"

"A week before I met you."

He nods. "Do you still get the urges to do it?"

"Sometimes. But not so much now." She curls her fingers over his mouth, and he presses a kiss to her palm. "You make me feel like I belong. I know you're busy, you have to take care of so much, and I'm not the only one living with you, but you make me feel like I belong. You always make time that we can spend together, just us, no one else. You make me feel better too."

"Have you done it since I took you in?" Jaleel looks down again and that's the only confirmation he needs. "Can I see?"

She takes a deep breath. "Promise you're not mad?"

"I'm not mad. I promise. That's not something I would ever get mad about. Look at me," he tilts her head up with a finger under her chin. "I promise I'm not mad. I'm concerned. But, I'm not mad. Can I please see?"

After a long moment, she nods, pushing her right sleeve up, she stretches her arm out, and he looks down at it. He runs a finger over the new marks, they're still fresh, but faint, so maybe a week or so old. She takes a deep breath, feeling shame build up in her, watching him closely as he bends down, pressing his lips to the patch. She watches in amazement as they slowly fade and disappear, not even a small blemish remains, and he presses his lips against the spot again for a moment before looking back up at her. She tugs her sleeve back down, reaching back down with both hands, curling her fingers around his wrists. "Jaleel, I want you to tell me next time, I can't help you if I don't know your having trouble."

"But, I can't. I don't know how."

"If you get those urges again, I want you to put one of my shirts on, ball the ends of the sleeves up in your fists, and come down to be with me. You don't have to say a thing. Come down to be with me, and I'll know, and we'll get through those urges together. You don't have to be alone anymore. You have me."

"I have you."

"You have me. We'll get through it together. Everything, we'll do it all together. That's what I'm here for. We'll talk about it in private, if you're uncomfortable doing it around others, and we'll work through it together."

She hums softly. "It's hard though, Ak."

"I know it is. I know. It's going to get harder before it gets easier. But, I'm here for you, you don't have to go through it alone. I'm always here if you need to talk, if you don't feel safe and you need someone to be with you, if you need someone to hold you up because you're too weak to then, I'm here for you, I'm here for all of it. I won't leave you, okay, I _won't _leave you." He wiggles his fingers slightly and she smiles. "I'm going to teach you other ways to help yourself feel better. Better ways. Ways that aren't as destructive. We're going to get through this together, okay?"

The teenager nods lightly. "Okay, Ak."

"Good." He squeezes her sides again and she shrieks softly. "And, that concludes our session."

"Wehehehe're dohohhone?"

"Yep, that's it, same time tomorrow?" She nods, caught in a fit of bubbly giggles. "Alright, same time tomorrow." He smiles down at her playfully. "You enjoyed petting my beard there, didn't you?"

"I lihihihike ihihihit! It fihihihihits youhuhuhuhu!"

"Well, thank you, I like my beard too. It does fit me, doesn't it, it's very useful too." He smiles at her gently, though still just as playful as before. "Do you want to see what I use it for?"

Jaleel feels as though she's going to regret it, but she nods, continuing to giggle when his fingers pull away from her sides. "Excellent, let me show you." He tugs the bottom of her shirt up and buries his face into her belly, and she squeals, bright peals of laughter echoing around them, her back arches and her legs tense. He shakes his head and she squeals again, throwing her head back when he blows a light raspberry over her belly button, shrieking with laughter even as he pulls away. "See, useful, it makes people so happy."

"It tihihihihihickles!"

"It does?" His head rushes back down, and he buries himself back in her belly again, Jaleel squeals brightly, squirming from side to side as he brushes his beard over her bare belly. "Hmm, it seemingly does, I never knew."

"Lihihihihhiahahhhahahar!"

"Did you just call your Guardian a _'liar'_?" He curls his right hand around her left side and buries his face into the right, blowing a big raspberry into the soft smooth skin, she cackles brightly, pushing at his head with her hands as much as she can muster, trying to push him away, he only shakes his head and she squeals brightly. "I honestly hadn't known."

"Aahahahhahahaha! Yohohoohuhuhuhuhu dihihihihid tohohohoho!"

"You're right," he switches sides, his hand curling around her right side, and he buries his face into her left. She shrieks with laughter, cackling brightly, squealing when he blows a massive raspberry into that side too. "I did." He chuckles down at her as she giggles feverishly even after his playful attack came to a stop. "I've had lots of experience."

"I cahahahaan tehehehell!"

"It's adorable just how ticklish you are."

"I ahahaham nohohohohot tihhihihihihicklish!"

He takes a deep breath and leans over, as though he's going to bury himself back into her belly, and she squeals, pushing against his head. "I am! I am!"

"Oh, I know, and it's adorable. You're so tough, until someone does a little bit of this." He wiggles his fingers into her belly, and she shrieks with laughter. "And then you're all giggly and soft."

"Stop! Stoohohohohop! Aahahhahahaha! Stopstopstop! Hahhahahhahaa ahahhhahahahaha!"

"I'll stop if you admit you're adorable."

"I ahahhhaham nohohohohot! Aahhahahahahahha! Stop! Stohohohohop! Aahahahhahahaha!"

"I'm not stopping until you say it."

Jaleel presses her head back into the pillow and shrieks when he wiggles his fingers down to her lower belly. "Aahahahhahahaha! I'm aahahahhahahha ahahhahaddohohohohohorrahahahahhahaable! I'm adorable! Ahahahhahahahaha! Ahahahhaak! I sahahahhahaid ihihihihit!"

"I know you did, but you're just so darn adorable when you laugh, that I just can't help it."

"Aahahahahhahaha! Please! Plehehehehhahaahhahahase! AK! Aahahahahhahaha!"

"What's in it for me?"

"Whahahhahaat!?"

Akriel sounds like he is enjoying this way too much and she'd kick him if he weren't laying on her legs. "I said, what's in it for me? You're just so adorable, that I could tickle this tummy all day, so you'll have to _entice _me to stop, so what's in it for me?"

"Aaahahahhahahhhaha! I doohohohohon't knoohohohohoow! Aahahahhahahahaha! AK! Stohohohop! Nohohoho mohohohohore!"

"Better think of something, I have nothing going on today, I could do this for the whole rest of the day if I wanted to."

"Nohohohoho! Plehehehehahahahhahaase! Nohohohot ahahahaalll dahahahhaay! Whahahhahat dohohhoo yohhohohouuhuhuhu wahahahant!"

"Well, I'm a big sucker for hugs."

She bolts forward, as much as she can him trapping her legs, and throws her arms around his neck, hugging on tightly. He chuckles lightly, curling his arms around her in turn, flipping them over, and she lays over top of him, hugging him still. "This is exactly what I wanted."

"Thahahhat was mehehean."

"Maybe a little bit." His beard brushes over the side of her forehead as he presses a kiss to her head. "But it cheered you up, didn't it?"

Jaleel lays her head down to rest against the crook of his shoulder, bringing her arms down to curl around his chest instead, sighing softly in comfort, it felt good to have someone's arms wrapped around her. "Yea, it made me feel better."


	255. The Woes Of Muteness

They all look over at the sudden sound of a ceramic pot crashing to the floor, shattering upon impact, and watch as the young healer in training turns on their heel and marches away from another. She clearly hadn't expected the attack, and taking into the account of her hands being raised in such a defensive position, the ceramic jug had been thrown _at _her, instead of at the floor.

"Oren—"

"Ak, I'm going to be otherwise preoccupied for the foreseeable future." His older brother squeezes his arm lightly, watching the young boy make his way around the perimeter of the Infirmary, fists clenched at his sides, clearly enraged over something. "Cover for me until I return."

"Of course."

He turns then, away from the specialist, and makes his way through the crowd of the Infirmary busy at work, catching the youngling by the bicep, he pulls him around. Inca glares up at him, smacking his hand away, and he raises an eyebrow at the blatant aggression. "Inca, what's gotten into you, did you throw that jug at her?"

Inca shoves him back, and Oren stumbles back a step, watching as the youngling turns to make his way away from him. He catches him by the bicep again, this time just a tad bit irritated, he didn't take being disrespected very well, something his youngest brother could vouch for, pulling him back around, he holds him in place by the shoulders, and glares down at him a stern glare. "You better sing your song, little song bird, because you're on a one-way track over my knee. You won't disrespect me, and you won't _attack _one of your fellow healers. So, I suggest you sing your song, and you better make it quick."

The silent youngling glares up at him heatedly, and huffs angrily, his hands shaking so hard in his angered state, it makes it hard for him to follow. "Inca, Inca, slow down." He pulls one of his hands away from his shoulders and holds it out to him. "Trace it, trace what you're saying, you're shaking too hard, I can't follow what you're saying." Inca huffs again, curling the fingers of his left hand around the Virtues wrist, and traces letters and words over his palm, they're quick and sporadic, but he can follow them well enough, much better then he could his signing.

The Captain nods along to the frantic tracing over his palm. "She was picking on you." Inca shakes his head and huffs again, tracing another word. "She was _bullying _you." The boy nods heatedly, tracing his grievance still. "Because of your disability." He nods again. "She's been calling you names." Inca nods again, and by the time he's done singing his proverbial song there's tears streaming slowly down his cheeks.

He sighs, curling his fingers around both of his cheeks, rubbing away the tears with his thumbs. "Inca, you know we don't tolerate bullying. Why didn't you tell me? Before you decided to throw that jug at her?" He doesn't get a response, he knows not to expect one, the boy's eyes say all he needs to know. He'd just reached the end of his rope. He'd taken all he could take and lost his temper, deciding on the only thing he could think of as retaliation, just chucking whatever he held in his hands at her. "My poor boy," he smiles down at him, in an attempt to show that he was not upset at him, if anything, he was upset with his tormentor. "Let's go upstairs and get away from all of this."

Inca nods, curling the fingers of his right hand around the Virtues, pulling his arm around his shoulders as he stepped forward, walking with him down the hall towards the stairs. They walk in silence, the only sound that follows them is the sound of their bootsteps over the stone floor, they take the steps up together, slowly, there's no rush. The step up into the Lounge, passed the kitchen, and down the hall to their room. He steps in first, Oren's guiding hand on the small of his back, and stands in the center of the room as he watches the Virtue close the door behind him and turn around to face him.

He gestures down to his feet. "Shuck out of your boots. You're done for today." The boy nods, leaning over to untie his boots, kicking them off gently, he looks back up to the Captain. "Now, lay on down on the bed."

Inca nods, turning to the bed, climbing up over the blankets, he spins around, laying on his back with his head resting back against the pillows. Oren bends over too, he watches him, untying his boots, he kicks them off too, and climbs up over the end of the bed. "My poor boy, she's pushed you to the end of your wits, she's hurt your feelings, she's made you." He lays down over his legs gently, Inca watches him with wide eyes, looking down as he slowly unbuckles the belt around his waist, he knows what's coming, and he starts to squirm softly. He unbuckles his belt, tugging it out from around his waist, and slowly pushes his deep purple tunic up. "Ori will help you feel better, again."

The youngling's eyes widen when he takes a deep breath, his head rushing down, and he buries his face into his belly. Inca shrieks, giggling feverishly, bracing his hands over the Virtues head, his fingers curling in his hair. Oren just sits there, holding his breath, letting him stew in anticipation, his giggles boisterous and continuous, no ending in sight, as he waits tensely for him to blow out his torturous raspberry. It's coming. He knows it's coming. The anticipation builds, it grows in his belly, as he waits for the torture to come, and he squirms softly, pushing at the Virtues head.

He waits until the anticipation is at it's peak, and then, he blows.

Inca throws his head back, squealing with laughter, pushing desperately at the Captain's head when he hears him take another breath and he moves over to bury his face in the side of his belly. Shrieking and squealing when he blows another raspberry, moving over to blow another over the other side of his belly.

He couldn't talk, but when Ori learned he could laugh, he made sure to make him laugh as much as he could.

"EEIEIEIAAIAHAHAAHAHHHAHAHHA AHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA! AHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA! EIEIAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA HAHAHAHAAHAHAHA! AHAHAAHHAHAHAEIIEIEIEAHHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHA!"

The youth pushes against the elder's shoulders, squirming from side to side when he pulls away from his belly, but wiggles his fingers in, in place of his raspberries. Shrieking with laughter, he manages to roll up on his left side, and in retaliation, his guardian blows a big raspberry over it, he squeals and throws himself back down.

"There we go, let's get you good and going, get that upset out of your system." He leans over to the right when ten fingers wiggle over his left side, and wiggle their way over his belly, and come to rest on his right side, as he leans as far as he can to the left. "As the Head healer on the floor, I have to say, with absolute certainty, laughter is the best medicine."

Inca shakes his head feverishly.

"No?" He moves his fingers down to wiggle over his lower belly, and Inca shrieks again, arching his back under him, his hands flying down to curl around his own, though it did nothing to inhibit him. "You think differently?"

The boy nods quickly, and he smiles, he loves it when this happens, it happens quite often. They have this dispute quite often.

"How would you know better then me?" He wiggles a finger into the boy's belly button, and he squeals softly, pushing at his hand as much as he can in an attempt to get the finger out of his belly button. "What's your evidence?"

Pausing his attack, he allows Inca to pull his hands away to sign, and when he does, just before he can form his first word, he wiggles his fingers back in, and the boy shrieks, his hands flying back down to curl around his, forgetting about trying to plead his case as he tries to pull his fingers away.

"Inca, what's your evidence?" He pauses again, and Inca hesitates for a moment, pulling his hands away slightly, and when nothing happens, he pulls his hands away and prepares to begin signing, and that's when he starts up his attack again. Inca shrieks, throwing his hands back down, and he chuckles lightly at his boy's misery. "Well, seeing as you haven't provided any evidence, my point still stands." He curls his fingers around his wrists, holding his hands down at his sides, and looks over the bare belly before him. "Laughter is the best medicine." And buries his face back into the boy's pale belly. He rubs his beard into the sensitive flesh, he knows how much it drives the boy crazy, and Inca squeaks, squealing with laughter, shaking his head from side to side, he feels his legs kick lightly underneath him. He carries on for a few moment, relishing in the boy's squeals and laughter, his wrists twisting and turning in his fingers.

It's when his laughter falls silent that he stops, finally pulling away, chuckling at the red-faced boy that stares back at him, giggling breathlessly still. "Feel better?"

Inca nods, smiling brightly, pulling his wrists out from under his fingers, throwing his arms around the Captain's neck. Oren smiles lightly, curling him in his arms in turn, cradling the back of his head, he spins them over, with him laying over the pillows and Inca laying over his chest. He pets his fingers through the hair on the back of his head. "I'm going to talk to her mentor, alright, we don't accept that kind of behavior."

He nods again, pulling his arms down from around his guardian's neck, he curls his fingers into the front of his tunic instead, tracing words over his chest. "No, I'm not mad, I understand why you did it." He traces a few more words. "No, you won't be in any trouble." Inca smiles, nuzzling down against him, sighing deeply.

Oren scratches at the back of his head lightly. "Why don't you take a nap, In, you've had a rough day."

The youngling nods, rubbing his cheek against the elders chest, he sighs again and closes his eyes.

A nap sounds nice.


	256. The Night Before The End

"Come on, you," the gate to his cell swings open, and they snap their fingers, pointing to the spot next to them. "Your act may get the guards to leave you be, but it won't work on me, mister, up and at'em."

"No, I don't want to."

"Gadreel, you can come wash up on your own free will, or I can carry you there over my shoulder, either way," he rests his hands on his hips. "You're going to bathe."

"No."

"Alright, we're going to do this the hard way." The Warden steps into his cell, reaching out for him, Gadreel grumbles, batting at his hands. "No, no Thaddy! No! Leave me alone!"

"Nope, it's bath time, mister, up you get." He snags the young prisoner by the wrist and tugs him up, bending slightly, he tugs him up over his shoulder. Gadreel protests, banging his fists against his back, it's been one of those weeks, where the mood seems to grow darker and his baby brother is left in a particular mindset. Stubborn and stuck in a constant temper tantrum. It deterred the guards, but he wasn't so weak, he could handle a small temper tantrum. Especially from this particular prisoner. "Now, you stop that." He smacks his rear sharply. "That's more than enough."

"Put me down! Put me _down_! I don't want to! Put me down, Thaddy!"

"Now, you stop that, that's enough, Gadreel." He pauses in the middle of the hallway, smacking his rear once again. "Do you want to lay over my knee?"

"No, Thaddy! No!"

"Then, you better knock it off."

Gadreel nods quickly, the fight leaving him, dangling over his older brothers shoulder like he was, he feels tears well up in his eyes. He made Thaddy mad at him. He didn't mean to. It just….It just got to him. He'd been here for over a year and there was no end in sight. Tears slip down his cheeks as they enter the empty washroom, the others having already finished up and started eating supper, you didn't get supper unless you washed up on bath days.

Thaddeus leans over, setting the young angel down on his feet, he sighs softly at the tears that glisten over his cheeks. "Oh, Gaddy, I know it's been one of those weeks." He caresses his cheeks as he wipes away the tears with his thumbs. The young prisoner sniffles miserably. "I—I—I made you m—mad at m—me."

"Oh, little shadow, I'm not mad at you." He cradles his cheeks and tilts his head back to look him in the eyes. "I understand. It's just been a bad week. I know you don't mean it."

Gadreel sniffles again, rubbing at his nose pitifully. "Y—You're not m—mad at me?"

"No," he shakes his head. "I'm not mad at you, grasshopper."

"P—Promise?"

"I promise. I'm not mad." He pulls him in, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and smiles down at him when he pulls him back. "You're going to come stay with me for a while, alright?"

The younger angel nods lightly. "Okay, T—Thaddy."

"Good angel, now you get cleaned up, and we'll go have supper."

Gadreel nods lightly, turning away from him, slowly pulling his tunic up over his head, he throws it in the large hamper next to the shelves of clean clothes, he shucks out of his trousers and undergarments, grabs himself a bar of soap and a wash cloth, and wades into the pool of warm water to bathe.

Thaddeus watches him for a moment, his arms crossed over his chest loosely, silently cursing Michael's name for putting the young Sentry through this. It was one mistake, it wasn't even a mistake, the messenger who was supposed to tell him about the Morningstar's betrayal had gotten distracted, Gadreel hadn't had the slightest idea that he wasn't supposed to let the second born Archangel in the Garden. He was being punished for a crime that didn't exist. He turns, to give him some privacy, and busies himself with menial tasks, sorting out the hamper into two piles; one of trousers and the other of tunics.

He hears a splash, and he spies over his shoulder, watching his younger brother rinse his hair out. He grabs him another towel, watching as he walks out of the water, wrapping his towel around his waist, and the Warden turns, meeting him half way, wrapping the other towel around his shoulders, creating a small hood with it, he gently rubs his head dry. "All clean?"

Gadreel nods softly. "All clean."

"Good boy," he guides him around. "Now, go get dressed." The younger angel nods, parting from his side, picking up his tunic first, slipping it over his head, he pulls his trousers on, and returns to his older brothers side. "Very good, let's go get some supper." He nods, curling around the older angel's arm as they walk out of the washroom side by side. Thaddeus guides him around to the stairs with a hand against the small of his back and nods up the stairs when he turns to look at him, the young prisoner takes the first stair up, then the second, and continues on his way until they reach the top.

The Warden's room is warm, the fire crackling softly, a cauldron bubbling over the fire, he'd been in the process of cooking supper when one of his guards had come up to tell him about the stubborn little prisoner refusing to take his bath.

He guides him forward as he pauses in the middle of the room. "You climb in bed and I'll bring your supper over to you, alright grasshopper?"

"Okay, Thaddy." Gadreel nods, stepping forward, climbing up on the Warden's large bed, claiming the right side. He watches his older brother scoop up two large scoops of warm stew into a bowl, pick up a spoon, and turn back towards him. He holds the bowl and spoon out for him. "Here you go."

He smiles. "Thanks, Thaddy."

"Anytime, baby brother."

Scooping up a spoonful, he plops it in his mouth, humming in delight, his big brother is a good cook. It almost tastes like Nis's stew, almost, nothing could top his stew, but Thaddy's was a good second best. His older brother slides in next to him, his own bowl of stew in hand, and sets a plate of fresh baked bread between them. They eat in silence, listening to the crackle of the fire, downing their stew while it's still warm. He finishes first, but his older brother is in a close second place, and turns to look down at him. "Do you want more?"

The younger nods, passing him his bowl, Thaddy nods in turn, standing from his side of the bed, and scoops more stew into their bowls. He passes his back before he slides back in, gesturing to the bread between them, he scoops a spoonful into his mouth. "Have some bread, it'll help fill you up." He nods again, taking a piece of bread, he dips it in the stew broth and takes a bite, humming in pleasure. They eat in companionable silence again, dipping their bread into the stew, eating their meal happily.

Gadreel passes him his bowl when they're both finished, and he takes them and the bread plate, sliding off the bed to deposit them in the washing basin, letting them soak, he'll wash them in the morning. He slides back in next to the young sentry, tugging him close to his side, he turns over onto his side, curling around him, curling him up in his arms. "I know it's rough, grasshopper, I know it is. I'm so sorry."

"I made a mistake, Thaddy."

"I know you did, you couldn't have known, it wasn't your fault."

Gadreel clutches at the front of his tunic. "You won't ever leave me, right Thaddy?"

"Never, baby brother, I'm always going to be here for you." He presses a kiss to his forehead tenderly. "I'll always be here to take care of you."

The younger angel smiles, tucking himself in closer. "Can I spend the day with you tomorrow?"

"I have to meet with Naomi in the morning, she asked to see me, but you can wait for me in my office." He kisses his forehead again. "We can spend the rest of the day together after I get back."

"Thaddy," he looks up at him with wide eyes. "Please don't go, I don't trust her, please don't go see her."

He chuckles softly, scratching at the back of his head lightly. "It'll be fine, baby brother, but if it makes you feel better, I'll take Ion with me, just to be sure."


	257. Breaking The Spell

_'Beat him.'_

"T—T—Taddy! Please! T—This isn't y—you!"

_'Beat him, Thaddeus.'_

"P—P—Please, Taddy! Y—You promised t—t—to always be there, r—remember! Y—You said y—y—you'd a—always protect m—me!"

_'He is a traitor, beat him, Thaddeus, beat him into silence.'_

"P—Please, T—T—Taddy! I—I don't kn—know what she di—did to you! B—But you ha—have to sn—snap out of it! T—This isn't y—y—you! S—She's con—controlling you!"

**_'G—Grasshopper?'_**

_'Ignore him, Thaddeus, he is a traitor, it is your job to punish the traitors, beat him with the whip in your hand, break him.'_

Gadreel looks over his shoulder as best as he can, not understanding what's happening, he'd started pleading, it wasn't the first time, but this time was different then the other times, the lashes stopped, the end of his whip, slick with his blood, laid on the floor as his feet, his fingers curled tightly around the handle, staring down at him with wide cloudy eyes.

His back stung, and sobs fell from his lips like raindrops from a storm cloud, he just wanted it to stop, please, please make it stop.

"T—Taddy, re—remember, I—I'm y-your ba—baby brother! Y—Your li—little grasshopper! Re—Remember! P—Please, Taddy, y—you have t—t—to remember! Y—You have to co—come back h—home! I—I—I need y—you! I ne—need you, T—T—Taddy!"

**_'Grasshopper, what…what happened…you're bleeding.'_**

_'Thaddeus, listen to me, listen to me, I control you, you are mine!'_

**_'I…I'm hurting the little grasshopper.'_**

Gadreel stares at him with cloudy tear filled eyes, watching as a war wages behind his pale eyes, as his fingers tighten around his whip again, and he braces himself for another lash, clenching his eyes shut, trying to prepare himself for what's to come, it's not working, he was wrong, this time is no different.

His eyes fly open when he hears it clatter to the floor, and he stares down at it, as the whip just lays there, lays at his feet, and then he looks back up to the Warden, hopeful, but not willing to get his hopes up only to have them crumble around him. "T—Taddy?"

_'Thaddeus, what are you doing, THADDEUS!'_

"G—Grasshopper?"

"Taddy! Taddy, i—is it you? A-Are you back? I—Is it r—really you?"

"Grasshopper, you're hurt," he flinches when warm hands curl over his shoulders, a trained response, but he doesn't think this is the bad Thaddy, this is his Taddy, this is his big brother now. "You're hurt, I hurt you, grasshopper I am so sorry, I don't know what happened, all I remember is going to see Naomi and Ion knocked me out, and then, then I woke up, and everything was different. I'm so sorry, baby grasshopper, Taddy will make it all better, Taddy's got you."

"T—Taddy, i—it hurts!"

"I know, baby brother, I know." He reaches above his head, unshackling his wrists from the wooden stake, catching him when he collapses. He crawls in front of him, pulling him close, guiding his legs around his waist, mindful of his destroyed back as he lifts him up. "Hang on tight, hang on tight, grasshopper, I'm going to take care of you, everything is going to be okay."

He throws the door of the torture room open, catching sight of the one who had betrayed him, he remembers, it's all coming back to him, Ion had held him down.

"Seize him!" He barks to the guards around the hall, Ion stares at him with wide horrified eyes, watching him carry the beaten prisoner from the torture room. "Somebody grab him, he's a traitor, seize him immediately!"

Ion backs away, watching as the guards around him turn towards him, closing in, and turns to make his escape. He runs into someone's fist, hard, it plows into his face, knocking him off of his feet, and he lands in a heap on the floor, unmoving, completely knocked out. Sabaoth shakes his fist out, snarling down at the unconscious guard, kicking him in the chest to make sure he was well and truly out, he gestures to the ones at his side to take him, and they scurried forward, edging around the enraged Head Guard.

"Saba—"

"I'm not sorry."

"I was going to thank you." Thaddeus hefts the angel in his arms up higher when he starts to slip. "Take Rahab, if I did this to my grasshopper, I could only imagine what the others must look like. Take Rahab and bring back as many healers as you can, I want everyone looked over, no one is to be left unassisted. Extra blankets for everyone, extra pillows, they are to be in as much comfort as we can provide. New clothes for everyone. Warm broth and bread for supper, I don't know how much they can hold down until I know the true extent of the damage," his expression darkens considerably, as it all comes flooding back, and his mind centers on one individual. "Alert the Commander of _Naomi's _betrayal." Sabaoth nods, turning on his heel, pulling Rahab around. "I want her head on a silver platter."

He watches them as they run off, and he looks at the others milling about, jerking his head to the side. "Well? _Go! _Those who can walk are to be taken to the washroom, those who cannot will be sponged down in their cells, clean clothes for everyone, leave the cell doors open until I say otherwise, I will be back to check in on the true extent of the damage."

The other guards nod, darting off to complete their tasks, and cell doors slam open throughout the halls, echoing around them.

Thaddeus looks down at the little grasshopper he holds in his arms, pressing a kiss to his dirty sweaty forehead. "Big brother's going to take care of you personally, alright grasshopper, I'm going to make everything all better. I'll get you fixed up and you'll stay with me, you're right, I shouldn't have gone, I'm never leaving your side again."

"W—What about Ab—Abner?"

"Ladybug is here too?" He frowns when Gadreel nods against his shoulder, and looks up over his head, his eyes meeting those of the guards just a pace away. "Abner, I want Abner brought upstairs."

They nod, darting off to retrieve their quarry, and he turns, taking the stairs to the upstairs slowly, one by one, as though to make sure he didn't cause further pain by moving too fast. He kicks the door to his room open and slowly makes his way across the threshold, kneeling beside his bed, he gently maneuvers his precious cargo around. "Let's lay you on your belly, easy does it, easy now." Gadreel reaches out to brace himself as he's lowered onto the Warden's bed, they'll change the bedding once he's cleaned up, it's going to be covered in blood-soaked water and dirt and grime. The young prisoner whines at the pulling of the lashes on his back, and he coos down at him softly, trying to offer as much comfort as he can.

He just gets him in position and steps away slightly when someone rams into him from behind, he yelps, stumbling forward a step, raising his arms as he looks down along his sides, spying the fingers curled into the sides of his tunic, he steps around a turn, curling his fingers under their arms when he spots the bloody foot prints trailing through the doorway, where the guard escorting them remains standing.

"Thaddy! Thaddy, is it true! Is what they're saying true! Is it! Tell me! Is it true!"

"Ladybug, your feet!"

Abner doesn't seem to be focusing too much on the pain he's sure to feel in his bleeding feet, tugging desperately on his older brothers tunic, he draws his attention away from the bloody foot prints back do to his eyes. "Thaddy, is it true! Did she really do that! Did it really happen! Is what they're saying true!"

"Yes, yes, it is."

"Oh, Thaddy, I knew that wasn't you!" He catches the younger angel when he throws himself forward, colliding against his chest, holding on as tight as he can. "I knew it wasn't! I knew it!"

Abner is clearly not focused on the matter that is his feet, but he is, and he sweeps the young angel up off of them and into his arms, curling him in tighter when he burrows into the side of his neck, wet tears soaking the collar of his tunic. "It wasn't me, you're right, ladybug, I'm back now. I'm back to myself. Big brother is going to take care of everything now. I'm going to make it all right again. Things are going to be better." He carries him around to the other side of the bed, laying him down next to his brother and best of friends. Gadreel whimpers softly, the pain in his torn back nearly unbearable, nearly numb it was so agonized, reaches out for the angel next to him, and Abner gives him his left hand, letting him clutch onto it as much as he can. "Stay off of those feet."

The older of the two looks over to his brother, squeezing his hand firmly. "Take care of Reel, he was hurt the most, take care of him."

"I'm going to take care of both of you, but I'll start with him, he seems to be in the worst shape."

He turns first to the guard in the doorway, addressing him first. "I need a basin of water and some sponges, I need towels too, be quick, move with haste." The guard nods, rushing down the stairs, the sound of his boots fades away, and he spares no passing minute, turning to the large cabinet on the wall, he pulls open both doors, reaching inside for the items he's after. First, he pulls out two syringes, and turns back to his first of two patients, Thaddeus leans over the younger prisoner, brushing his hair back, and despite the grime and sweat covering his forehead, he presses down a tender kiss. "I'm going to give you some anesthetic for your back, you'll still feel slight discomfort, but it'll numb most of the pain."

Gadreel nods, clutching at Abner's hand harder, whining softly when he feels the first of two pokes as he inserts the needles and injects the numbing agent over the top of his back and then the lower half of his back. It spreads quickly, until his entire back is completely numb, and he sighs in slight relief, the pain faded for the moment.

The guard returns soon after, carrying the basin in his hands, another following behind him with the sponges and towels. He gestures to the bedside table, and they set their items down, backing away when he shoos them back, he'll take care of these two personally. He takes a bottle of disinfecting soap from the cabinet on the wall and uncaps it, pouring a good amount into the basin, he rolls his sleeves up, and stirs the water around until bubbles start to form and the mixture is well and truly mixed.

He leans back over the numb prisoner. "Okay, I'm going to clean you up, you might feel some discomfort, maybe some slight stinging, but nothing too bad, alright?"

His grasshopper nods slightly, staring ahead, holding Abner's gaze equally as intent as the other is holding his. He dips the first sponge into the medicated water and squeezes it, soaking up some water, and lifts it out, squeezing the excess water out. Leaning over him carefully, he dabs the sponge over his right shoulder, swirling it in a slow small circle, he cleans up the blood and the mess slowly and tenderly, not wanting to cause him too much discomfort as he works. He rinses the sponge for a moment, when his right shoulder is cleaned of the mess that covers him, and he slowly makes his way over to his left shoulder, rinses again, and continues around his back until the skin is pale and cleared of the mess, the lashes cleaned thoroughly. Most of them are superficial, not too deep, but a few of them are, and he exchanges his sponge for a thread and needle. "Hold as still as you can, alright grasshopper, I'll try and be as quick as I can."

Gadreel can't see what he's doing, but he saw him take up the needle and thread, and he whines softly, pulling Abner's hand over his lips. He whines softly as he sticks the needle through one flap of skin and then through the other, pulling it snug together, and repeats the process six more times, knots it off, and moves on to the next one, and repeats this process for five lash marks. He rubs some antibacterial ointment over the wounds, and taps gauze strips over them, to keep them clean of debris as they healed. "Okay, grasshopper, sit up for me, easy, easy." The young lifer sits up, turning to sit on the edge of the bed, his feet pressed lightly over the floor, he takes his sponge back in hand, and slowly sponges his chest and belly down, clearing away the sweat and grime, dried blood, cleaning up the mess to leave the pale cleaned skin in it's wake. He rinses his sponge, and strokes it down the young sentry's arms, making sure to get his palm and fingers. Using the first towel, the Warden rubs him dry gently, being careful of the bruises that litter the skin, the guilt that settles in the bottom of his belly is heavy and consuming. "Alright, now, I'm going to wrap some bandages around your chest, to cover your back, okay?"

He nods, raising his arms slightly as the older angel reaches around him, winding roll after roll of bandages around his torso, peering over his shoulder for guidance, being sure to covered the gauze bandages over the lashes. "You're doing so good, grasshopper, so very good, I'm so proud, we're almost done, and then you can lay back down." Tilting the younger angel head up, he uses a cloth, damp from the basin, and rubs his face clean as gently as he can, stroking it down the front of his neck and back behind his ears. He sponges down both legs, over his feet, being sure to pinch his toes just to bring a smile to his face and a small giggle to his lips, and then he helps him back around onto his belly.

Running his fingers through his soft damp curls, he presses his lips to the side of his forehead again, stroking a finger over his cheek tenderly. "All done, little guy, we're all done, you did so good, big brother is so proud, so very proud." He smiles when the younger angel smiles and presses another kiss to his forehead. "Let me care for your brother, and then we'll get some supper, alright?"

"Okay, Taddy."

"Good grasshopper, very good." He presses one final kiss to his forehead and steps away, gesturing for one of the guards in the door way to follow. "Bring the basin of water and another two sponges." They nod, tucking two sponges under their arm and lift the basin of water off that bedside table, cross around to the other side of the bed, and sets it down on that bedside table. "I'm going to tend to his feet, you're going to tend to his top half, wash him down, be gentle."

The guard nods, soaking one of the sponges, and stretches Abner's right arm out slightly to wash it down gently. Thaddeus leans over him, curling his fingers over his cheek, and smiles down at him gently. "I'm going to numb your feet, alright?"

"Okay, Thaddy."

He pats his cheek lightly. "Good boy." He collects two more syringes from the cabinet, uncaps them both, and injects one into his left foot, and the other into his right, cooing at him softly when he whines quietly. He gives it a few moments to numb up, and gently dabs his damp sponge over the right sole, the wounds aren't too deep, no stitches needed, and he pinches at his toes for the same reason he pinched at Gadreel's. He moves on to the left soon enough, looking up to see the progress the guard had made, they're silent, working diligently, rubbing down the older sentry's belly. Thaddeus covers his soles in the same antibacterial cream, and wraps them snugly in bandages, tying them in place.

Climbing to his feet, he nods at the guard in gratitude, coming to stand at Abner's side, he smiles at them both. "How about some supper?" They both nod silently, watching him turn to the guard beside him. "Three bowls of broth and some bread, please."

One guard leaves with the basin and sponges and the other heads to get them their supper.

"Thaddeus." He knew that the Archangel would make his appearance when they arrived asking for so many of his healers. "Let me see you." He turns just as the Healer strides into his room, Gadreel turns his head, and both of the young ones on his bed watch him take hold of the Warden's chin, looking deep into his eyes, as though searching for something. "What broke the control?"

"Grasshopper—I mean, Gadreel, Gadreel did."

"Her hand was always faulty, she didn't have quite as much talent as Akriel did, the _nerve _of her." He looks between his eyes, reaching up to brush his hair back, examining the holes in his temple. "You two must have a close bond, for him to be able to wake you up, very close."

"I've known him all his life." He shoots a quick smile to the one in question over his shoulder, Gadreel catches his eye and smiles back, it warms his heart at the sight of it. "I was the second one to hold him when he was first born."

"He must adore you."

"I adore _him_."

"Good. It's that adoration that broke the spell, even under her control, your subconscious recognized him."

"Why did it take so long for me to wake up then?"

"The mind is a fickle thing. You always recognized him, in your heart, but your mind took longer to recall what your heart already knew. She attempted to seal your memories away, essentially making you a shell of your former self, the opposite of who you truly are, and whatever the young one did, he broke that dam holding your memories back."

Thaddeus nods lightly as the Healer releases his chin, turning his attention to the two in the bed, kneeling at Gadreel's side, he curls his fingers over his cheek and smiles at him. Gadreel returns his smile. "You did a wonderful thing, little one."

The Warden nods in agreement, smiling at him when his little grasshopper looks up at him again. "How about the others?"

"Most are rather scratched up, malnourished greatly, broth and bread was a wise decision for their supper. My healers will remain just in case, they will trade out with other's in the morning, we will help you find places for them to go so we can get them out of these walls." He peers at him from over his shoulder. "They all have extra pillow and extra blankets, they've been cleaned, and fed. I had the guards light candles in their cells, so they're not drowned in darkness, letting them see is best." He nods lightly. "A few asked for you."

"They did?"

Raphael nods again. "They did."

Thaddeus nods lightly. "Will you stay with them for me, until I return?"

"Of course, go tend to your little ones, I'll keep them company."

…

He sets his big bag down just outside the cell, the last one on his journey, he'd take good care of them, they all needed tender care now. Reaching into the bag, he pulls out his gift, and steps into the cell. The angel on the small bed stiffens, watching him approach with wide eyes, staring down at his hands when he kneels at their bedside.

"Here, you are, Zander." He holds out a stuffed toy to him, a stuffed octopus, and the younger angel reaches out tentatively with a bandaged hand to take it from him, he holds it out over his stomach as he stares at it, running his fingers down each tentacle, and pulls it in to hug to his chest, looking back up at the Warden with shining eyes. "You hold on to him tight, okay, and if you need me to come back down, you just ask the guard out there, alright?"

Zander nods, shuffling down into his pillow when the Warden pulls his blankets up under his chin, brushing his curls back gently. "Everything's going to be alright from here on, okay, everything will go back to normal now, back to how it used to be."

"R—Really?"

He smiles down at him, poking him on the nose lightly. "Really, once you're all healed up, we'll give that belly and those toes some tender love as well."

"Back to tickles?"

The Warden nods lightly. "Back to tickles, lots and lots of tickles, we need to bring the laughter back."

The young prisoner giggles softly at the thought of it. "I missed you, Thaddy."

"I missed you too, Zan, you get some sleep, I'm only a call away."

"Okay, Thaddy."

…

When he returns upstairs, the Healer stands from the desk chair, two empty bowls sit on the desktop, and one full bowl, three pieces of bread remain from the plateful that was brought up. "Alright, is everyone taken care of?"

He nods. "Tucked in and fast asleep."

"Good, good, I left some sleeping tonics down in the first break room. Use them if anyone seems to be having trouble getting any sleep, I'll inform the guards as well." He nods over to the two on his bed, they're fast asleep, curled up in his blankets, he takes notices of Gadreel laying on his side and steps forward, it's not good for his back. Raphael stops him with a hand pressed to his chest. "It's alright, I injected him with some of my grace, his wounds were rather more extensive than the others."

"Why?" Thaddeus steps around him, sitting on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through the younger angels curls, Gadreel hums and leans in closer. "Why did she make me go after him more than the others?"

"I have a few theories, the one that I am more inclined to believe is that she wanted to test just how far her control could go, everyone knows how close you and he are, the more you harmed him, the farther her control had gone. That relationship is inevitably what broke her control. Love truly conquers all."

"So, it was all just a test, for her?"

"I'm afraid so."

He frowns, looking down at the sleeping little angel, smiling slightly when he nudges his fingers, leaning into the gentle touch. "I can never forgive myself for what I did to him. To them all."

"It was not _you_, Thaddeus." The Archangel gestures to the younger angel, leaning into his touch. "He clearly does not blame you. If he does not, and they do not, then you should not, it does no one any good."

"How do you know they don't?"

"Come now, Thaddeus." Raphael crosses his arms lightly. "If they blamed you, they would not have asked for you."

"I guess you're right."

"Of course, I am, when have I ever been wrong?"

Thaddeus snorts softly, reaching over to brush Abner's curls back, smiling when he smiles and leans into his touch. "You're never wrong."

"Quite right, now," he gestures to the third bowl of broth and bread. "Eat your supper and climb between them in bed, you should all be resting, I expect Nisroc will come to see you in the morning, and I would be well rested." He winks at him playfully. "You _know _how _he _can be."

That draws a soft laugh from him, and he nods. "I do."

"I would expect so." Raphael smiles at him. "Good night, Thaddeus, it is good to have you back."

"It's good to be back," he smiles back at the Archangel. "Good night, Raph."

The archangel leaves them, closing the door behind him, he hears him utter something to the two guards posted outside his door, and he stands silently, he can't be too sure now, and crosses his room, pressing his palm over the wooden door, he pushes his grace into it, creating a barrier between them and the outside world. They can break down the door. But only he can break down the barrier. The ones on the outside can knock on the door and call through, he'll hear them, but only he can enter and exit the barrier he's created, and anyone he grants entrance to. Gadreel, Abner, and Nisroc, when he comes in the morning. He uses the washroom within the barrier to clean up, washing away the grime, washing his hair, scrubbing his face, he wants to feel clean again. He wraps a towel around his waist and his hair up in another, and steps back into his room, opening his wardrobe, he pulls out a pair of pajamas, undergarments on first, he steps into his pajama pants, and then pulls the top on, buttoning it up the front, he rubs his hair dry, brushes it out, and lets it hang down his shoulders to dry.

He'd call the four he knows he can trust up here, wanting to keep those he knows he can trust close, but he knows they've already left for the night. He's not letting his barrier down until Titus, Nisroc, and Michael interview all of the remaining guards, in the event there are other traitors among them, it's not a chance he's willing to take. He will leave this room armed, and treat all but the four he knows like they cannot be trusted, until he knows they can be, and keep all at arm's length, but those specific four.

Thaddeus is happy that Nisroc is coming in the morning, knowing that he's here will make him feel safer, it's easier to overpower him then it is the Captain of the Powers. Part of him had wanted to ask the Healer to have him come tonight, but he did not want to overstep, it was alright he was coming in the—"Tadpole?" A knock on his door pulls him from his thoughts. His throat tightens, there's only one person who calls him that, who calls him _'Tadpole'_, and that person means safety, that person means home, that person means warm hugs and a beard rubbing over his ear and protection inside of strong arms. "Tadpole, can we come in?"

_We?_

He crosses over to the door tentatively, curling his fingers around the door handle, he turns it slowly, and pulls the door open a crack to peek out. Though it sounds like him, it could be a trick, he doesn't want to test just how strong his barrier is.

Nisroc smiles at him. "Tadpole."

"Papa?"

He nods. "I'm here, tadpole, can we come in?"

Anyone close enough to it can sense the barrier he's created, and he's glad, he wants them to feel it. All of them are suspects, minus the four he knows, until proven otherwise.

"We?"

"Me, Puri, and Tus, tadpole." He reaches out, a shimmer of gold stopping his hand, and he holds it there, over the invisible barrier he's created. "We came as soon as we were able to. The _Mindbreaker _did not go peacefully, or we would have been here sooner." He looks over the Captain's shoulder, and just as he said, Titus and Puriel smiles back at him, waving their fingers slightly in greeting. The Warden nods, drawing his door open wider. "You can come in."

Nisroc thanks him softly, and the barrier allows them through, only them, and he closes the door as soon as Puriel steps in behind them, locking it once more.

"Tadpole," the oldest Power opens his arms, beckoning him forward with his fingers. "Come to papa, tadpole, come here."

He feels his eyes sting, and he steps forward, a soft whine of _'paapaaa' _escapes him as he steps into those arms and they curl around him. A large hand cradles the back of his head, pressing him close against his shoulder, holding him as close as he can manage. "I'm here, tadpole, I'm right here. It's alright. It's going to be alright."

"I—I did so many horrible things, papa."

He rubs at the back of his head. "It wasn't you, Tadpole, and they all know that. They know who you really are, they do, they all still love you, tadpole, I promise you that they do."

He watches from over his old guardians shoulder as Puriel and Titus press their hands against the barrier he's created, strengthening it with their grace, it pulses under their fingers as they charge it, and he burrows his head downwards, away from them. "I'm so scared, papa, what if…What if there's others?"

"That's why we came tonight, tadpole, we weren't sure ourselves, and we wanted to make sure you were all protected." He rubs his head again. "Michael created a barrier over the cells, only the prisoners can enter and exit their cells, just to be safe."

"Where..Where did he put the Mindbreaker?"

"She is locked in the dungeon under the Pavilion, in an induced coma, the Healer was not taking any chances with her."

Thaddeus looks up at him slightly. "I didn't…I didn't know that was still there."

Nisroc smiles down at him gently, scratching at the back of his head lightly. "Neither did I. Michael did not want to risk putting her here, given the crime, he did not think it was safe."

"What about Ion?"

"He is with her." He kisses his nose lightly. "Michael has opened an investigation into the matter, to find out if there were any more victims, and if there were any contributors. He's also sent word out to Father and Aunt. They will be coming back to decide on a punishment appropriate enough for the crime that was committed."

"And," Titus comes up on his left, rubbing at his back gently, his tone soft. "He will be joining us in the morning to interview the remaining guards, we are not as practiced in it, but he will recognize deceit if there is any, and they will be dealt with swiftly."

"Come, little frog, you haven't eaten supper yet." Puriel rubs his right shoulder lightly, gesturing to his desk, where his supper lay waiting. "Let's eat supper and get into bed. Your head will start to ache as the barriers she created begin to crumble on themselves, it's best to be in bed when that happens, sleep is the best medicine."

Nisroc kisses him on the forehead for a short minute, and leans in to press his forehead against his, looking him in the eyes gently. "Are the spare cots still in the spare room?"

"Mhmm, with the extra blankets and pillows."

"Alright, we'll go get some for us to sleep on, Puri will stay here with you."

"Okay, papa."

The Captain kisses him one more time on the forehead and turns, Titus following after him, and Puriel curls his fingers around his shoulder, guiding him towards his desk.

And that's when another entrance is made.

They both look up when the heavy vent cover is pulled away, slowly making their way over to stand under it, staring up into the dark hole to see who would have been permitted into the barrier without a verbal allowance inside.

A small head of curls comes into view, and Thaddeus laughs a shaky laugh, reaching up to them. "Sasha!"

"Taddy….Taddy are you better again?"

"I'm me again, little bug, I'm me, come down here, let me hold you."

"Promise you is you?"

He nods. "Once I have you in my arms again, I'm going to give that chubby little belly as many tickles as I can."

Sasha cracks a smile, giggling lightly at the thought of it. "You is you."

That explains why he'd gotten passed the barrier. Thaddeus's grace would have automatically let him in because of their bond. He'd met the Powers before, a number of times, and they'd grown rather close, theirs would have let him in as well.

The fledgling slowly lowers himself through the vent, Puriel is taller then him, so the medic is the one to grab hold of the fledgling as his arms finally give out from holding himself over the opening. He passes the fledgling over to his guardian, smiling at their reunion, as Thaddeus pulls the boy in close, curling around him, pressing him against his shoulder, and he reaches up to pull the vent cover back into place.

"Sasha, little bug," he pulls him away slightly, resting him on his arm. "Did I get you? Did I hurt you?" He prepares himself for the worst. But the toddler shakes his head, hugging his arms around the Warden's neck, pulling himself back in. "No, Taddy, I hid. I'm a really good hider."

"You're a mess, baby frog." Puriel smiles down at the fledgling, brushing his curls back, and Sasha smiles up at him, tucking his head under the Warden's chin. "I go fill a washing tub with warm water so you can bathe out here with the rest of us."

Thaddeus thanks him softly, tilting his head down, pressing his lips to the side of the fledgling's head, small tears dripping into his curls. Sasha looks up at him when a tear drips onto his nose, and frowns softly, reaching up to rub his hands over his guardian's cheeks. "No cry, Taddy, it be okay!"

"I'm crying because I'm happy, baby bug," he turns his head slightly, kiss the little fingers pressed against his cheek. "I'm so sorry I scared you into hiding, baby bug, I'm so sorry."

"It okay, Taddy." He wraps his arms around the Warden's neck and hugs him tightly. "You is you now. It all okay."

The door opens, and they both turn to see who it is, Thaddeus knows there's only two people out there that could open that door, and they watch as Nisroc and Titus walk in, one carrying three cots and the other carrying blankets and pillows.

Sasha smiles at them, though they haven't spotted him yet, and waves his hand out. "Hi!"

They both look up at the sound of his voice, and smile, seeing the fledgling back in his beloved guardian's arms, seeing that he wasn't harmed, dirty for sure, but unharmed.

"Hello, baby frog." Nisroc steps forward, setting the cots down to lean against the side of the bed. "How are you?"

"Betta now that Taddy is Taddy 'gain."

"We all are, baby frog, we all are."

Puriel joins them, carrying a large tub of water, and walks around them to set it down in front of the fire. "Here we go."

The Captain smiles at him, nodding. "I'll get you the rest of your washing supplies." He leaves them, caressing both of their cheeks as he slips by, and disappears into the small washroom attached to his bedroom.

Titus smiles, reaching out to poke the fledgling in the belly. "Are you hungry?"

"Mhm."

"Alright, I'll go down to the kitchens and make you something to eat." He turns, heading back out the door, and they watch him close it behind him, keeping the inside private. Thaddeus turns back to the fledgling, they share a smile, and he leans in to rub their noses together. Sasha giggles and leans in to, rubbing their noses together again, and kisses him lightly on the lips. "Missed you, Taddy."

"I missed you too, baby bug, I missed you so much."

"Here we are, a washcloth, soap, and a nice fluffy towel." The oldest Power rejoins them, carrying the aforementioned items in his hands, and Sasha reaches out to feel the towel, just to make sure it was actually fluffy. "All the things you need for a nice bath." He notices Titus's absence. "I'm assuming Tus went to fetch the fledgling something to eat?"

"He did." Both medic and Warden nod to his question. Thaddeus looks back down to the fledgling. "Lets get you all cleaned up, baby bug."

"Okay, Taddy."

He settles the fledgling on his hip, and takes the items Nisroc brought with him, making his way over to the tub in front of the fire. He strips his fledgling while the two Powers make up their three cots, he knows them, they'll stay as long as he needs them to, and he appreciates that, they're one of the few he knows he can trust.

Sasha giggles lightly when he flutters his fingers over his bare belly slightly, and he smiles at the sound, lifting him up under the arms, he sets him to sit in the tub of warm water. Rolling up his sleeves, he dips the soap and washcloth into the water, and lathers them together, until the cloth is nice and sudsy. Then he sets his soap aside and gently begins bathing his fledgling, starting first with his dirty face, being as gentle as he can be, and washes all the way down to his little toes.

Just as they're finished, Titus returns, carrying a small plate in one hand, and a sippy cup of milk in the other, kicking the door closed behind him softly, he smiles at them as the Warden scoops the fledgling up out of the tub and into the warm fluffy towel. He sets the fledgling down on the end of the bed, he knows the Healer gave the two young prisoners sleeping tonics while he was alone with them, there's no worry that they'll wake up, and he rubs the fledgling dry as gently as he can. "Do you want to wear one of my shirts to bed?"

Sasha nods, his curls bouncing lightly, and his thumb makes it's way into his mouth.

Thaddeus smiles, poking him on the nose lightly. "Alright, we can do that."

He leaves the fledgling there, watching Nisroc place his own hand over the barrier, adding his own grace to the mix, it pulses a fiery orange and fades, as he reaches into his wardrobe for a shirt, he turns back to the fledgling on the bed. "Arms up, baby bug." Sasha throws his arms up and he smiles, slipping the shirt up over his head and over his arms. Sasha tilts his head to the side. "No tickles?"

"Oh, you _want _tickles?" He flutters his fingers over the fledglings belly. "I can give you tickles."

"Love Taddy tickles!" Sasha jumps at him, and he catches him mid jump, swinging him around playfully. "Taddy fun!"

There's another knock on his door and he falls still, curling the fledgling in his arms protectively, the Powers come together, the two younger ones falling in behind their Captain, and Nisroc reaches out to open the door.

"Saba?"

Sabaoth seems surprised to see them there, and the others lean out from behind him, the four of them carrying a cot each, pillows and a blanket. "We didn't want Thaddy to be alone."

Osmadiel peers over his older brother's left shoulder. "We came to protect him." Rahab and Yehudiah lean around the oldest guard's right side. "We didn't want him to feel unsafe."

Nisroc smiles at them, reaching out to pat Sabaoth's cheek. "Very thoughtful of you." He turns to the side, stepping away, gesturing for them to enter. "Come in, come in."

The four guards crowd into his room, stepping just passed the door way so Titus can close the door again, and they smile at their Warden. "It's good to have you back, Thaddy."

Rahab and Yehudiah smile at him as they step around him, to set up their cots on the other side of the bed, Osmadiel and Sabaoth set their cots down though, stepping forward, they curl around the Warden and his fledgling. "We missed you, Taddy."

"I missed you too, baby brothers." They press a discreet kiss to both of his cheeks and step around them, to set up their cots too, Os next to Rahab and Saba next to Yehudiah. He doesn't miss the way Sabaoth pushes his cot together with their youngest, they sleep curled up together, they always have when they sleep together, nothing's changed.

"That's enough chattering." Puriel pulls the Warden forward, the fledgling in his arms, Sasha leans up to poke the medic on the cheek, he makes as though he's going to bite his little finger, and the fledgling giggles softly as he pulls his finger back. "You two need to eat your supper."

"Right." Nisroc nods in agreement, pulling his boots off as he sits on the edge of his cot, smiling up at the fledgling when the baby frog looks down at him. "And, then it's time for bed."

Thaddeus sits in his desk chair, turning the fledgling around to sit in his lap, and looks over to his old guardian. "You'll stay?"

"We'll stay for as long as you need us to."

He smiles, turning to his bowl of broth, reaching for a piece of bread to dip in. Sasha smiles happily at his sandwich, peanut butter and banana with no crusts, his favorite, and takes a happy bite from the right corner. He sits on the Warden's right thigh, his hand curled around his belly to keep him in place, and looks up when Taddy lifts a spoonful of warm broth up to his lips, sipping it down, he turns to look down at him when he notices his gaze, and smiles, holding up a spoonful of broth for him too, and he sips it up happily. Leaning back against the Warden, he munches happily at his sandwich, reaching for an apple slice on his plate, he munches on that just as happily, he's all around just a happy little fledgling now that his Taddy is his Taddy again.

Nisroc tucks them both into bed, between Abner and Gadreel, with the fledgling resting on his chest. Titus and Puriel are already asleep, Osmadiel fell asleep ten minutes after he set up his cot. Rahab followed after him, Yehudiah and Sabaoth are curled up together, the younger of the two is fast asleep, the elder has his eyes closed, but he knows he's awake still, his fingers don't pause a minute as they scratch lightly at the back of the younger's head.

The Power strokes his cheek lightly. "Get some sleep, I'm right over there." He points to the only empty cot. "If you need me, just call out, I'll be here in a heartbeat."

Thaddeus smiles at him, petting his hand down the side of the fledglings head, little frog is content, kneading his little fingers into his chest lightly and sucking on his pacifier. "Thanks, papa."

"Always, little frog, always."

…

He doesn't understand why he has to be here with them, he'd much rather be upstairs with his baby brothers, out doing basically anything else, these interviews are boring and time consuming, the Archangel is being very thorough in his questioning. It's not that he feels unsafe, not in the slightest, Michael is on his left side and Nisroc is on his right, Titus and Puriel are behind him, the four guards who came last night stayed upstairs with Abner and Gadreel, keeping them entertained while he was down here.

The only reprieve he has in this time consuming process is the fledgling sitting in his lap, his legs curled around his waist slightly, he looks down at him and smiles, tapping him on the nose, making the baby bug giggle up at him, reaching up to capture his finger as he pulls it away. Sasha turns his hand, holding his finger up, as he leans forward to poke him on the nose with his own finger. He's complete in this moment, his little fledgling in his arms, his baby brothers waiting for him upstairs, his papa and uncles around him, and Michael completing it all.

Thaddeus looks up when the door to his office opens again and another steps in, Sabaoth smiles at them, they smile back. "I wished to join you, Rahab and Yehudiah have gotten the others into quite the card game, the stakes are higher then I've ever seen them, Osmadiel is watching over them."

Titus nods to his request, and the oldest of the Prison guards comes to stand at his side, standing behind his Warden.

The door opens again and another figure steps in, they all recognize him, and Thaddeus frowns lightly, his memories are still a bit hazy, but he doesn't instinctively trust this one, and he pulls Sasha closer to him. The boy doesn't mind, he'd grabbed his pacifier off the Warden's desk before he was pulled in closer, he presses his ear against his guardian's chest, sucking happily at his pacifier, his fingers curled lightly in his tunic.

Theo smiles at them, he doesn't know why, but he sees something deceitful in that smile.

"_Theodore_." Michael recognizes him, he has no need to look down to the list of names in front of him, it had been him who approved Thaddeus's request to make Theo his second in command. "I have but one question for you; you were more then ready to take over his duties when Thaddeus was incapacitated, one might even say you were expecting it, tell me, how did you know to take over his duties on the same day he was _treated_, for lack of a better term."

Theo blinks, he seems a bit uncomfortable, Thaddeus watches him closely, his fledgling wrapped securely in his arms, his lips pressed against the side of his forehead. "I am always prepared to take over in the event he is _unfit _for his duties."

"Yes, yes, as is expected of one's second in command," Michael nods along to it, following his train of thought. "But, tell me this, you took control as soon as Thaddeus left for his meeting with Naomi, how was it you knew that he would be _unfit_ for his duties upon his return?" He looks up from the paper he'd turned down to, if only to change the scenery for a moment, and stares ahead at the Warden's second in command. "One might suggest that you knew something more would come from this _simple _meeting."

"I—"

"Some might suspect you had an idea of what was in store for him."

"I—"

"One might even suggest you were in cahoots with it, part of the master plan, was it not you who delivered the message of Naomi wishing to see Thaddeus?"

"I—"

"Some might even go as far and say that it was you who had chosen him as the first, I'm sure one of many to come, who would notice the change in the Warden other then his guards and prisoners?" Michael crosses his hands before him, his gaze boring into the younger angel's, a gaze that was impossible to shake. Michael had his suspicions, that was becoming obvious. "They may suggest it was you who decided that Thaddeus should be her guinea pig, you know how trusting he is, was it not you who suggested he take Ion with him before he left?"

"How—"

"So, Theodore, what I really would like to know, is how you knew something was going to be happen, before it happened?"

Theo stares at him, then his eyes move over to the current Warden, and he pulls his fledgling closer when something dark passes over his expression. "_It wasn't supposed to break!" _He lunges forward, and they all jump, Thaddeus shoves himself back, curling around his fledgling, Sasha shrieks softly at the sudden movement, his pacifier falling from his mouth, Nisroc jumps in front of him, Titus and Puriel jump around his desk, catching the lunging angel before he can get to him, Sabaoth pushes himself between Michael and Nisroc, and they all turn to look when his sword is drawn fluidly, they hadn't even known he'd had it on him, let it not be said Sabaoth was never prepared, and then to watch Theo fall short, his struggling against the two Powers halting, going cross eyed as he stares down at the point of the sword resting against his throat.

"You are a disgrace." His voice is low, threatening, and Theo's eyes flit up from the sword to meet the oldest guards. He'd never been able to best Sabaoth, never been able to get one passed him, that's why he choose others, Sabaoth was too vigilant. "This is how you repay the one who has given you _everything_. You merely had to ask, and he made sure you _had _it. Who treated you as an equal. Who trusted you _beyond _measure. This is how you repay him for everything he's ever done for you." He pushes his sword closer, a small drop of blood drips down Theo's neck, and Sabaoth spits at him in distaste. "You are a waste. A disgrace. You would make a better _demon_ then an angel. Give me one reason why I shouldn't run you through?"

Michael intervenes then, curling his hand around the hilt of the guard's sword, he lowers it, and jets his chin towards the door. "Give him to the guards outside, take him to the Dungeon, give him the same potion Raphael gave to Naomi and Ion, he can join them in their self-imprisonment." The two Powers nod, dragging the Warden's second in command across the office, handing him off to the two guards outside the door.

Thaddeus takes a deep breath, his attention immediately diverted to the dampness on his chest, he looks down at the fledgling and he coos softly, stroking the fledgling curls back, Sasha was startled by the sudden flurry of movement and he'd started crying softly. "Oh, baby bug, it's alright, you're alright."

"Taadddyyyy!"

"Sshhh, sshhh, it's alright," he kneels slightly, reaching under his desk for the fledglings pacifier, he dips it in his glass up water and rubs the nipple over the fledglings lips until they open again, and he sniffles softly as he sucks on his pacifier, comforted by the closeness he's held against his guardian, his hand rubbing against his back. "Here you go, it's okay, Taddy's got you."

"Well," Michael nods when Sabaoth resheaths his sword, fading back behind them again, returning to his silent sentry like position behind his Warden. "That's everyone." He looks over to the Warden. "I'm sorry, Thaddeus, you've have to find another second in command."

"I've found them."

The archangel tilts his head, a small smile playing at his lips, the Powers listen intently for his new second in command's name. "Oh, that was quick, who might it be?"

"Sabaoth."

_"What?"_

Michael smiles again, Nisroc's hand presses against the small of his back, and the two other Powers are watching the guard in question's astounded reaction with amusement. "Ah, a wise decision, he is a good fit."

"I'm sorry, no, _what?"_ The aforementioned guard pushes forward again, tugging the standing Warden around, his eyes widened with surprise at the sudden promotion. "_Me_?"

"Yes," Thaddeus chuckles softly. "You. I need someone I can _trust _to work at my side, someone who _knows _my prisoners, someone that _they _trust to take care of them. Someone who knows how to keep the _laughter _in this place. And, that's you, you're my new second."

"But—I—_What?"_

He nods. "You can still be a guard, I know how much you like it, and Yehu would be quite upset if I took you away from him. You'll run things only when I'm absent or incapacitated."

Sabaoth stares at him, nodding silently, his mind visibly still trying to process this sudden promotion.

Michael shakes his head slightly in amusement. "I will make my leave. I want to make sure he arrives as safely as one can expect him to." He shoots the flustered guard a smile. "Congratulations on your promotion, Saba."

The guard makes a soft _noise _in appreciation for his congratulations, and he chuckles softly as he makes his departure, closing the door quietly behind him.

Puriel claps his hands softly and they all turn to look at him, except for the baby frog, he's fallen asleep, Thaddeus snags his pacifier up before it can fall from his mouth. "How about we have some lunch?"

They all nod at the suggestion.

"I have to get him down for his nap, too." He looks up at the Captain at his side. "Papa, will you still stay, for a couple more days?"

Nisroc smiles down at him, rubbing his cheek softly. "Of course, little frog, I'll stay for as long as you need me to."

Titus steps up to the medic's side. "We will too." Puriel nods along with him.

Sabaoth recovers just enough to nod along, stepping up on his other side, smiling at him, his face reddened in his semi-flustered state. "I speak for all of us, we will stay until you no longer need us to."

Thaddeus smiles at him, turning to his old guardian, he holds his fledgling out to him. "Will you put him down for his nap, I need to have a word with Sabaoth."

The Captain nods, taking the sleeping fledgling up in his arms, and carries him around the desk, nodding to his two brothers, they step out, closing the door them, giving the Warden and his guard a moment of privacy.

Sabaoth brushes his shoulder length hair back, flustered beyond belief, this was all too much to take in.

"Saba," he ignores the call of his name. "Saba, look at me."

"Thaddy, how could you pick me?" He finally looks up, his eyes wide in disbelief, as though he's struggling to wrap his mind around the fact that he's going to be _Second in Command _to the _Warden_. "Why me?"

"Because, I know you baby brother," he closes the distance between them, pulling him closer, until their resting against each other, he reaches up and curls his arms around the young guards neck, curling his fingers together slightly. "My prisoners know you. You know when laughter is most important to have. You know just what to say to make an upset prisoner calm down again. You offer them a sense of peace, of protection, more so then I can say Theo ever did."

"Why did you make him your Second then?"

Thaddeus sighs softly. "Because I thought the position might change him, he'd always been harsh, I thought shadowing me would show him to loosen up sometimes." He shivers slightly, leaning forward to press their foreheads together. "Evidently, I was wrong." He tilts his head to the side and presses a gentle kiss to his cheek, Sabaoth smiles and tilts his head slightly away. "But, I'm not wrong about you. I've never been wrong about you. You know what action is called for what circumstance. I know that when you find a prisoner who has lost their smile, that you will bring the smile back, you will remind them to keep laughing and smiling. I know that when someone asks for you to stay with them, you'll stay with them until they say they're okay, and even then, you'll stay, just to be sure. I need someone that my prisoners trust, to stand by my side, and that's you."

"But….Me?"

He kisses his cheek again, smiling at the way his cheeks reddened, he's getting more flustered by the minute. "You." He presses another kiss to his cheek, and Saba giggles softly, tilting away from him, but he has little room to escape. "My first pick." His older brother kisses his cheek again and Saba giggles once more. "Taddy, stop!" He kisses his cheek again, chuckling at the way he sputters softly, giggling quietly. "Why?" He presses in another kiss. "It makes you giggle." And another. "And, it's cute." Another one. "Taddy!" He rubs his nose over his cheek gently. "It's adorable how flustered that still makes you."

Sabaoth giggles lightly, pressing his forehead back against his older brothers, Thaddy smiles at him softly, rubbing their noses together, like he had when he was just a small fledgling following the young Warden around everywhere he went, riding on his hip. "I feel like this means you're going to torment me more than you do now."

"Oh, you better believe it."


	258. Back To The Tickles

He giggles as the Warden hovers his wiggling fingers over his bare belly, strapped to the table again, undressed from the waist up, his feet bare at the bottom end, this time he knows his torture isn't going to be painful, he knows what's going to come, he knows how it's going to be, he _knows_.

"Is this belly ready?" The Warden asks playfully, smiling at the boisterous giggles that bounce off the walls around them, the young prisoner watching his fingers with apt attention. "I've got lost time to make up for, so I hope this belly is prepared, it's really in for it."

"Thahahahaddy!"

"We need to bring some laughter back in this place and I've decided I'm starting with you, Zan."

Zander giggles harder when the wiggling fingers dip down towards his belly, tugging on his restraints, kicking his feet as best as he can. "I'm going to give this belly all the love it missed out on during that _bad _period."

His fingers pause in their wiggling, and the prisoners bright violet eyes flit over to his, and he smiles playfully. "Let's get started." Zander shrieks when those fingers suddenly dig into his belly, wiggling circles of tickles around and around, painting a path of playful destruction in their wiggly wake. He shrieks with laughter, tugging on his arms and kicking his legs frantically, trying to suck in his belly despite the bright peals of laughter that make it awfully hard to do so.

Thaddeus chuckles at him, pausing his attack. "Let's make this interesting, every time you suck in your belly, you get two berries." He shakes his head, Thaddy knows how to play this game, and he knows how to play this game well. "Do you remember the berries?" He leans over him slightly, drawing his arms behind his back, curling his fingers together. "Do you need me to remind you of them?"

"No! Nohoho! I rehehemember!"

"I think I should show you."

"You dohon't need tohoho!"

"Well," he smiles lightly. "Let's just as this belly what it thinks." He leans over him, looking down at his belly, hovering just above his belly button. "Belly, do you need a demonstration on the matter that is berries?" He turns his head slightly, pressing his ear against his belly, humming as though words were exchanged. "I see, I do, I would be delighted to." He pulls away slightly, turning to look him in the eyes, that playful light gleams in the Warden's eyes, he missed that light. "Your belly seems to think it needs reminded."

"It's lyhyhying!"

"Belly's _never_ lie."

"It ihihis! It is!"

"Now, Zander, I think I would know if bellies lie, I talk to a lot of bellies in a single day, and I have yet to hear one tell me a lie." He looms back out over his belly. "Let me oblige this belly's wishes."

"No! No, Thaddy! Stay away! Not those! Not berries! Don't do it! Dohohon't dohohoho ihihihit!"

The Warden takes a deep breath, bending over him, his arms still crosses behind his back, and lowers his head down, pressing his lips over his belly button, and rests there. The boy squeals softly, kicking his legs again, sucking in his belly as much as he can. Thaddeus chuckles, releasing his big breath, and rubs his nose over the small belly button. "You just really want those berries, don't you?"

"Nohoho! Nohohot beheheherries! Hahahahhahahaahahahaha! Plehehehhehease!"

He takes another deep breath and presses in deeper then before, this time he knows it's coming, and Zander tries to prepare himself for it.

He can't.

"EEIEIAIAHAAHHAHAHAHAHHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHHAHA! NO! NOHOHOHO EEIEIIAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHA! THADDY EEAIAIAIAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA NOT THOSE EEIEIAIAAHAAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA! NO MORE AHAHAHAHAHEEIEEIEIAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAA NOHOHO MOOHHOHOHOORE! EEIIEIEAHAHAHHAHHAHA AHAHHAHAAHAHHA HOLD IT HOHOHOHOLD IIIEIEIEIIEEHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHA HAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAA!"

"Do you remember what berries are now, little belly?" He laughs freely as the Warden presses his ear back over his belly, nodding along mockingly, and gives a soft hum. "Of course, I can show you one more time."

"No! NO! Thaddy! Get away! Not those! Not berries! Please!"

"I'm sorry, Zan, I'm only doing what this belly wants."

"Nohhohoho!" Zander tenses when he feels the Warden press his lips back over his belly button, holding onto a massive breath. "EIEIEIAAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA THADDY NO EEIEIEIIEAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! IT KNOWS IT KNOWS EEEIEIEIIEAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA HAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA EIEIIEAIHAAHAHHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHA IT KNOWS!"

"Are you sure?"

"I'M SURE! I'M REALLY SURE!"

"Alright, if you're sure." Thaddeus sits back up again, pulling his hands out from behind his back, he leans against the edge of the table and smiles down at him. "I just wanted to be sure, I mean, your belly _did _ask me to show it again." He holds two fingers out over his belly. "Now, remember, you suck in that belly, you get two berries."

The young prisoner nods quickly, vowing not to suck in his belly, no matter what sort of torture may be laid upon him.

"Good boy." He pokes his two fingers all over his belly, in random places, there is no way for him to map out any sort of pattern. "You're doing better than I thought you would." He does giggle too, shimmying from side to side, as much as his binds will allow, watching those two fingers closely with his bright violet eyes. "Now, for the true test." He raises a single finger for him to see, and he stares at it intently, watching as that finger turns, pointing down at him, and slowly begins to lower. He falls still when the finger pokes into his belly button, standing there, the Warden staring down at him as though waiting for his reaction.

He shrieks when the finger starts to wiggle, and he can't help it, he tells himself not to, he orders himself to hold it back, but it happens, and he sucks in his belly.

"Oh, ho, ho, I knew that would work!" Thaddeus leans over him, resting his hand on his other side, curling his fingers around his side to keep him from squirming away. "Time for your berries."

"No!"

"Yes!" He takes a deep breath and rushes down, pressing his face into his belly, and blows a massive raspberry over his belly button.

Zander throws his head back with a bright squeal of laughter. "EEIIEIAIAAAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAA I'M SORRY EEEIEIIEAIIAAHIAHAHAHHAHAHHAHHAHAHA IT WAS A MISTAKE EEIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA! WAIT WAIT EEIEIIEAIAIHAAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAA YOU ONLY SAID TWO EEIIEIEAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHHA! THADDY EEIEIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHHA YOU SAID TWO EEIEIEIAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!"

"I know," the older angel stands back up, poking him playfully in the side, smiling as he giggles breathlessly. "But, you're just so darn cute, I can't help myself."

"I'm cuhuhute?"

He nods as he walks around to stand at the head of the table, leaning against the edge to loom over him. "Adorable." Zander smiles, puckering up his lips, and the Warden chuckles, bending over to give him a kiss. "Absolutely, adorable." He wiggles a finger over his left armpit. "What am I going to do up here?"

The young prisoner giggles lightly, leaning as far away from that wiggling finger as he possibly can. "Nothing!" He bites his lip in an attempt to keep the giggles at bay. Thaddeus smiles down at him, wiggling a finger over his other armpit when he takes in his attempt at escape, Zander giggles despite the grip he has on his lip and looks between the two wiggling fingers. "Nothing? Are you sure?"

He nods quickly, giggling harder when the fingers slowly start to lower, their wiggling never ceasing. "Yes! Yehehes!"

"I don't know, that doesn't sound like me." His fingers come to a standstill, poking into the hollows of his armpits, he tilts his head to the side. "That doesn't sound like something I'd do. _Nothing_. I'll tell you what does sound like something I'd do." He wiggles his fingers around and the prisoner shrieks, bright peals of laughter exploding from him, and Thaddeus smiles down at him. "Armpit tickles." Zander looks up at him, boisterous laughter echoing around the room, as he twists his wrists in the straps that hold his arms above his head, flexing his fingers, he curls his fingers around the hem of the Warden's tunic and tugs desperately. He looks down at the tugging on his shirt, smiling at his fingers clutching at his tunic, reaching down to curl his fingers around the fists clutching at his shirt.

He giggles breathlessly. "Cuhuhuddles now, Thaddy?"

"Oh, you want _cuddles_ now?" He chuckles softly when the younger angel nods up at him. "Alright, we can have some cuddles now." He unstraps his wrists gently, helping the youth into a sitting position, walking around the side of the table to unstrap his ankles. Zander scoots down to the bottom of the table, kicking his feet lightly, he reaches out. "Bubbles?" Thaddeus smiles, turning towards the table behind him, and plucks the boy's stuffed octopus up, handing it over to him. Zander smiles, hugging the stuffed animal to his chest tightly, he looks up when he feels the Warden tug him closer. "Come on, little guy, let's go get some cuddles."

"Yay!" He curls his arms around the older angel's neck as he's lifted from the table, making sure to keep his grip firmly on one of Bubbles tentacles, Thaddeus carries him across the room and pulls the door to the torture chamber open. He smiles at the others that peer out from their cells, and winks playfully, they had to hear the commotion from inside, and he hopes they did, that's what's coming back full force. The laughter. They all needed laughter. He turns up the stairs, pressing a kiss to the boy's cheek as he makes his way upstairs, Zander smiles, he feels him smile, and he presses another kiss to his cheek.

Zander was a special prisoner, he was a little shit most of the time, the quietest little prisoner he had, one could forget he was there until he moved, and it caught you be surprise. But he was cute, adorable even, sitting at the bars of his cell talking to Sasha as the little fledgling colored with him. He was Sasha's favorite prisoner, a friend even, and any friend of his baby frog was a friend to him. And, you could make him giggles just by wiggling your fingers at him, if that wasn't adorable, he didn't know what was.

And, he was a cuddle bug. He's the only prisoner he has who asks for cuddles nearly on a daily basis, and who's he to deny someone cuddles when they ask so nicely, he'd sit at his desk working on paperwork with the little prison straddling his lap, sleeping soundly with his stuffed octopus, he wasn't a nuisance in the slightest, a warm weight.

He opens the door to his room with his foot, closing it with his heel, he carries the young prisoner over to his bed. "Okay, you climb under the blankets, I have to take off my boots."

Zander nods, slipping under the blankets, he hugs his octopus to his chest as he watches the Warden sit on the edge of the bed and untie his boots, pulling them off, setting them together on the edge of his bed. He turns, sliding under the blankets with him, and lays on his side, opening his arms for the young prisoner to slide into. The youngling scoots over, pressing himself against his chest, Bubbles the octopus squished between them, and he curls his arms around him, pulling him against him.

He kisses him on the forehead. "Here's your cuddles, little guy."


	259. First Day On The Job

He looks up as the door to his office opens, waiting to see who it was before calling out, and raises his eyebrows when his new secondary warden steps in, closing the office door behind him, standing from his chair when they finally look up and he sees the tears trailing down his cheeks.

"Saba, what's wrong?" Thaddeus steps out from behind his desk, crossing to his side quickly, pulling him forward by the arm. "What happened?"

"T—Thaddy, I don't w—want to be your s-second anymore!"

He pulls him into his office, seating him in one of the chairs before his desk, curling his fingers around his cheeks, rubbing away tears as they fell from his eyes. "Why not, you were so happy when I appointed you, what happened?"

Sabaoth rubs at his eyes, sniffing deeply, more tears falling down. "T—They're all s—so mean! I—I liked it b—better when I—I was just a g—guard!"

"Who's mean?" He tilts his head up, rubbing his cheeks with his thumbs again. "Tell me what happened, baby brother."

"M—Mendrion and R—Rogziel!" He stutters. "The one's T—Theo appointed!" He cries out. "T—They're so m—mean!"

"What happened, baby brother, tell me what happened so I can make it better."

"T—They said I was t—too soft! T—That Theo kn—knew better! T—That I don't d—deserve it!"

"Oh, Sabaoth, I'm so sorry." He kneels, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I knew there might be some strife about your appointment, especially by those he brought in, but I've been so busy I forgot to set them straight about his leaving and your appointment."

Sabaoth sniffled miserably. "I—I don't want t—to go b—back out there ag—again."

"Oh, no, you're done for the day." He kisses him on the forehead again. "Come on, you're going upstairs, away from all those jerks. You can take a nap or read a book or do some drawing, I don't care, but you can stay up there while I deal with your tormentors."

"O—Okay, Thaddy."

"Good angel." He stands, pulling the younger warden to his feet, guiding him across his office. He pulls the door open, and when he sees who stands just a pace away, he sends them a cold glare, and takes pleasure in the visible shiver that emanates from them.

_'Good.' _He thinks to himself. _'Let them be afraid.' _He guides the younger warden upstairs to his quarters. Sabaoth sniffles, rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand, stepping into his room when the older Warden opens the door. "Here we are, safe and sound." He walks him over to sit on the edge of the bed, tilting his head back up, he rubs his cheeks clean. "You do whatever you want up here, just don't wreck the place, and I'll set them straight."

Sabaoth nods languidly. "Okay, Thaddy."

"Good boy." He leans in, kissing him on the forehead again. "I'll bring supper up later, alright?"

"Alright, Thaddy."

He leaves him there, free to do as he pleases in the safety of the Warden's room and closes the door behind him before he makes his way back down the stairs. Thaddeus is pleased that they're still there when he returns. He waves a finger at them threateningly. "I'd like to see you two in my office."

Both young guards nod lightly, stepping forward, crossing before him as they enter his office. He sighs, nodding slightly to himself, he hates having to be the bad guy, but he doesn't believe in firing his guards, especially the young ones, the ones that simply needed more guidance, and Titus had agreed to leave it up to him to deal with them, unless it was an extenuating circumstance.

This was not one of those circumstances, not in his opinion, so he'd deal with it in house instead of involving their captain.

Nodding again, he turns, stepping into his office. They jump when he pulls the door closed a bit harsher than usual, and he stands there behind them, watching their body language, Theo had even him fooled, they just needed redirection.

"So, you think I'm soft, huh?"

The one on the right tenses, but the one on the left nods firmly, turning to look at him. "You're too soft. You don't _punish _them for their crimes."

"I don't _punish _them?" He steps forward, crossing the office slowly to stand before the guard, he's much taller, the little guard has to tilt his head back to maintain his gaze. "I punish _everyone _in _my _Prison, I just don't do it publicly, typically, when my office door is closed, you can assume it's because I am punishing someone." He tilts his head downward, looming over the mislead guard. "I am not _abusive_. I do not _beat _my prisoners. That does not make me _soft_, it makes me _compassionate_, it makes me _respected_. I can ask my prisoners to do anything, and they'd do it without complaint, because they _respect _me." He steps forward, and because his stature is larger then the guard, it forces him to take a step back. "Like I said, I punish _everyone _in _my _Prison, my prisoners, and my _guards_."

Mendrion's eyes widen. "What?"

"I don't tolerate bullying in my Prison, between prisoners, guard and prisoner, or guard and guard." He leans forward, curling his hands over his hips. "And, since you spoke up, you volunteered to go first."

The young blond curly headed guard steps back again. "_What?"_

Mendrion was at a loss, they both were, their minds reeling. Theo never spoke about this part of the Warden when he complained about him, he never said anything like this, they didn't know any of this. "Come on, Mendrion, what's there to worry about, I'm _soft, _remember?"

He watches Thaddeus step around him, heading for the closet behind his desk, pulling the door open slightly, he reaches in for something, and his mind whirls when he pulls out a thick leather belt. He waves him forward. "Come on, Mendrion, let me show you how _soft _I am."

Mendrion feet move without his permission, carrying him around the Warden's desk, he didn't know this side of the man. He folds the belt over in his hand, gesturing to the wall beside him with it, and Mendrion follows his gesture with his eyes. "Why don't you bare yourself and brace yourself against the wall while I show you how _soft _I am." He shakes his head silently and the Warden leans forward. Face to face. "_Do it." _

The young guard nods quickly, stepping to his side, pulling his trousers down slightly, he braces himself against the wall just as he was told.

Thaddeus points at the other one before his desk. "You move and I'll _hunt you down, _Rogziel." Satisfied with the younger guards startled nod, he turns around to look at the one leaning against the wall, throwing his arm around quickly, the guard shrieks when the belt comes down on his bare bottom harshly, jumping forward, he throws his hands back. "Hands against the wall, Mendrion." He shakes his head frantically. _"Hands against the wall_." His hands fly forward, something in the back of his mind telling him he'd better do so and braces himself again. The belt thwaps over his bottom again, and he shrieks once more, bouncing on the balls of his feet as it comes down again and again, howling at every strike. "Does this seem _soft, _Mendrion?" The aforementioned guard shrieks again, tears streaming down his face, seven harsh smacks later. "Is this too _soft _for you?"

"Nohohohoho! Nohohohot sohohohoft! Nohohohot sohohohoft! OOWWWWWIIIEEEEE!"

"Do you know what happens when you bully someone in my Prison?"

"Yehehehehes! Nohohoho mohohohohore! I'm sohohohohorry!"

"Am I ever going to hear about you bullying someone else again?"

"Nohohohoho! Neehehehehehhever! Nehehehheehehehever ahahahahhaagain!"

"Good, because I don't like doing this, I don't like being the bad guy, I like having fun, I like the sounds of laughter, seeing a smile on others faces."

He gives on final harsh blow and pulls away, turning away from the sobbing guard, turning around to his desk. "Okay, pull your trousers up, Mendrion." The guard heaves a sob, pulling his trousers up, he turns around to look at him. Thaddeus turns back around, the belt resting on his desk, and looks down at him in his pitiful state. "Do you want me to comfort you, Mendrion?"

Mendrion nods slightly, rubbing at his bottom, breathing out another sob.

The Warden opens his arms for him. "C'mere, Mendi." The little guard steps forward, falling into his embrace, pressing his face to the older angel's chest, and he leans in closer when his arms wrap around him. He rubs his hand down the back of the chastised guards head. "This is why Theo calls me soft, because I'm a comforter, because I show affection, that doesn't make me soft, Mendi, that makes me compassionate, it makes me _kind_."


	260. I Cant Take It

"I can't _take _it anymore!" They both look up when he slaps his hands down on the table, they'd noticed how tense he was when he joined them, but neither wanted to say anything until he brought it up, brought up whatever was bothering him, in fear of setting him off. "I can't _take _it!" He raises his shaking hands, curling them around his mouth, staring into something they can't see, lost in his own thoughts.

Nisroc sets his bowl down, his breakfast complete, and leans back against the counter. "Can't take what, Puri?"

"All of it! Every single bit!" His eyes flash dangerously, his grace rolling just under the surface, and drops his fists down on the table top. "The way they look at me! Like I'm here to serve them at their beck and call! Like I'm some sort of traitor when I refuse to heal their injuries brought on by shear stupidity! I'm not some sort of _servant_! I don't work _for _them!"

"Okay, Puri," Nisroc raises his hands placatingly, they had been running the medic rampant, nonstop for the last couple of days. "Okay, calm down, little brother."

"I _am _calm! This is calm!"

"Sure, you are." He steps up behind the medic, rubbing at his shoulders soothingly, and Puriel makes a soft sound of comfort, leaning into the touch. "I think you could use some sleep. You've been working nonstop for all of us these past couple of days."

"Sure!" He throws his hands up. "As soon as I get comfortable, you'll all wake me up because someone _else _needs me to help them!"

"Not this time, big brother." Titus reaches across the table, curling his fingers around the older Power's fists, squeezing them gently. "We've been using you as a means to an end, and it's wrong, you need to be cared for too."

"Damn right, I do!" He barks at them. "I have needs too!"

"Yes, you do, little brother." Nisroc finds a particular hard knot in his shoulders and works at it, and he groans softly, leaning back into his stomach as he massages the knot free. "It was wrong of us to use you as we have, no more, we'll take of you now, you need some tender care."

"I do, Nis."

"You most certainly do." He taps him on the shoulders. "Come on, up."

He whines softly, nudging him with his elbow. "Don't stop, feels good."

"Come on, Puri, I'll keep rubbing your shoulders, come with me." He steps back, and the medic sways lightly with the sudden removal of the force holding him up but catches himself soon enough. "Lets go lay down in the Lounge, and I'll keep rubbing your shoulders, you're much too tense."

Puriel looks up at him from over his shoulder. "Promise?"

He smiles down at the younger power, patting his head lightly. "I do."

The medic nods, standing from his seat, he follows the oldest Power to the Lounge, his baby brother following close to his side. Nisroc sits down among the pillows, leaning back against them, he pulls the medic down, situated between his legs, he resumes rubbing at his shoulders. Puriel sighs in content leaning back against him heavily, and Titus toes his ankles apart, situating himself between his older brothers legs, leaning back against him just as he leaned back against their oldest brother, and the medic snakes his arms around the younger Power's waist, pulling him closer. He was comfortable and warm, squished between his two brothers, it was nice, this was nice, his two-favorite people. His baby brother and his oldest brother.

"This is nice." He rests his head back against his oldest brother's chest. "I like this."

"Are you comfortable, Puri?" Nisroc's beard rubs against his ear as he leans forward. "Does it make you feel better?"

He nods lightly. "Yea." He settles back completely, falling limp against him. "Yea, it does."

"Good, good," he finds another knot, and the younger Power groans softly, falling limp against him. "Why don't you close your eyes, go ahead, close those eyes."

He nods, closing his eyes lightly, sighing deeply in comfort, he settles in completely. Puriel feels himself drifting, surrounded by his two favorite people, warm between the two of them, holding onto his baby brother and leaning back against his oldest brother, he drifts, falling into a light state, somewhere caught between consciousness and semi consciousness.

"You go on, go to sleep, you just take a long nice nap."

"Mmm….Okay, big brother…."


	261. In The Throws Of A Temper Tantrum

"Zoph, it's time to head back."

"Not yet, papi." The boy throws the ball again, watching his puppy guard chase after it happily, laughing when he jumps to catch it and tumbles over when he lands. "I'm playing."

"I can see that, but the sun is starting to set, and it's time to get you back."

"Not _yet_!" Qaspiel trots back to him and drops the ball at his feet, bouncing back, waiting for him to throw it again. "I'm _not _done yet!"

Nisroc rests his hands on his hips and frowns. "Zophiel, stop throwing that ball and let's go, it's time to go back."

"No!" He throws the ball and the puppy chases after it. "Not yet!"

"Zophiel, I am not going to tell you again." Honestly, he feels for the boy, the only way he can leave the Prison is if he escorts him, and it's been a little while since their last excursion, they'd gotten some new trainees and he'd been rather busy as of late, this is the first time in two and a half weeks he's been able to get away long enough to be allowed to bring the boy out. "It's time to go."

The youngling throws his arms down, ball clutched firmly in his hand, and spins around. "Not _yet_, papi, I'm _playing_!" He can see the signs of a temper tantrum from a mile away, and yep, there goes the petulant stomping. "I _don't_ want to go back _yet." _

"That's enough, Zophiel, I'm only going to tell you one more time, come, it's time to go."

_"No!" _The young angel stomps his foot. "I don't _want _to!"

Alright, enough is enough, he's given the boy plenty of time to follow his order, it was time to go, no amount of temper tantruming was going to change that. He sighs deeply, marching forward, he snags the youngling by the ear and pulls him forward. "When I tell you to do something, you better do so with haste, young man."

Qaspiel follows after them as they march from the Garden, silently, he knows better then to bark at him.

"Ow, papi, you're hurting me!" Zophiel curls his fingers around his wrist and tugs lightly, yelping when he tightens his grip around his ear. "Let go! It hurts!"

"You think this hurts, just wait and see what's in store for you when we get back."

His eyes widen at the implication of that statement, following briskly at the Captain's side as he leads him forward by the ear, his fingers curled tightly around his ear. "Papi, I'm sorry!"

"Oh, apologetic now, are we?" He guides him up the stairs to the Prison one by one. "Where did this big bad defiant young man go? The one who decided to throw a temper tantrum in the middle of the Garden, where'd he run off to?"

"Papi, I'm sorry, I won't do it again!"

"No, you will not." Nisroc nods to Aeshma as she pulls open the door and they march inside, down the hall towards the Warden's off and the stairs that lead to the upstairs. "I will ensure that." He looks down at the puppy trotting at his side and Qaspiel looks up at him. "You will wait in Thaddeus's office." The puppy guard barks softly, trotting over to the office door, squeezing in through the cracked door, and Nisroc turns them towards the stairs, pulling him upstairs to their living quarters. He opens the door to Thaddeus's room and pulls him around, marching him inside, closing the door behind them for privacy.

He brings him to stand in the middle of the room. "Bare yourself."

"Papi, no, please, I'm sorry!"

He squeezes the ear a tad bit firmer. "_Bare yourself."_

Zophiel sniffles, fumbling with the belt around his waist, tugging his trousers down slightly. Gulping softly, he stumbles forward when the Power moves, his grip on his ear unrelenting. "Papi, nooo!"

"Let me show you what happens to those who throw temper tantrums in front of me." He sits on the edge of the Warden's bed and pulls him around, letting go of his ear in favor of gripping his arm, Zophiel sniffles again as he's pulled over, overturned over the Captain's lap, his bare rear end raised in the air. "When I tell you to come, you had better come, or this is how we'll end every trip out." He stiffens when a large hand presses over his bare left cheek, whining softly when it pulls away, swinging up in the air, and cries out when it comes back down sharply, a resound smack echoing around them. A pattern forms, left then right, over and over again, and he squirms, crying out, pleading for him to stop, but the falls continue unperturbed. "I can't help it that you are stuck here, if it were up to me, you'd be allowed to come and go just as easy as your siblings can, but I can't change that you can't, when I take you out, I expect you to listen to me, when I say it's time to come back, there is no more waiting, there is no delaying, and there most certainly is no _temper tantrums_, when I say it's time to come back then it's time to come back, am I understood?"

Zophiel nods frantically, crying into his hands, it wasn't fair, he'd had to wait almost a whole month before he'd been allowed outside, and he didn't mean in the atrium, well and truly outside, to the Garden, where they always went when he was taken out, he just hadn't wanted it to end so soon, and now he was in trouble, it wasn't fair. "I will! I will! Please, papi! No more! I'm sorry!"

"If you throw _another _temper tantrum, we'll end up back in this _same _position, do you understand me?"

"Yeeessssss! Papi! Hurts! It hurts!"

"Good angel." The rain of spanks stop, and he heaves a small sob, crying into his hands softly, stumbling up to his feet when he's guided up off the Captain's lap. Nisroc reaches into his pocket for a handkerchief, cleaning him up, mopping up his tears, and curls the cloth around his nose. "Give a blow, nieto." He sniffles, blowing softly into the handkerchief, and the Power rubs his nose clean, leaning over to the side slightly to tuck the cloth back in his pocket. He spotted it when they entered, the boy must have been staying with the Warden at the moment, perhaps because it had taken so long to get him out for the day. He reaches around for his beloved bear. "Here, it's alright, hug your bear."

The young prisoner hugs his bear tightly, sniffling pitifully, blinking down up at the Power as he stands up from the edge of the bed. Nisroc smiles down at him, curling his fingers under his arms, Zophiel hops up at the silent command for him to do so, and the Captain pulls him up into his arms. He curls his arms around his neck as he curls his arms under him, holding him up against his chest, the younger angel buries his face in the Power's shoulder, hugging his bear close to his side.

"I'm sorry, papi." He whispers softly. "I didn't mean to make you mad."

"I'm not mad, nieto." Nisroc rubs at the back of his head as he makes his way across the room and reopens the door as they make their leave, pulling it closed behind them, he makes his way downstairs slowly, rubbing at the back of the youth's head comfortingly. "I understand. I'll try and make time sooner for us to go out again. I'm sorry you had to wait that long."

"It's okay, papi." He mumbles quietly. "I know you're busy." He turns, pressing his nose against the Captain's neck. "Thank you, for taking me out, papi."

"You are most welcome, nieto, I love spending time with you." The Captain presses a kiss to the side of his head. "No more temper tantrums, okay?"

"Okay, papi."

He turns the corner, walking them into the Warden's office, Qaspiel and Thaddeus look up at them at their entrance. "Everything okay?"

The Captain nods lightly, sitting in one of the chairs across from him, the boy situated in his lap. "Everything's just fine."


	262. Just Always So Busy

"Jahoel, did you take my keys?" He turns around from the desk in his room, having searching it a thousand times, and not finding the elusive set of keys, and turned to the one reclining on his bed, who had a history of taking keys. "I can't find them anywhere, and I _know _I put them on my desk."

The boy looks up from the book he was reading. "What keys?" He tilts his head to the side.

Thaddeus narrows his eyes slightly. "_My _keys."

Jahoel leans over, reaching into his pocket, and pulls out a ring of keys. "These keys?"

"Give me my keys, Jahoel." He holds his hand out. "I have to get downstairs."

The younger angel shakes his head lightly, curling the keys in his fingers, and turns back to his book. "Nah, thanks though."

"Jahoel, give me my keys. I'm being serious."

Jahoel holds a finger up, finishing his page, marks it, and closes the book, setting it down beside him on the bed. He holds the keys out to him mockingly, smirking smugly, the Warden couldn't go anywhere without his keys. "Why don't you come and take them, then."

"Are you…Are you _challenging _me?"

"Does it sound like a challenge?"

"It sounds like a challenge to me."

Jahoel shrugs his shoulder, curling his fingers around the keys again, and pulls his fist back. "Then, yes, I'm challenging you."

Thaddeus smiles at him wickedly. "Oh, ho, ho, I accept your challenge, little guy, I hope you don't expect to win." He takes a step forward, then another, and Jahoel shrieks when the man jumps over him, grunting loudly when he lands over top of him.

The boy grins at him, holding the keys up above his head, shaking his head. "Oh, I'm pretty confident."

"Oh, but I _know _who's going to win." He positions himself into just the right position. "And, it's not you."

"Prove it."

"Alright, just remember, you asked for this."

He pulls the boy's tunic up, takes a deep breath, and rushes down to bury his face in his belly. Jahoel's eyes widen, a shriek pulled from him from the action, and immediately he has second thoughts. It wasn't like he was up to no good, Thaddy had just been rather busy recently, and they hadn't gotten to spend much time together, he just wanted a bit of time with him.

Jahoel throws his head back, squealing brightly when he finally blows his raspberry, both of his hands flying down to push at his head. "EIEEIIEAIAIHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHA!"

Thaddeus chuckles, snagging his keys from the youngling's fingers, and winks up at him. "I win."

The boy frowns lightly and he raises an eyebrow. "Please don't go yet, Thaddy, I haven't gotten to see you _all _week."

"Ah, I see," the Warden nods lightly. "You just want to spend some time together."

Jahoel nods silently. "You've been really busy lately."

"I can make some time for you, Oel, don't worry." He reaches back and tucks his keys in his pocket, looking back down to the boy's belly, eyeing it over carefully. "I can make some time right now, in fact." He takes another breath and rushes back down, burying his face back in his belly, and Jahoel shrieks again, his fingers curling in the Warden's hair.

"EEIEIAIIAIAIAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH NOHOHOHOHOHOO! EEIIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHHAHAHHAA EEIEIEIAIIAIAIAIHHAHAHAHHAAHHAHA THIS ISN'T WHAT I MEANT AAHAHHAHHAHEIEIEIEAIIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHA!"

"This isn't what you meant?" He looks up at him, digging his fingers in his lower belly, wiggling them in viciously. "I do still have to punish you for taking my keys."

"I'm sorry?"

"You're gonna be."


	263. Taking Down The Giant

They struggle to hold him down, two of them holding his arms above his head, one of them straddling his stomach, another straddling his waist, one of them sitting on his ankles, to keep him in place as much as they can. He doesn't make it easy either, tugging fiercely at his arms, kicking his legs as best as he can, all the while absolutely howling with laughter as the first digs viciously into his ribs, the second kneads into his thighs, and the third scribbles their fingers all over his souls, getting the toes intermittently.

"Aahahahhahahahahhahah ahahahahahahahahahah! Stohohohohop! Ahahahhahaahhaha hahahahahhahha! Juhuhuhust wahahhahahhahaait untihhihihihil I gehehehheheheet ohohohohout ohohohhoohohof thihhihihihihihihis!"

Abraxos grunts as he nearly loses his grip on their Captain's right arm. "Guys, get your last digs in, I don't think I can hold him for very much longer."

"Agreed." Titus shifts, curling his arms around the oldest Power's lower arm tighter. "I'm losing my grip."

It's only a minute, maybe two, that pass when his right arm breaks free. Abraxos takes that as his cue to make his escape, stumbling to his feet, he runs, Titus on his heels, taking the stairs two at a time as they make their leave. The one sitting over his ankles, Haniel, stumbles to his feet, darting down the hall, most likely to find a place to hide in the massive washroom. Puriel jumps up from over his waist and darts down the stairs. He curls his arms around the one sitting on his stomach before they can stand, rolling them over, Sablo shrieks at the sudden change in position.

"Wait! No! NO! Don't leave me!"

"You're mine now." Is the only thing he says before he shoves his head under his tunic and starts blowing berries all over his belly and sides, Sablo screams in laughter, pushing desperately at his head under his tunic, kicking his legs wildly as he tries to push himself out from under him, but his Captain reaches back, digging his fingers into his thighs, and he squeals loudly, throwing his legs back down.

"EEIIAIAHAHAHHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHHA STOHOHOHOHOOP! EIEIEIAIHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA AHEIEIIEIEIEIAAAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHA AEEIEIIEIEAAHAHAHHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHHEHEHHAHAHAHAHHHEASE! EEEIIEIEIAAIAHAHAHHAHAHAHA AHAHHAHAHAHA AEIEIEIEHHEAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA AHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHA HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAAHA EEIEIIEAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHA AHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHOHOHO! EEIEIEIIAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH AHAHHAHAHHHAHA EIEIEIEAAAAIAIAIAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA! I'M SORRY! AAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAAEIEIEIEIEAAIAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AEIEIEIEIAIAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAA AAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHHAHAHA EIEIAIAIAHAHAAHHAHAHAHHAHHA AHAHHAHAHHAA EIEIEIIEAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHHAHA!"

…

Puriel screams with laughter tugging on his arms, trapped above his head by one of his Captain's hand, his free hand jumping between both of his armpits, fluttering his fingers and digging in harshly, torturing him within an inch of his life.

"This is what you get, you little shit, how do you like this."

He knew, of course, that his oldest brother would hunt them down to seek his revenge.

"AAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAH AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAA HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! STOOHOHOHOHOHOP STOHOHOHHOHOHOP! AAAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAA EEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHA! NONOOHHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO AHAHAHHAHAHHAHAA HEEHEHEHEHHHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAHA! IM SOHHOHOHOHOHORRY! I'M SORRY! EEHEHEHEHHEHEHEEEAAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Oh, you're going to be, when I'm done with you."

…

Titus knew his time was coming, it was only a matter of time for his oldest brother to find him, hiding deep in the Garden behind a large row of trees, laying on his belly behind a large rock. He'd tried to make his escape when his brother appeared through the tree line, but Nisroc pointed a finger at him firmly, and his escape plans went down the drain when he found himself stuck to the spot he lay on, it was unfair that he'd used his grace to keep him in place, but Nisroc was out for revenge, so it was expected, in some ways.

His oldest brother smirked at him. "My turn." And maneuvered himself to sit on his lower back, resting down on his knees, and Titus tenses as he waits for what's to come, Nisroc was out for revenge, he was going to go for the spot that caused the most damage.

That was his thighs.

He shrieks, squealing with laughter when fingers dig viciously into his thighs, curled inwards, squeezing and pinching up his leg and back down to his knees, digging into a particularly sensitive spot. Nisroc digs his fingers into his under thighs, and he screams with laughter, pounding his fists against the soft ground under him.

"EEIEIEIEIAIAIIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHAHHAA NOHOHOHOHOHOHO AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! EIEIEIAIAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NIHIHIHIHIHIS AHAHAHAHHAHAHHHAHAHA! I'M SOHOHHOHOHORRY AAHAHAHAHAHHAHEEIEIIEIEAIAIAIAIAHAAHAHAHAHAHA PLEEHEHEHHEHEHHEASE! AHAHAHAHAHHAHAEIEIIEIEEIIAEAAIAIAIAAAHAAHHAHAHAHAHHA NOHOHOHOHHO AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHA!"

"Oh, your thighs are _mine_."

…

Haniel is special, that's _his _baby brother, the one he helped raise, his little baby Hani, so he takes special pleasure in breaking him.

He's not surprised to find the third youngest Power hiding in his own room, naturally it would be the last place he'd look for him, who in their right mind would hide in their tormentor's own room, but he knew his precious baby brother, he knew him well, he knew he'd be hiding in his room.

Curling his arms around his waist, he pulls him close to his chest, falling back over his bed. Haniel shrieks as they tumble over backwards, kicking out when he digs his fingers into his lower belly, wiggling them in viciously. "I'm going to get you, baby brother."

He buries his face into the side of his neck, rubbing his beard into the sensitive skin, and Haniel squeals as he kicks his legs and tugs on the oldest Power's arms.

"EEIIEAIIAAIAHAHAHHAHAA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! NOHHOHOHOHOHOHOHOO AHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAA EIEIEIIIAIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA! NOHOHOHOHOOT THEHEHEHEHE BEEHEHEHEHHEHEARD! AHAHAHAHAHHAHEEEIIEIEIAIAIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA NIHIHIHIHIHIS! AHAHAHHAHAHAH BIHIHIHIHIG BROOHOHOHOHOHOTHER! AHAHHAHAHAHAA I'M SORRYYYEEIEIEIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Oh, you will be."

…

He corner's Abraxos, he doesn't have to go all out on him, it's the simplest things that get him going. Nisroc wiggles his fingers into his sides lightly, kissing him on the cheeks playfully, smiling as the younger quiet Power giggles feverishly, shaking his head from side to side to try and get him away from his cheeks. It's not the fingers that wiggle into his sides that get him, it's the kisses to his cheeks that get him.

"This is adorable." He kisses his right cheek. "That this is what gets you." He presses a kiss to his left cheek. "You haven't changed a bit, Abe."

"Nihihihiis! Stohohohoohop! Stohohohohop ihihihihit! Ehehehehehhehehehe! Stohhoohohohop kihihihihissing myhyhyhy cheheheheheeks! Eheheheheheehe! Hehehehehhehe!"

"I would, but it's just too darn adorable to stop." He presses a kiss to his right cheek again, moving his fingers forward to wiggle into his belly. "And, I'm getting my revenge. I can't be soft. You deserve this."


	264. The Warden's Fledgling

The screams of the fledgling drew guards from all over the Prison, swords drawn, surrounding the prisoner holding the knife to the terrified fledgling's throat, his little chest heaving with sobs, quivering in terror, reaching out for any of the guards to get him away. He wanted Taddy, Taddy would make everything better, Taddy knew how to make things better, Taddy always protected him.

The prisoner pulls him back, the knife nicking into the skin, and he cries harder, screaming in terror, as a small droplet of blood drips down from the cut.

"Back off, get back, get back or I'll slit his throat!"

Sasha cries harder, flexing his fingers, reaching out for any of the guards to pick him up, but none of them move. They don't know what to do, this is a precarious situation they'd never encountered before, sure, it was normal for the Warden to find himself under attack, but not for his fledgling to be the target. The prisoners liked the fledgling, he'd sit outside their cells and color, keeping them company, his guard escort not far behind, and Chayyliel was not missing, he wasn't far behind his charge now, he was laying in a heap on the floor, a red stain growing over his chest.

"Taddy!" The fledgling screams out desperately, the guards aren't doing anything, but Taddy would, Taddy isn't scared of anything. _"Taddy!"_

Someone comes running around the corner, their boots stomping against the stone flooring, and the guards part in surprise. The Warden isn't inhibited by the knife held to his fledglings neck, these sorts of things required unexpected action, he was expected to pause and plead, just as the guards had been doing, but he does the exact opposite. He rushes forward, his fingers curled tightly, and rams his fist up under the prisoners chin. Something cracks loudly, and the prisoner falls backwards, swept off his feet from the momentum alone, crumbling in a heap on the floor.

Thaddeus sweeps his fledgling up off the floor, curling him in his arms, pressing him down against his shoulder. Sasha curls around him, sobbing uncontrollably, clutching at his tunic with his little tiny fingers. He turns to the guards surrounding them, at his back, and nods sharply to the prisoner unconscious behind him. "Take him to Solitary, get a healer to look over his jaw, it may be broken." He turns slightly, looking at the guard escort that would give his life for the safety of his fledgling. The stain has stopped growing, the concern was still prominent, but not as much as it had been upon first sight. "Take Chayyliel to the Infirmary to get him patched up, he is to stay there the night for precaution, if he tries to get up, and he will, I don't care what you have to do, tie him down for all I care, but he is to remain there for the night for observation."

The guards nod at his orders, two rush forward to collect the prisoner, and two others rush forward to collect the wounded guard, going off in two separate directions.

This was unacceptable, Thaddeus was not pleased, if he hadn't gotten back when he did who knows what would have happened to his fledgling. The guards should have intervened, he understands the unexpectedness of the situation, but they should have acted, he'd talk to Titus about it, if they need extra training, then they would get it.

This event would only come to pass once and that was it.

He coos softly in the fledgling's ear, whispering words of comfort, and rubs soothingly at his back. "Sshhh, sshhh, it's okay, you're okay, Taddy's here, Taddy's got you, sshhh, it's alright." Sasha sucks in a big breath before releasing another sob. "Sshhh, it's okay, everything's okay, hush little one, it's okay."

Unlocking the door to his office, he pushes the door open, cradling the small fledgling in one arm, he walks over to the small counter by the fireplace, reaching into the icebox for a jug of milk, he pours a bit into a small pot and sets it to warm next to the fire, and he readies the sippy cup, twisting the top off with his free hand, humming under his breath comfortingly, rocking him in his arm. The sobs slowly die down, fading into small hiccups, the fledgling rubbing at his eyes with his little fists, and he smiles down at the little guy, poking him on the nose lightly. "There you are, it's okay, Taddy's here, everything's okay." He pours the warm milk into the sippy cup and screws the lid back on, rubbing the spout over the fledglings lips until they open, and his hands come up to curl around the small cup, suckling away at the warm milk silently, sniffling every couple moments. "There you go, you drink your milk, Taddy will take care of everything." Sasha looks up at him with wide eyes, drinking away at his full sippy cup, and he smiles down at him again, brushing his curls back. "Let's get that boo-boo on your neck cleaned up."

He walks around the edge of his desk and sits in his chair, adjusting his grip on the fledgling, he sets him up to sit on the desktop in front of him. Sasha doesn't pause his consumption of his drink as he curls his little bare feet over his knees, as he leans over to reach for the middle left drawer. The Warden pulls out a small bottle, a cotton swab, and a bandage.

"Okay, baby frog," he uncaps the bottle and pours a few drops of the disinfectant onto the cotton swab. "This might sting just a little." Sasha watches him with those big golden eyes as he tilts his head back slightly and reaches up to dab the little cut with the cotton swab. The fledgling whines around his sippy cup at the slight sting and he coos at him again, setting the cotton swab aside for the bandage, and carefully covered the cut with the bandage, rubbing his finger over it to makes sure it's well and stuck on there. "You did so very good, I'm so proud of you, come here, baby frog, come back to Taddy." The fledgling slides off the edge of his desk and plops himself down on his lap, leaning back against his arm, he hums happily as he drinks away at his warm milk. "There you are, see, it's alright."

Sasha pulls his cup away slightly. "Taddy stay now?"

He nods, tugging the fledgling close, curling his hand around his little chubby belly. "Taddy's staying."

The fledgling smiles up at him, pulling the spout of his cup back in his mouth, and he settles back against the Warden's chest, sipping way happily.

Warm milk calms the nerves, and helps you to sleep, naptime was coming up after all.

"Me and you will do naptime together, today."

Sasha looks up at him, pausing in his sipping. "Cuddles, Taddy?"

"Cuddles, baby frog, lots and lots of cuddles."


	265. Walking In On The Action

Tzadkiel knew he should have listened to that little voice in the back of his head that told him to walk away from the office door, after hearing what he heard, and leave it be, but curse his curiosity, he knows it's killed the cat, but he can't help it. He's never heard that laugh before, it's a mystery to him, lighthearted but deep, a belly laugh, if he ever heard one.

He opens the door slightly and pokes his head in, his eyes widening at the sight that awaits him, he's never imagined ever witnessing this before.

Sabaoth laying over the side of the Warden's desk, his tunic pushed up, and the Warden's face buried in his belly, blowing berry after berry, making the quiet collected oldest guard shriek and squeal softly, but brightly, with laughter. He kicks out slightly, pushing at the older angel's head, but Thaddeus only chuckles and blows another berry.

It's only _his _luck that he pushes the door just a bit too much, and it creaks, both older angel's look over at him, one smiling mischievously and the other one still giggling breathlessly.

"Oh, just who I was hoping to see." Thaddeus pats the older guards belly. "Stay put." And jumps forward, catching the younger guard by the front of his tunic, he tugs him in, closing the door behind him, and drags him over to his desk. Tzadiel yelps as he's pushed over, laying over Sabaoth, his head pressing back against his shoulder, Sabaoth curls his arms around his middle, and he watches with wide eyes as the Warden pushes his tunic up, takes a deep breath, and buries his face in his belly.

"EEIEIIEIEIIAIAIAHIAHAHAHAHAHAHHA NOHOHHOOHOHO AHAHAHAHHAHAHHHAHAHAA! THAHAHAHAHDDYYY EIEIEIIEAIAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAEEIEIEAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA WHYHYHYHYHY! AAHAHAHHAHAHHEIEIIEIEIAIAIAAAHHAHAHAHAHAHA STOHOHHOHOP!"

Sabaoth chuckles in his ear. "Shouldn't have let your curiosity get the best of you." And digs into his ribs with his fingers, wiggling in deep, getting those little spaces between the bones, racing up and down.

He flails, kicking his legs and waving his arms, switching between pushing himself upwards and pushing at the Warden's head.

"EEIIEIEIAIAIAIAIAIAHAAHHAHAHHAHAHA AAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH STOHOHOHOHOP! THAHAHAHHAHAADDYYYYY AAHAHHAHAHAHAHEEIEIIEIIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHA SAHAHHAHAHHAABBBAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA STOHOHHOHOP! EIEIIEIAIAAIHAAHHAHAHAHHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHAHA EIEIIEAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA HHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!"

Thaddeus pulls away from his belly, chuckling softly at his squeals, and Sabaoth stops his assault on his ribs. "I didn't know you were this ticklish, Tzad, or I would have had at you much sooner." His gaze flits up over his head. "Saba, lift his arms please."

"No, Saba, _don't_ lift his arms, please!"

Sabaoth chuckles, his fingers running down his arms, curling around his wrists, lifting his arms up above his head. The Warden chuckles softly, rubbing his hands together, leaning up over him.

Tzadkiel braces himself for the attack when the Warden reaches up, clenching his eyes closed. He jumps when he hears someone shriek in his ear, and the chest he's laying on shakes with laughter, he opens his eyes, looking over as much as he can as Sabaoth presses his cheek against his, laughing heartily.

"Nohohohoho aahhahahahahhahahhaha! Thahahahhahahaaddy ahahahahhaha nohohohohohoho! Gehehehehheet hihihihihihim! Gehehehhehet hihihihim ahahahahhahhahaa!"

"I can get both of you." Tzadkiel shrieks when he digs his fingers in his right armpit, his laughter mixing with his older brothers, and Thaddeus chuckles softly. "See, I can get you both."

"Gehehehehehet hihihihihim mohohohohohore!"

"Why?" He switches arms. "You're both so quiet, two birds, one stone."

"Plehehehehhehehease!"

"Alright, fine." He jumps down to dig his fingers into the younger guards armpits. "Because, you said _'please'._"

"Aaahhahahahahhahaha nohohhohohohoho ehehehhehehhehehehe! Gehehehheet Sahahahahhabbbahahahahhaha! Gehehhehehhehet hihihihihihihim! Ahahhahahahhaha aheheeheheheaahhahahahahahha! Nohohohohot thehehehehehere! Nohohohoho!"

"Aww, Saba, did you hear that, he was willing to throw you under the bus."

"I heard."

Tzadkiel's eyes widen when he feels a bearded face bury itself in the side of his neck.

"EEEIEIIAIIAIAAIAHAHHAHA NOHHOHHOHOO EHEHEHAAHAAAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAH! GEHEHEHEHET OHOHOHHOUT! NOHOHOHO! EIEIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHA EHEHEHAHAHAAAAHAHHAHAHAHHAHA! SAHAHHAHAHHAABBBBAAAHAHAHAHHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHE BEHEHEHHEHEHAEAHHAHAHHAHAAEHEHHEHEARD!"

Thaddeus hums softly, calling over the young guards squealing laughter. "Saba, I've just had a great idea, you keep at his neck, and I'll get his belly."


	266. Going Straight To The Top

He comes to stand at the doors to the Throne Room, looking up at the massive wooden structures silently, their awe inspiring to look to, it always takes his breath away. The guards stationed there nod at him when he looks down to them, turning, they each take hold of a handle, and push the massive doors open. He walks between them, his arms crossed behind his back, he felt bad for doing this, but the Archangel was not thinking clearly, and he refused to allow the events that happened to Gadreel repeat themselves with another life.

The one he seeks smiles down at him, gesturing him forward, and he follows the gesture, coming to stand at His feet. He bows his head in greeting and respect, and a warm chuckle echoes around the massive room, a large finger under his chin lifts his head up once more. "There is no need for that My son, tell me Nisroc, what brings you to see Me."

"Father, I'm sorry to disturb you."

He smiles down at him. "There is no need for apologies, you are My son, you are always welcome here." He swipes away the orb He was fiddling with, it could be a new soul or a new fledgling, it would exciting to see what it turned into. "What can I do to help you?"

"Father," Nisroc looks down to his hands for a moment. "You are the only one who can lift a sentence imposed by Michael?"

He hums deeply, nodding His head. "I am."

"Michael is….." He pauses again. "Michael is misguided. Blinded even. Father, I will not allow what happened to Gadreel happen to another, and you are the only one who can help."

"I see," He nods again, leaning forward in His Throne, this is indeed interesting. "What happened to young Gadreel is unfortunate, had I not been so blinding in My grief, I would never have allowed his imprisonment to last as long as it had." He gestures for the young angel to sit, and Nisroc steps forward, lowering himself, sitting on his knees. "Tell Me what is that is going on."

"Life sentences are rare."

He nods slightly. "They are, yes."

"Life sentences given to a youngling even more so."

"Another youngling has been given a life sentence?" That brings a frown to His features, while it saddened Him when any of His children were given life sentences, it was doubly so when it was a youngling. "Tell me, who is it?"

"Zophiel, Father, he is not guilty of the crimes he was accused of, not truly."

"Ah, yes," Father nods lightly. "Young Zophiel," He shakes His head, smiling fondly. "Quite a character. I've seen him with you, and his beloved puppy guard, two peas in a pod those two, very wise of Thaddeus to bring them together. You say he is not guilty of the crimes that have been committed," He rubs at His beard lightly. "Treason, he gave vital information over to the other side, correct?" Nisroc nods silently. "He actions have lost Me a number of My children."

"Father, his reasoning for such a thing is sound, if he'd only be allowed to explain himself." The Captain looks down to his hands. "Michael will not listen to him tell his story, just as he hadn't with Gadreel, he is so young Father," he looks back up at Him. "He is so young, and he is falling apart, he hides it well, but I can see it, I'm sure Thadd can see it. He is strong, yes, but I fear any longer under lock and key, he may reach his breaking point."

"His story has never been heard?"

The Power shakes his head. "No, Michael will not spare him the time, he's already decided him to be guilty, he will not _listen_. He is willing to throw away another young life because of his pride." Nisroc clenches his hands into fists. "And, I will not allow that to happen again."

"Indeed, I am inclined to agree, it is wrong not to hear one's story, there is a reason for every action, one should not judge until they know the reasoning." He stands from His Throne, Nisroc stands from his seated position, and He steps forward, away from the Throne, and shimmers as He shrinks with every step.

He still stands at least two heads taller then him, but He's no giant anymore, He's nearly normal height for them. His long dark brown hair braided up on His head, His beard long and finely trimmed, His rainbow-colored eyes sparkle with fondness and unending love, deep purple robes sway around His ankles. "Lead Me, Nisroc, let's hear this story."

Nisroc smiles up at Him. "Thank you, Father, for being willing to listen."

"I am always willing to listen."

…

The prisoners gather at the bars of their cells to watch Him make His way down the aisle, He smiles at them as they pass, waving to them with His fingers, how He loves His children. Nisroc leads Him down to the Warden's office, and they come to a stop before it, it's closed, Thaddeus has requested privacy with it being closed. The Power sighs softly, reaching up to knock on the door with his knuckles, and they wait for the voice within to grant them entrance.

Thaddeus's voice is soft when it calls from within, and Nisroc nods, curling his fingers around the door handle, he twists, and pushes the door open. The Warden looks up at their entrance, his eyes widening, climbing to his feet quickly. "Father."

He smiles fondly. "Thaddeus, I am sorry for what had happened to you, it brings Me joy to have you back to yourself."

The Warden flushes a deep red. "Thank you, Father."

He smiles again, turning His attention to the boy sitting in the dog bed with the puppy, Thaddeus follows His gaze and clears his throat, drawing the boy's attention up from the book he was reading to the puppy, looking up at the Warden at the call for his attention. "Zophiel, look who's here."

The boy's head turns around when he nods in a certain direction, and his eyes widen when He smiles at him, stumbling to his feet. "Dad!" The puppy jumps up with him, barking excitedly, and He squats, holding His hand out to the small hound. It bounces forward, licking excitedly at His fingers, and He chuckles, petting His hand down the back of it's head fondly. "Hello, Qaspiel."

"Father, not that you are not welcome here, but," Thaddeus sits when He stands, gesturing for him to sit, and He takes a seat on the other side of the desk, Nisroc at his side. "What brings you out of the Throne Room?"

Zophiel scurries around the desk, climbing into the Warden's lap, leaning back against him, feeling comforted by the arm that automatically curls around his waist.

He crosses His left foot over His right knee and leans back, curling His hands together in His lap, nodding to the Warden's question. "I've been told there is a story that I should hear."

"A story?"

Nisroc nods for Him, his eyes meeting those of the youngling watching them, Zophiel shrinks slightly, he knows why he's being looked at. "Michael is wrong. He will not lift the sentence. So I went above his head."

Zophiel curls his fingers around the Warden's fingers, they intertwine together, and he looks over to his Father, to meet His rainbow eyes. "You want to hear _my _story?"

He nods. "I do, if you would be willing to tell it."

"But, no one's ever asked before."

"And, that is an error in judgement, one must always hear the story." He smiles at him gently. "I would like to hear your story."

The youngling looks down, squeezing his guardian's fingers, Thaddy squeezes his back comfortingly. "Well…..I don't know….No one's ever asked me before."

"Nieto," Nisroc leans forward. "Just tell Him what you told me."

Zophiel looks over at him and nods, Thaddeus presses a kiss to the side of his head, and he looks over at him too. "You can do this, Zophi."

"Well…" He sighs, rubbing at his cheek with his free hand. "I guess…My old Guardian…..The one before Thaddy….He was a traitor…They made me do it. I didn't have a choice." He nods, not interrupting, this was a story He wanted to hear. "They said that no matter what choice I made, that I would be blamed just as much as they would, by mere affiliation , that I would be a traitor too. They had said Michael would be more forgiving, because of my age, so I did it." He pauses, taking a deep breath, tracing his finger over the back of Thaddeus's hand. "I guess he wasn't."

"What else, little one, tell Me."

"I did it…I did it because I didn't want them to give over something that was _super _important, and then I waited. I dropped a feather in his office where I knew he would see it, I knew he'd know it was mine and come find me, and I waited for him, I thought he'd understand if I told him." He shakes his head lightly, a small frown gracing his features. "But he didn't let me explain. He just said I was a traitor. And ordered the guards to bring me here."

Thaddeus rubs his arm with his free hand. "You're doing great."

Zophiel nods slightly, comforted by the praise, Qaspiel barks softly, licking his toes comfortingly. "Well….Did you know that Michael has a list of all the guardians and miracle workers on Earth, their charges and their locations?" He nods, His interest peaked. "I don't know what they had chosen to give as their proof of allegiance. But I know it was a lot more important then what I choose to give."

"So," He leans forward slightly. "You choose to hand over information, so your guardian didn't give away anything vital?"

"_That's _what they wanted to give over?"

The youngling nods to both his Father and Guardian. "I said I'd give them the information so that they could make a clean get away. They were long gone by the time I handed over what I did. I knew it would be okay, because the other list was still safe in Michael's vault, and that they wouldn't dare try to sneak back in to get it, they were a coward."

"So, your betrayal, wasn't necessarily a betrayal at all, was it?" Father looks at him in wonder, and he looks down shyly, shrugging his shoulders. "It is indeed an interesting story," He looks over to the Power beside Him. "I must agree with you, Nisroc."

Nisroc nods at Him. "See, Father, he is a _hero_. Yes, we lost some lives, but he's _saved _so many more."

"He has indeed." He nods His head. "The lives that were lost will always be remembered, and the lives that were saved will always be cherished, you did a wonderful thing, Zophiel."

His cheeks reddened slightly, and he ducks back into the Warden's shoulder. "I guess."

"Furthermore, it is wrong to punish you for something such as this, while it was wrong, it was also right, given the situation." He rubs at His beard lightly. "I pardon you of your sentence, Zophiel." The youngling looks up at Him with wide eyes and He smiles at him. "I cannot take back the time that you've already lost, but I can grant you time to come, you are free to come and go as you please." He twirls His hand around in a semi-circle. "If Michael decides to confront you, you just give him this, and he can come to Me with his concerns." He leans forward, setting a scroll on the edge of the Warden's desk.

"I'm….I'm _free_?"

He nods, smiling softly, winking at the boy. "You're free, My boy."

Zophiel stares at him, tears gathering in his wide eyes, and he jumps forward. "Thank you!" He jumps over the Warden's desk and crashes into Him, He grunts under the impact, but chuckles, curling His arms around the young angel. "Thank you, Dad!"

"You are most welcome, My little one." He strokes His fingers through his curls, kissing him on the top of the head, hugging him close to His chest. "You are young still, you deserve to enjoy your youth to the fullest, it is the least I can do."


	267. A Little Pudge Is Okay

"Oh, look, blubber boy's arrived!"

He curls in on himself, wrapping his arms around his belly, and ducks his head. "Don't call me that."

"Should we call you _'cake boy'_?"

"How about _'dough boy'?"_

"We could call him _'baby whale'_!"

"Cake boy doesn't need armor," the one nearest him smirks at him. "He's got enough padding to protect himself."

He sniffles, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, and tries to ignore them, but he curls his arms tighter around himself anyway.

"Aww, look, blubber boy is going to cry."

"I wonder if his tears are as _fat _as he is."

"What's going on here?" They all jump around at the sound of his voice, the Power stands there, arms on his hips lightly, looking between the five of them. "What was it you just said, Arlo?"

He stands quickly. "N—Nothing. Just a bit of fun," he looks over his shoulder and nods to his friends, glaring at dough boy, daring him to say anything else. "Right, boys?"

"Just a bit of fun, huh?" His turns his attention to the one behind them all. "Peliel, I need you to come with me." His frown deepens when the boy sighs softly, nodding, and turns around, his arms curled tightly around his belly, and steps out from behind the five boys. He curls the fingers of his right hand around the back of his neck as he turns, guiding him from the room, and turns over his shoulder as they step out of the doorway. "And, Arlo, the next time I hear you body shaming someone, you're done, I have no need of such behavior, you can find yourself a different flock."

Peliel sniffles as they walk down the hall, turning at the far end, and he's guided up the stairs. Whatever Nisroc is cooking smells so good, and he curls his arms around his belly even more when it rumbles, he hasn't eaten anything since yesterday morning. Titus guides him down the hall, turning them into his room, and closes the door behind him softly.

He turns him around by the shoulders. "Come here, little Pelican." He uncurls his arms from around his belly and steps into the Power's arms, his tears soaking into the front of his tunic, as he sobs softly into his chest. Titus curls around him, curling the fingers of his right hand around the back of his head, holding him close as he breaks down from what he's sure is countless days of body shaming and bullying. "Oh, little Pelican, why didn't you come to me?"

"I—I….I thought I c—could take it!"

He strokes his fingers down the back of his head. "But you don't have to, bullying is not tolerated, Peli, and you know that, I would have handled it."

"I'm…I'm sorry, Tus!"

"No, little Pelican, I'm sorry, I knew something was wrong but never said anything. I've done you quite the disservice."

Peliel's sobs calm down, he hiccups softly against the Power's chest, clutching at his tunic tightly. "Tus….Tus, am I fat?"

"No," he answers with not hesitation. "You are not _fat_. You're padded, a bit rounded, but you're not _fat_."

"But I have a big belly, bigger then the others, I'm big."

"Puri has a bigger belly then the rest of us, he looks just like you, do you think he's fat?"

The youngling shakes his head. "No, Puri is big and strong, he's not fat, not at all."

"Well, if he's not, and you two have the same body shape, then you can't be fat either, right?"

"I guess."

He pulls him back slightly, caressing his cheeks, wiping away the evidence of the tear tracks. "You're not fat, you're _well built_, you're _beautiful _just the way you are." He lifts the youngling off his feet. "You eat healthy, sure you have the occasional sweet, but so does everyone, you're just as fit as the others are." He presses their foreheads together. "And, I happen to _love _your belly _very _much."

Peliel smiles softly, giggling softly when the Power pecks him on the nose, brushing their noses together. "It's my favorite little belly in the whole wide world." He smiles at him as he giggles harder. "Do you want me to show you just how much I love your adorable little belly?" He only giggles harder, smiling at the Power, the elder's smile is contagious, and he nods softly. "Alright, let me show you how much I adore this little belly."

He carries him across his room, towards his big bed, and leans over, crawling up the bottom on his knees, and gently lays the youngling down. Peliel giggles up at him, and he smiles, pushing his right hand up under his tunic gently, wiggling a finger into his belly button softly, the boy shrieks lightly, squirming from side to side. "Now, let's take a good look at this cute little belly, shall we?"

Titus pushes his tunic up, revealing his slightly rounded belly, and lays down over him. "There it is, my beloved little belly, in all its squashy glory."

"Tuhuhuhus!"

"What?" He pokes his fingers all over his belly, and the boy giggles harder, squirming around under him, his belly shaking lightly as he giggles deeply. "I'm just saying how adorable this belly is." He leans over his belly. "Let me give this belly a little kiss." He puckers his lips playfully and presses an exaggerated kiss over the pudgy little belly, right over his belly button, it catches him off guard, when the Power takes a deep breath, buries his face in deeper, and blows a massive raspberry over his belly button.

Peliel throws his head back and squeals. "EEIIEAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHHHAHHA AHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA TUHUHUHUHUS!"

"This belly is the perfect belly for berries."

"Tuhuhuhus! Nohohohoho!"

"You asked me to show you how much I loved this belly."

"EIEIEIAIAAIAAIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHHOHO! EIEIEIAIAIAIAIHAAHAHAAHHAHAHA AHAHHAHAHHAHEIEIIIEIEIAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHA NOHOHOHOHOT THHOHOHOHOHOSE! EIEIIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHA AHAHHAHAHAHA TUHHUHUHUHUHUS!"

"This belly is my favorite because this belly is _extra _ticklish." He pulls away, wiggling his fingers into the youngling's lower belly, if only to keep his laughter going. "I only wish you'd love this belly as much as I do." He leans in to press a kiss to his belly button again and the younger angel shrieks with laughter. "You're perfect just the way you are, and if anyone says otherwise, you just let me deal with them."

"Tuhuhuhuhuhus!"

"Do you feel better?"

He nods feverishly, giggling madly. "Behehhehehheetter! Better!"

"Good, if you need my help again, just let me know." He still pokes him in the belly. "I'll deal with Arlo and his friends, what they're doing is unacceptable." Peliel giggles softly, squirming slightly. "And, I'll tell you what you're going to do next, you're going to have a nice big supper with us, and for desert, you're going to have a delicious piece of chocolate cake, and then we'll come back here and spend the rest of the night together."

He smiles widely, he really loves his guardian, Titus always knows how to make him feel better. "Cahahan I hahave milk with myhyhy cake?"

"You most certainly can, little Pelican." He finally pulls away from his belly for good, letting the youngling pull his tunic back down, and crawls off of him, pulling him up to his feet when he climbs to his. "You most certainly can."

Peliel smiles, jumping forward, hugging the Power tightly. "You're the best, Tus!"

Titus chuckles, rubbing his hand down the back of the boy's head. "So are you, Peli." He curls his arm around his shoulders and turns them towards the door. "Let's go have some supper."


	268. Confronting Bullies

He stands outside his captain's office on baited breath, he had not been having a good day, he'd had a run in with Arlo, purposefully missed breakfast and lunch, he wished he could be like Puriel, who was a bit on the rounder side but took it with pride, who didn't let how he looked determine how he acted, who never missed a meal and always got to have his favorite treats.

He sighs deeply, reaching up to knock on the door with his knuckles, waiting patiently for the occupant within to call out for him to enter, and reaches down to twist the door handle open when they finally do.

Titus leans forward in his seat, resting his arms over the top of his desk, nodding for him to enter.

Closing the door behind him, he walks into the office, taking one of the seats when he gestures for him to do so.

"Thank you for coming Peliel." The young guard nods silently. "I just had a quick inquiry." He nods again, looking down at the movement, the Power holds something out over his desk, setting it down for him to see, and he cringes, the molten blob of metal that had once been two toy cars. "You want to explain this to me?"

Peliel shakes his head, Saba had already given him an earful, he didn't want to get anymore from Tus, that may very well be the tipping point of his already fragile emotional state.

"You have nothing to say?" He shakes his head again. "This kind of behavior is not tolerated, Peliel, do you remember how it made you feel when Arlo used to make fun of your weight?"

"_Used _to?" He huffs, looking down at his lap, mumbling to himself. "He still _does_."

"_What?"_

Peliel cringes, he'd said that out loud, and he silently curses himself. "Nothing."

"He _still _bullies you." He hears the Power's chair squeak as he scoots back. "Even after my warnings?"

"Tus, it's not that big of a deal, I've been dealing with it since training, and—"

"Since _training_?" Titus rises to his feet. "When was the last time you ate?"

"I don't know what—"

"_Peliel_."

He sighs deeply, looking down to his lap. "Last night."

"Right, alright," he steps out from behind his desk, gesturing for him to follow, and he jumps up, coming to stand at the Power's shoulder. "I've given them their warnings."

"Tus, what are—"

"Come on, Peliel." He nods, following after his captain, down the hall to the right, to the guards barracks. He stops before the door to the fourth dormitory, and reaches out, pushing the door open. All movement stops at his entrance, and he seeks one out, one in particular, the ringleader. "Arlo, a moment?"

The young guard nods, standing from his bunk, he smirks at the others as he passes them by, stepping out in the hall at his captain's gesture. He takes in the sight of the other guard, and sneer lightly when he's sure his captain can't see him, Peliel shrinks in on himself slightly, curling his around his belly. "Did you tell on me again, Blob?"

He shakes his head, backing up a step, averting his eyes, curling his arms around himself tighter.

"Did you just call him _'blob'_?" Titus tugs him around roughly, and he gulps softly, taking in the anger thundering in his eyes. "Get out."

Arlo's eyes widen. "What?"

"Get _out_. I told you when you were younger that I don't tolerate bullying, of any kind, I have no place for you. You're dismissed. Pack your things and get out of my barrack."

"B—But," he follows him around when the Power steps around him. "You can't do that!"

Titus freezes, glaring at him from over his shoulder. "I can do _whatever _I want to anyone under _my _command. If you're not out by morning then I'll have you escorted out."

"Where am I supposed to go!"

He turns back around, guiding Peliel around with him. "That's not my problem."

Peliel follows at his side as he guides him down the hall, turning them up the stairs at the end, and they walk up silently. Puriel and Abraxos are in the kitchen cooking together, chatting between each other, and Titus stops them before the walk down the hall. "Guys, what's for dinner?"

"Chicken stir fry." Abraxos looks up from the vegetables he was cutting. "Hi, Peli."

Puriel looks over from where he's cooking the chicken, smiling at them, raising an eyebrow at the little guard at his brother's side. "Peli, why are you hiding that adorable little belly from us?"

Titus pulls him closer, rubbing at his arm lightly. "Make sure to make a plate for Peli, okay guys?"

"Got it."

"Understood."

He nods, guiding the young guard down the hall with a hand on the small of his back, Peliel follows beside him silently, hunched forward, hugging his belly tightly, Arlo always made him feel bad. Titus turns them into his room, guiding him forward with a gentle nudge, Peliel sighs softly, stepping forward, lowering his head when he hears the Power close the door behind him.

"Peli," he shakes his head. "Peli, look at me, please?" He shakes his head again and his old guardian lifts his head up with a finger under his chin. "Peli, tell me if I'm wrong, you hurt Sora's feelings before he could hurt yours, didn't you?"

Peliel shakes his head.

"Little Pelican."

His shake turns into a nod.

"Oh, little Pelican, I'm so sorry." He pulls him forward, into his arms, and hugs him close. "You weren't trying to be mean; you were trying to protect yourself, hurt him before he had the chance to hurt you."

"I'm sorry, Tus." He mumbles into his chest, holding on tightly, pressing in close enough that he can hear his heartbeat. "I didn't mean to hurt his feelings."

"I understand, Peli, I do, it doesn't excuse what you did, but it makes it understandable." He pets his hand down the back of his head. "Sora would much rather be your friend then be your enemy, he doesn't have a bullying bone in his body, if you only give him a chance." Peliel nods against his chest. "And, I expect you to get him new cars, to replace the ones you destroyed."

"I will, Tus, I promise."

He nods, pressing his lips to the young guards forehead. "Good boy."

"Tus, you still don't think I'm fat, right?"

Titus curls his fingers around the side of his head, pressing him close. "No, I don't think you're fat." He turns his head around, leaning over to kiss him on the nose. "I think you're _adorable_." He smiles down at him. "My cute little Pelican." He brushes his fingers over his cheek. "You should talk to Puri, he knows how you feel, he went through the same thing when he was younger."

Peliel tilts his head slightly. "He did?"

"Mhmm." He nods. "He did. He knows how you feel. He'd understand. He'd know how to help. Puri was bullied for his weight too, he wouldn't eat for as long as he could, he made himself sick, that's why I get so upset when you miss meals, I don't want you to get sick." The Power smiles down at him. "It's okay to like sweets, as long as you eat them in moderation, and you even it out with healthy foods, like fruits and vegetables. You're in shape, you're most certainly more fit them some of your brethren, even with your rounded girth, you don't fall behind in training. If you have a piece of cake or a cookie or another sweet every now and then, that's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I like sweets."

"I know you do," he pokes him on the nose lightly, stroking his cheek again. "Puri likes sweets too. You know what our guardian said to him when he found himself ashamed of how he looked?" Peliel shakes his head, and he rubs a finger down his nose. "That words are empty, they're nothing but air, they can hurt, but the trick is to let them wash over you, like water down a stream. There is always going to be someone who looks to put you down, but you're stronger then you know, it's not about what you are out here." He pokes a finger to his chest. "It's about what's _in_ here. Being a bit bigger then everyone else doesn't mean you're _fat_, it means you've got a bit more _love _to give, enough to share with _everyone _ten times over."

"R—Really?"

He nods firmly. "Really. I've seen how nice you are, you love Saba with all your heart, and he loves you just as much in return. I'm sure you'd be surprised just how much Sora would love you back if you showed him just a bit of your own heart. You love sweets, Sora loves toys, Saba loves his baby brothers, and I love you all."

"Sora tried to be my friend and I just pushed him away." Peliel averts his eyes. "He probably hates me now. Saba hates me now too."

"Saba _doesn't_ hate you; he still loves you just as much as he always has, he was upset with you, but he was also _concerned_." He taps him on the nose to get his attention back. "He knows who you really are, how big your heart is, that's why he trusted you to watch over Sora while he was away. When he found out how you treated him, yes, he was angry, but he was more concerned, then anything, because he knows that's not like you." Titus smiles down at him gently. "He was the one who told me what happened, because of his concern, not his anger. He didn't do it with the possibility to get you into trouble, he was worried, and wanted to help you." He shakes his head lightly. "And, Sora doesn't have a hateful bone in his body, not for those he deems to be his friends, and he most certainly still wants to be your friend. Saba has told him all about you. He wants to be your friend."

"How do you know?"

The Power winks down at him. "He told me so, when he gave me his melted cars, he asked if you were mad at him because he wanted to be your friend."

Peliel smiles slightly, that would be nice, to have another friend. "Tus, do you think we could make him cookies?" He looks back up at the Power. "So I can show him how sorry I am?"

"Oh, if you made him cookies, he'd forgive you for any wrongdoing, he'd be your best friend for life." He smiles, nodding to the young guard. "We can make him cookies after supper." He leans over to press another kiss to his forehead. "Puri made apple pie last night, he made two, because he knew we'd fly through the first one because it's so good, there's more then enough of the second one left, after supper we'll have some pie, in the name of making new friends."

"I like apple pie." He licks his lips at the thought of it. _Especially _Puri's apple pie. "It's so yummy."

"_Especially _Puri's apple pie. You two should bake together, he'd show you all his secrets, he's the best baker, makes the most delicious sweets." Titus turns them towards the door, their private talk completed, and reaches out for the door handle. "You can make you and the others tasty treats."

"I like that idea!" Just the thought of making his own sweets brings a smile to his face, stepping out into the hall, they make their way down the hall. "Do you think Puri would say _'yes'?"_

"Do you think Puri would say _'yes' _about what?" The voice of the medic has them turning forward, he smiles at them in greeting, reaching out to poke him in the belly when they're close enough. "There's that adorable little belly."

"Puri, would you teach me how to bake?"

"Little Pelican, I would _love_ to teach you how to bake." He pulls him forward, smooshing him against his side, walking off with him as Abraxos makes up the table, and Titus turns the corner to help carry their food to the table. "I'll teach you how to make _everything_, cakes, cookies, pies, all kinds of sweets. The best part of being the baker is that you get the first bite of everything you make, and, you get to eat up the left-over batter."

Peliel smiles up at the medic, taking his seat when Puriel guides him around, seating him in front of a plate, next to Nisroc. "That sounds like a lot of fun!"

"Oh, it's great, as a bonus, you can make anyone do anything you want if you make them a tasty sweet." He ruffles his curls softly. "I'll teach you all my tricks."


	269. Becoming The Bully

"I told you to leave it be!"

He grunts softly as he's pulled forward, down the hall, and stumbles over his own feet as they turn the corner roughly. "No, you didn't."

"It was left unsaid, I figured you'd get the unspoken memo." They glare over their shoulder at him. "Evidently, I was wrong."

He eyes them carefully. "Evidently, so."

"You don't even regret it, do you?"

"I would be lying if I said I was."

They nod, dragging him further down the hall. "Maybe not yet, but you will, I promise you that."

"I guess."

He's dragged down that hall, to another door, and they barge in, without knocking or announcing their arrival for entrance. The occupant looks up from the papers they were reading with wide eyes. "Tus, what's-"

"You handle him!" He's shoved forward and he stumbles over his feet. "Nisroc, he's yours before he's mine. You deal with him!"

The Captain stands from his desk chair. "Deal with him?" He steps around the side of his desk, catching the guard before he could tumble over, keeping him on his feet with a hand curled around his arm. "What did Saba do?"

"What did he _do_?" Titus glares heatedly at the guard standing at his oldest brother's side. "He attacked someone!"

"_Saba _attacked someone?" Nisroc looks between them both carefully. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, yes I'm sure!"

"Alright, alright," he waves his hands placatingly. "I'll deal with him. You go calm down. Go find Sora, he always makes you happy, go play with Sora."

"Don't tell me what to do!"

He points a finger at him warningly. "Watch it, baby brother, or I'll deal with you too." Nisroc points to the door. "Go, go find your boy, he always makes you happy."

Titus grumbles to himself, nodding slightly, and turns back towards the door. He'd go find Sora, his brother was right, Sora always made him feel better. They'd play a game with some toys, or do a puzzle, maybe read some stories, perhaps partake in some tickles. They played with tickles sometimes, where he let the little angel get him back too, it made it even more fun, a bit of a tickle fight, it made his little angel happy, and anything that made his little angel happy made him happy too. Sora always lifted his spirits, no matter what, his little angel was just that cute and he was just that fond.

He turns to look at the guard in his grasp when his brother makes his leave, closing the door behind him, Tus would be well looked after when he found his boy, Sora would thoroughly distract him from his frustration. Saba looks up at him, and the cool defiance that was in his eyes when he'd been in Titus's hands had disappeared now that he was in the Captain's, Nisroc raises an eyebrow and pulls him forward. "What's this about you attacking someone?"

"It was in self-defense."

"You were attacked first?"

"Self-defense for another."

He levels the young guard with a hard stare and Sabaoth fidgets slightly. "You're being cryptic, speak clearly."

"Somebody was bullying Peli and I dealt with it."

"Ah," Nisroc nods. "So you found out about Arlo?"

Sabaoth stares at him in surprise. "So you _knew _he was bullying Peli?"

Nisroc guides him to sit in one of the chairs across his desk, and he steps back around, sitting back in his desk chair, tapping his fingers lightly over the desk top. "I just found out, yes, Titus dismissed him from his ranks and he came to me in an attempt to fight him on it." He nods his head lightly. "As you know, dismissing anyone in Michael's flock is ultimately up to me, well, it's ultimately up to _him, _but generally speaking he leaves it up to me, anyway, yes, I know about what happened between them."

"He made him feel _ashamed_ of how he looks!" Sabaoth shoots back, he's clearly still affected by this, it's not surprising, once you become his friend, you become one of his family, a baby sibling, and Sabaoth was extremely protective of those he considered to be a baby sibling. "He doesn't know how _beautiful _he is because of that _monster_. He thinks he's _fat _and _ugly_. That—That _beast _destroyed a beautiful person because of his own insecurities!" Nisroc just sits there and listens to him vent, nodding along to every statement, listening to every word, not just nodding absently until he was finished with his rant. "Peli was better then him in _every _way. In training, in personality, in his position, he was _much _better then him, but he's always been insecure about how he looks because no one else looks the same way, and because that—that _asshole _was jealous, he picked at those insecurities as much as he could." He smacks his hands down over the chairs armrests. "He _hides _himself; he curls his arms around his belly to _hide _it, he thinks people will _hate_ him if they see it. He's mean to others because he doesn't want to be hurt again, he's reached the end of his rope, he hurts others before he thinks they'll have the opportunity to hurt him. He thinks it's normal! He thinks it's normal for him to be _body shamed_!" Sabaoth rubs angrily at his chin, Nisroc remains silent, tapping his fingers over the top of his desk still, he knows the oldest Prison guard isn't done yet. "And he's _adorable_. He's utterly _adorable _and he doesn't even know it. You flutter a few fingers over that belly, and he _squeals _in laughter, if that's _not _adorable I don't know what is. And he doesn't even _know _it. He's ashamed of his _adorable _belly. He _hides _his belly from me because he thinks I'll stop being his friend if I see it. I have to make him say that he's beautiful and he's perfect because he doesn't think he is and that—that bully _brainwashed _him into thinking the opposite."

Nisroc hums at last, as he sees the rant coming to an end, and Sabaoth nods firmly. "So, I confronted him. I stood up for Peli because he can't do it for himself. I wanted him to feel just as bad as he made Peliel feel. I am _not _sorry. I _would_ do it again."

The Captain nods lightly. "I understand your anger, Saba, I do. Admittedly, my first instinct was to do much of the same, I watched Peliel grow up from a mere babe, Tus and I raised you two together, I was almost tempted to enact a sort of vigilante justice." He nods again, looking up to meet his heated gaze, and shakes his head too. "But I have a certain position to uphold, I can't go around beating up people, even if they've harmed someone I love, there are other ways to deal with them." He leans forward, this is his time now, and Sabaoth's turn to listen to him. "Just as you have a certain position to uphold, as one of the Elders in the guards, you have a certain image you have to uphold for the others, it's a burden, I know, but its one that you must carry. I understand why you went after Arlo, I do, but would you be in this same mindset if it were someone else who went after him, someone under _your_ care, let's say it was Sora who went after him, Sora has an unfortunate volatile temper, or what if it was Tzadkiel, or Osmadiel, would you be this obstinate about it?"

Sabaoth frowns lightly, looking down to his lap for a moment, even in his angered mind frame, he acknowledged his old guardian's point being made. If it had been Sora, or Tzad, or even Os, he would be just as upset as Tus had been, he'd guided them better then that, just as Tus and Nis had taught him better then to seek revenge.

Revenge was just as bad as the cause of the need for revenge. He'd only bullied a bully, he was no better, even if he thought it was justified. "No, I would not be." Now that he's coming down from his anger, he feels ashamed of himself, even after what he'd done to his baby brother, he shouldn't have harmed him, he was above such petty things, it made him just as bad as the other aggressor. It made him a bully too and he didn't want to be known as a bully. "I'd be upset too."

"Mhm," the Captain nods his head. "How do you feel now, now that you've gotten all of that off your chest, how do you feel about yourself, do you feel tough, do you feel right?"

He shakes his head slightly. "No, no I don't. I feel bad, I feel dirty, like I'm a bully too. I feel ashamed of myself. I'm sorry, Nis, I did wrong and I shouldn't have acted on my anger."

"No, you shouldn't have, I raised you better than this, Sabaoth. This action doesn't just reflect on your character, it reflects on how I raised you, do you think I raised you so wrong as to permit this petty act of revenge?"

He shakes his head again. "No, sir, you raised me better then that. I know better. You raised me to know better."

Nisroc nods lightly. "I expect you to apologize, to both Arlo and Titus, your actions were unacceptable and they deserve recompense. I understand why you went after Arlo, I do, but that does not make you doing so okay, not in the slightest."

The guard nods once more. "I will."

"Now, to the consequence of your actions, this isn't going to pass unpunished, I hope you know that."

He nods once again. "I know."

Nisroc nods lightly, looking down to his hand resting on the top of his desktop, and then back up to the guard. "What do you think you deserve, the belt, or the ruler?"

Sabaoth swallows heavily, he'd rather not have either of them, but he knew he deserved it. He needed this. He needed this correction, if only to relieve his guilt, he deserved this punishment, he deserved to feel how he made Arlo feel. It was only fair, and it was the right thing to do. "I think I deserve both."

"Why both?"

"Because…. Because I hurt him. I deserve to feel the same pain I made him feel. I deserve both."

Nisroc nods again and mixed with the disappointment and anger burning in his eyes was pride, he was proud that he knew he'd done something wrong and that he deserved to be punished for it. He'd raised him well, despite any slip ups he may have, it was nothing on his parenting skills, everyone was prone to their slip ups. "Which do you want first?"

He wanted to get the worst of the two done first. "The belt."

"Alright," he gestures to the closet to the left side of them. "Get the belt."

Sabaoth nods, rising to his feet, he steps around his chair and crosses over to the closet. He hears the older angel rise from his own chair, the chair squeaks as he does, and as he steps around the side of his desk. He reaches into the closet silently, for the leather belt hanging just on the of the door frame, curls it in his fingers, and turns back to make his return to the elder's side. He passes it over when Nisroc holds out his hand for it, and shuffles as he stares down at him harshly, though he understands, that doesn't mean he's not angry.

He pulls the belt away, holding it in his hand, and looks down at him. "How long did this confrontation last?"

"Ten minutes."

Nisroc nods. "Then it will be ten swats." He turns slightly and gestures to the edge of the desk. "Bare yourself and over the edge."

The younger angel nods, shimmying his trousers down slightly, and leans over the edge of the Power's desk. Ten may sound lenient, a light punishment for the crime that was committed, but it was right, not too much, not too little. Nisroc could get his lesson across in as many as five strokes. He didn't hold back, he was strong, and his strokes were strong, they were harsh, he didn't need more strokes then were necessary. He'd ask how many they think they deserved or how long the infraction lasted, it didn't matter how many strokes he gave, his lesson was always learned.

He waits on baited breath, tensing when the belt presses over his bottom and then pulls back, he knows it's coming and he tries to prepare himself, but it does nothing to stop him from yelping loudly and jumping slightly when the first strike comes down. It doesn't take long, the whooping, it lasts maybe a minute, possibly two, but it's enough to get the point across and enough to leave a trail of tears running down his cheeks.

"Alright, stand back up, pull up your trousers, and sit back down."

He hears Nisroc step away, most probably to put the belt back in the closet, and he sniffs softly, reaching down to pull his trousers back up. He flinches when he sits back on the hard wooden chair, the Power reclaims his own chair across from him, over the other side of the desk. He reaches down for the second right drawer, pulls him open, reaches inside, and pushes it closed again, reaching back up to rest his hands on the desk in front of him. "How many times did you punch him?"

Sabaoth looks down to his lap. "Four times."

"Then, it's four strikes." He nods to his desk. "Hands out."

Sabaoth nods, holding his hands out, fingers straightened, over the desk, they shakes slightly. There's no forewarning to this one, he doesn't have the opportunity for any semblance of preparation, the Captain smacks the ruler down harshly over the fingers of his right hand, and then the fingers of his left hand, and he bites back a soft shriek. His fingers are red when he pulls back, leaning back over to put the ruler away, his hands shake just a bit more, and his hands are taken up before he can pull them away.

Nisroc pulls them up, pressing his lips first to his right fingers, and then his left fingers. "Do you feel better?"

He nods again. "I feel better."

"Good," he stands from his seat, tugging softly on his hands, pulling him up to his feet, and he walks around the side of his desk as he pulls him around from the other side. "Come here, my little Saba." He sniffs again as he's pulled forward, wrapped in the older angel's arms, Nisroc, his beloved former guardian, gives the best hugs.

He presses in close, burying his face into the Power's shoulder. "I'm sorry, papa."

Nisroc kisses him on the side of the head. "I know, little wolf, I know you are." He rubs their cheeks together. "I expect you to apologize to Arlo and Titus, am I clear?

He nods. "Yes, papa."

He kisses him on the cheek again. "Good angel."


	270. Breaking The Warden's Rules

"Zoph, can you go hang out with Saba for a bit?"

Qaspiel looks to his feet, in his other form, scuffing his boot over the stone underfoot. Thaddeus is upset, he can hear it in his tone, he's _really_ upset, he's done it this time, he'd dug himself that grave and dived right in.

Zophiel hugs his arm tighter. "Promise you won't be too bad, papa?" He shimmies up against his side, as close as he can manage, his presence is comforting to him. "He didn't mean it."

"Zoph, go on, do as you're told."

The young boy, hugs his arm tighter, looking up to his guard and best friend, best puppy friend, he nods at his order. Squeezing his arm one last time, Zophiel lets go and extracts himself from his side, turning away from them. The door to the Warden's office opens softly, they hear his boots step out, they don't see it, the guard too busy staring at the floor and the Warden staring at him, and then the door clicks shut behind him, his bootsteps fading as he walks away down the hall, to stay with the elder guard, until his escort comes to retrieve him.

"You're upset."

"Damn right I am." His tone is firm, boarder lining on harsh, and he flinches softly. "Do you want to tell me _why_?"

He rubs at the back of his neck, it's warm under his touch, he's turned a beet red. "I…Umm…..I broke Theo's jaw."

"Mhmm. You sure did. He dislocated his jaw bone completely." Thaddeus pauses a moment and he chances a glance up, his gaze is a biting one, it's lit a flame. "You want to tell me why that has me so upset?"

Qaspiel curls his fingers in his tunic, looking back down again, he knows he's crossed a line. "Because we have a certain reputation to uphold."

"Uhuh, what else?"

"Our actions are a direct reflection of your leadership."

"Wow, you seem to know all the answers, for someone so smart, your actions show nothing but immense stupidity." Thaddeus's chair rolls back, he hears it rolling across the floor, it creaks as he stands, and his boots stomp over the stone floor as he crosses out from behind his desk. "Qaspiel, I don't know if you know this, but I punish everyone in my Prison, and when I say everyone, I mean _everyone_." He looks up when the implications of that statement hit him, his eyes wide, and he stares at the Warden, standing before him with his arms crossed. "_Including _my guards."

"No…"

"Oh, yes, you've most _certainly _earned it." He snaps his hand out, snagging him by the ear, pulling him forward, guiding him around to stand before his desk. "Bare yourself." He nods, as best as he can, flinching slightly when it tugs on his ear, and reaches down to shimmy his trousers down. "Now, over the edge of the desk."

Qaspiel gulps, leaning over the edge of the Warden's desk, squeaking when he tugs firmly on his ear. "You stay right here."

He nods quickly, not wanting to upset the man any further, and rests there when he releases his ear and his boots stomp away. He hears the closet door creak open, something rattles, it sounds like a belt buckle, and the thought makes him cringe again, curling his fingers into fists. The closet door creaks closed, and the boots stomp back, he feels a hand press to the middle of his back, and a folded over leather belt presses to his bare rear end.

"Twenty lashes. Count them."

The young guard nods, inhaling when the belt pulls away, it whistles as it pulls away and whistles as it comes back, and he shrieks when it lands, jumping forward, the hand on the middle of his back keeps him from straightening.

"ONE!"

It whistles around again and he shrieks, calling out the second, then the third, followed by the fourth, and repeats on the fifth.

"Next time you do something like that, I'll take my whip to you."

"SIX! OWW OOHOWWWWW!"

"I won't _whip _you with it, not like what comes to mind, it'll be more like a strap."

"SEVEN! OOOWWWWIIIEEEEE! THAAADDDYYYYY OOOWWWWW!"

He aims a lash at his thighs and he shrieks louder, a bit higher in pitch, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "E—EIGHT! OOOOWWWWW OOOOWWWWW! THAADDDYYYY! I'M SORRYYYY!"

"So, if you know what's good for you, there won't be a next time."

Tears trail down his cheeks as a sob tears from his chest. He's never doing this ever again. Never ever again. "OOOWOWWWWWOOWWWWWW! THADDYYYY! NINE! OOOWWWWWOOWWWW!"

He stops lecturing, and just starts laying them down, one right after another, he barely has time to count them out between his harsh raging sobs. Qaspiel curls his hands up over his mouth, sobbing into his fingers, hopping from foot to foot as they continue on passed the fourteenth and fifteenth, right through the sixteenth and seventeenth, over the eighteenth and nineteenth, and ends with a world shaking twentieth.

His chest heaves as he sobs, tears clouding his vision, his butt feels as though someone's doused it in gasoline and lit it aflame.

"Pull your trousers up, Qasp." He nods frantically, not wanting to do anything that dare upset the man even more and tugs his trousers up with shaking tear soaked hands. Over the sound of his harsh sobs, he can hear the Warden stepping away faintly, the creak of the closet door, and then the sound of the boots returning. Fingers curl around his shoulder and pull him around, then they curl around his cheeks, his thumbs rubbing tears away. "Never again, do you hear me, Qaspiel, never again."

The young puppy guard nods again, just as frantically as the first time, sniffling miserably as he cries. Thaddeus smiles at him softly. "Come here, puppy." And pulls him in, curling him in his arms, and he latches onto the man, crying into his shoulder, no sense of shame to be found. The older angel rubs at his back soothingly, small soothing circles. "It's alright, you're okay, there, there, we're all done."

Qaspiel's sobs die into hiccups, and he rubs his nose on his sleeve, curling his arms around the older angel's neck, hanging on tight. "I'm sorry, Thaddy."

"I know you are, puppy, you're all forgiven, we'll speak of it no more."

He nods slightly, sniffling softly, rubbing at his nose again. They sway from side to side, it offers a certain amount of comfort, being curled in this arms and pulls in close, to feel the fuzziness of the beard rubbing against his cheek. "I love you, Thaddy."

"I love you too, puppy, please don't force me to do that again, it kills me to see you cry so horribly."

He nods again, tucking in closer. "I won't, Thaddy, I promise." Curling his fingers in the back of the Warden's tunic, he sighs in comfort when he feels him press a kiss to the side of his head. "Can I stay the night, Thaddy?" It was a redundant question, in a way, he stayed the night with Zoph quite frequently, but he didn't mean staying with Zoph this time, not him alone, anyway. Thaddeus chuckles softly, rubbing their cheeks together fondly, nodding slightly. "Yes, you most certainly can, I wasn't going to let you out of my sight."

Someone knocks at the door, interrupting their silence, and Thaddeus chuckles again, turning them around slightly so he can see the door. "Yes?"

The door opens slightly, just a sliver, and a familiar head pokes in. "Can I come back now?" One was never too far from the other. He chuckles softly and nods. "You can come in."

The youngling pushes the door open, stepping in silently, pushes the door closed, and bounces across the office to where they stand. He attaches himself to their sides, hugging them just as tightly as the guard hugs his Warden, and both elders chuckle softly, curling one of their arms down around his shoulders.

Thaddeus addresses his guard first. "You know what always makes me feel better, Qasp?"

The guard shakes his head. "No, what?"

"The sound of laughter." Thaddeus turns closer to him. "Particularly, the sound of a youngling's laughter."

Qaspiel smiles against the Warden's shoulder, uncurling his arms from around his neck, his form shimmers, he lets himself phase from one to the other, shrinking in size, he jumps up on his two hind legs, knocking the boy over.

Zophiel shrieks as he tumbles backwards. "Woah! Qasp! No—Wait!" He quickly falls into bright peals of laughter when the puppy starts licking at his face and neck, nuzzling his snout over the sensitive skin, torturing the boy as much as a puppy can, he's figured it out, he's learned from his second master.

His Warden has taught him how to torture others while in hound form. He has a very good teacher.


	271. Fun Between Papa and Son

Sorath squeals softly when his fingers find a particularly sensitive spot on his belly and dig in, kicking his feet, he pushes himself forward, throwing his arms around the Power as they tumble forward. Titus curls around his little angel as they tumble backwards, just in case the roll off the bed, so he can protect him from harm in the event that they do.

When they come to a rest, he uncurls from around him, letting his arms fall flat across the large king-sized bed, smiling up to the little guard perched on his waist. "Papa, can we play too?"

He tilts his head slightly. "You want to play?" He reaches out to poke him in the belly. "But I thought you wanted tickles."

The young angel nods. "I want both, papa."

"Oh, I see," Titus smiles up at him, poking him in the belly playfully, he giggles and curls forward. "You want to have a tickle fight."

"Yea!"

"Okay, we can have a tickle fight." He throws his arms back out. "I got you last, so you can get me first."

Sorath giggles, he's watched uncle Nis get his papa enough times to know where to go, what buttons to push, and his hands fly right to his belly, digging his fingers in deeply. The mighty Power shrieks in surprise, bursting into a fit of laughter, his hands flying up swiftly to meet his, his fingers curling around the younger guards, or he attempts to, the younger angel sees him coming and jumps to a different spot, digging his fingers into the Power's sides instead, wiggling in deep, he laughs happily when the Power shrieks again, batting weakly at his hands.

Titus bucks suddenly, forcing himself up, curling his fingers around the young angel's hips, digging his thumbs in, Sorath squeals softly as he falls backwards. Shimmying from side to side, he squeals with laughter as his papa's fingers assault his hips viciously, and he pushes desperately at his chest as he looms over him.

"Tap out, little angel, you tap out!"

"Aaahahhahahahahahhaha eieiiaiaahhaahhahahahahahah paahahahhahahaapppahahahahahaha!"

He makes his break, curling his fingers in the older ribs, and digs in. His papa straightens suddenly, ram rod straight, and shrieks softly, Sorath pushes himself up and forces his papa down onto his back. Climbing up on his belly, he giggles as he makes his papa shriek with laughter, wiggling his fingers over his ribs as viciously as he can manage.

Titus pushes at his hands, but the younger angel is stronger then he looks, and he evades his hands rather skillfully. So, he instead curls his fingers back around his waist, using the fact that he's shirtless to his advantage, and pulls him upwards. Sorath shrieks softly as he's thrust forward, collapsing over his papa's face, and the Power buries his face in his belly, nibbling into the slight pudge roll over his lower belly, and Sorath squeals, trying to lift himself, only to find himself trapped as his captain wraps his arms around his waist. He squeals again when he blows a long hard raspberry into his belly button, pounding his fists against the pillows when he blows another, cackling and squealing with laughter.

"Tap out, baby boy, tap out, or papa's gonna give you as many berries as I can."

Sorath squeals again, when he blows another raspberry for good measure, encouragement to be the first one to tap out, and he does, screaming out his defeat, squealing again at the blow of another raspberry.

His papa chuckles against his belly, rolling them over on the bed, Sorath laying against the pillows and him relaxing over his belly, laying over his crossed arms. "Have fun?"

The little guard nods, giggling to himself, and he smiles at him, patting his fingers over his belly. "Want to take a nap?"

Sorath nods, petting his fingers through the Power's hair, and Titus smiles again, leaning over to kiss his belly. "Okay, let's take a nap."


	272. Livening Up The Dull

"Pronoa, can I have a word with you?" The younger healer looks up, nodding at his request, and sets the pages they had been reading down in favor of following their superior to where he guided them. They walked back to the back of the Infirmary, down the hall where the dorms were, and it surprised them that he knew which one was theirs, as he opened the door and gestured for them to enter their room, stepping in behind them, and he closed the door behind himself. They turn to face him, standing in the center of the room. "I thought it would be best to deal with this in private."

She looks up at him with confusion shining in her eyes. "Deal with what, Ak?"

"Pronoa, I don't know how to say this beating around the bush, so I'll be blunt with you." Akriel rests his hands on his hips lightly. "I've had some complaints."

Pronoa tilts her head slightly. "Complaints?"

"Yes, complaints," he nods lightly. "People are saying that you're boring. Too monotone. Robotic. I didn't think anything of these complaints, but listened in on a few of your sessions to see for my self whether or not they held way, and well, Pronoa, you need some inflection in your tone. Some sort of emotion. You sound so _bored_. Do you not like being one of my healers?"

Being the mental specialist, Akriel's personal healers dabbled in the specialty as well, usually posing as councilors or therapists, he was the only one who could prescribe any actual medication though.

She shakes her head assertively. "No, I do like being one of your healers. I like being able to help people one on one like we do."

"I can see it's very clearly not just in your sessions, Pronoa you have no inflection in your voice, its much too even, you sound like a record being played, you need some _emotion_." He waves his right hand slightly. "You need _something_."

"I—I didn't even realize." She looks down to her hands, fiddling her fingers softly. "I'm sorry."

"It's nothing you need to apologize for, I'm not upset at you, I just—" Akriel runs his fingers through his hair, brushing his long bangs back, sighing softly. "I just want to know what I can do to fix it. I _know_ you have emotions. I _know _you like your job. I just want to know what I can do to help you."

Pronoa shrugs lightly. "I—I don't know."

"Okay, how do you feel?" He waves his hand again, flicking his fingers. "Happy, mad, upset, tired, what do you feel most of the time?"

"Happy," she nods in assurance, though whether is was to him or for herself, remains to be seen. "I feel happy most of the time."

"Okay, we can do happy," the mental specialist nods lightly. "Most happy people talk with a lightness in their tone. Bubbly. Their smile is spoken through their tone, they _sound _like they're smiling, some people even have a slight giggle in the background." He tilts his head slightly as their eyes meet again. "Do you think you can do that?"

"Sure, it sounds easy enough, I think I can do that."

"Okay, let's give it a try, go ahead, start off one of your sessions."

"Okay," she nods, taking a deep breath, looks down to her hands for a moment, and looks back up at him. "Hello, what are we talking about today?"

"That's a bit better," he nods encouragingly. "But, you're still a bit dull, you sounds too forced, it's not real." He moves his hands from his hips, stepping forward, he curls his fingers under her arms, and lifts the short little healer from her feet. "Let me help you." He lifts her up a bit over his shoulders, and instinctively, her mind knew to curl her legs around his waist, her fingers curling over his shoulders, he curls his arms under her to keep her in place and smiles at her, pressing their foreheads together. "I know you have a bubbly side in there, you just keep it hidden, why do you hide it from us?"

Pronoa returns his smile, its smaller than his, shyer, and she looks down, averting her eyes from his. "I don't know." He kisses her nose gently and she looks back up at him. "I guess I'm just shy, I don't know, I didn't know I was being boring."

"I don't believe it's that your shy," he shakes his head, leaning in to rub their noses together, this is their private moment, they can do anything. "You're a little chatterbox when you're with me or one of the others. Why not with your patients?"

She shrugs again. "I don't know."

"I have an idea we can try."

The little healer tilts her head slightly. "What?"

Akriel puckers his lips lightly, and she smiles at him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, and he chuckles softly, pulling away from her forehead, he curls around, burying his face into the side of her neck, and presses a dozen playful little kisses over the side of her neck. She shrieks softly, giggling brightly, high pitched little giggles, and pushes against his shoulders as he goes through another round of light tickly kisses. "Ahahahhak! Ehehehhehehheheh stohohohop! Ehehehheeahahahahhaaeeehehehhehehe!" He shakes his head gently, rubbing his beard over the sensitive skin of her neck, and she shrieks again, scrunching her shoulder up. "Ahahahhak! Nohohoho! Nohohot thahahat! Eehehehehhehe ehehehehehe! Plehehehehease!" She feels him pucker his lips again and press another round of kisses in and she squeaks softly, her fingers curling harder into his shoulder. "Nohohhooho! Nohohoho kihihihihisses! Ahahahhak! Eehehehheheheheeaahahahhaahahhaha! Okahahahahaay okahhaahhahahay!"

She feels him smile before he pulls away, pressing their foreheads together again, pecking the tip of her nose. "Did you like that?" She smiles again, giggling softly, scrunching up her nose when he presses another kiss to the tip of her nose again. "I did too, we'll do this, every time I hear that emotionless drab tone in one of your sessions, I'll pucker my lips up, and if you see me doing that, you can bet on your lucky stars that after that session, I'm going to get you, coerce that bubbly nature out of you." He rubs their noses together. "And, I may not always go for your neck. I know a few nice places to go for. Like that belly or those feet. I could pick anywhere and you won't know until I get you."

Pronoa giggles softly, a sound that makes him smile again, and she nods lightly. "Okay, Ak, we can do that."

"Alrighty, then, it's a plan."


	273. Reacquainting Ourselves

Thaddeus turns away from them when he's finished with them, when he's sure they've been thoroughly comforted after being thoroughly reprimanded, dismissing them silently back to their posts, clearly under the impression that they were taking their leave.

He rubs at his bottom again and shakes his head when his friend shoots him a glance, he's not done here yet, but the other guard has nothing more to stay here for, and Mendrion nods as he takes his leave, closing the door behind him softly. He turns back to look at the Warden's back, watching him read over a page silently, not a sound is made, not even the rustling of parchment.

"Thaddy.." He blinks when the Warden jumps, spinning around, pressing a hand to his chest, and giggles softly at the expression of shock he wears. "Sorry."

"My God, Rogziel, give me a heart attack, why don't you!" Clearly, he had thought they both had left when the office door closed. He reaches back and sets the page back down to rest on his desk. "What can I do for you, Rogziel?"

He looks down to his feet for a moment before returning his gaze to meet the older angels. "Can you…Can you call me Rog…Like you used to?"

"Are you my Rog though?" Thaddeus tilts his head. "I remember my Rog very well, he was a snarky little thing, but he was never cruel, he was kind, he laughed often, he treated everyone with the same kindness he wanted to be treated with. He was someone who could be friends with just about everyone, not a bully, not someone who I would think would make another cry."

"I'm still your Rog, I promise!" He nods his head, taking a step forward, and then thinks twice on it, and takes a step back. "I just…..I forgot….I let myself be fooled…I let myself be deceived with pretty words…But, I'm still your Rog, I swear, I'm still me, I promise, I'm still yours!"

"My Rog would apologize when he hurt someone's feelings." Thaddeus stares at him critically. "Are you going to apologize to Sabaoth for hurting his feelings?"

"Yes!" He takes another chance, jumping forward a step, and this time he stays there, he doesn't back away a step like he did last time. "Yes, I'll apologize to him, I'm sorry Thaddy, I'm sorry I hurt his feelings. I promise I'm still your Rog, I promise, Thaddy!"

Thaddeus smiles at him, opening his arms for him, and Rogziel feels hope swell up inside of him. "C'mere, _my _Rog." He smiles brightly, jumping forward, back into the Warden's arms. Thaddeus chuckles, curling him in tightly, pressing a kiss over his curls. "I missed you, Rog, look at how big you've gotten! When I last saw you, you barely came up to my chest, you were tiny!"

The guard giggles softly, tucking his head under the Warden's chin, pressing his ear to his chest. "I'm still small though."

"Yes, you most certainly are." He squeezes the little guard tightly for a moment, resting his chin over his curls, and sways them gently from side to side. "I can still bundle you up just like before." He presses a kiss to his head tenderly. "These curls are still just as wild, you could do with a haircut, I'll set aside some time for us later and I'll give you one."

Rogziel smiles slightly, pressing closer, tightening his hold around him, curling his fingers in the Warden's tunic. "I missed you, Thaddy. I became a guard so we could be together. But when I got here you were different."

"I know, Rog, I wasn't myself, but I am now, I'm back, and I'm not going anywhere ever again."

"I could kill her for what she did."

"You'll do no such thing, mister." He hugs him close, threading his fingers through the curls on the back of his head, scratching at his scalp lightly. "You'll stay here with me, so I can keep an eye on you, I'm not letting you go."

The guard smiles again, purring softly at the feeling of fingers scratching at the back of his head, and leans against the older angel a bit more. "Thaddy, can I stay with you tonight?"

Thaddeus chuckles softly. "Yes, you can stay with me." He squeezes him tenderly. "Come on, let's head upstairs, it's about time I fix up supper." Rogziel smiles, curling his arm around the Warden's right arm, letting him guide him forward, across the office, out the door, and up the stairs. Half way up the can smell the fragrance of something delicious, and it makes their mouths water, Thaddeus opens the door to his room and they step inside to see what awaits them.

Sabaoth looks up from stirring the contents of the cauldron, Sasha giggles and waves at him excitedly from the bed, jumping from the edge, he runs over to meet them, and the Warden sweeps him up onto his free arm. He wiggles the arm the younger guard is hanging from. "Don't you have something you need to say?"

Rogziel nods slightly, looking up to meet the eyes of the new warden, Thaddy's second in command. "I'm sorry, Sabaoth, I was….I allowed myself to be misguided…..I'm sorry I hurt your feelings."

The oldest of the Prison guards stares at him critically, as though looking for deception, and smiles slightly when he spots none. "It's okay, I guess with all escaped ourselves to a certain degree." He gestures to the cauldron. "It was a chilly night, so I made chili."

Their Warden chuckles softly, bouncing the fledgling on his arm, and the fledgling giggles happily. "Very poetic, Saba."

"Thank you, I thought it was."

"I also see you've changed." Thaddeus steps into the room completely, kicking the door closed behind them, to keep the warmth in. "Comfortable?"

"Your clothes are always comfortable."

"I'm glad." He looks down to the younger guard attached to his arm. "You get yourself changed, you've worn my shirts before, you know where they are." Rogziel nods, parting from his side, to change into something to wear for the night.

Sabaoth serves up four bowls, setting them on the table, with spoons and napkins.

"Eat up."

He soon finds that he's extremely grateful that his bed is as big as it is, with two guard curled up against his sides and one fledgling sprawled out over his chest. He's not complaining, they're all warm, and he's content.


	274. Telling Big Brother

"He was _what_?"

It warms his heart to see such rage flare in his eyes, to know that even after he hurt his baby brother, he still cared enough to get angry at the thought of someone mistreating the young guard in question. It meant he stilled cared, and that's what he liked to see, Saba had a big heart.

"Bullied, he's been bullied for a long while for how he looks."

"But he looks _fine_. I don't _understand._" Sabaoth is at a loss, he curls his hands around the edge of his captain's desk, leaning forward. "But, he's so _nice_. How could someone treat him so _badly_?"

"Bullies will treat anyone horribly, no matter how kind they truly are, believe it or not, you are his one and true friend."

"I can't believe this." He throws himself back in his chair, running a hand over his face lightly, shaking his head gently. "So, he wasn't trying to be deliberately mean, he was just trying to protect himself before the chance of Sora hurting him came around."

Titus nods. "Correct." He taps his fingers against the desk top. "He thinks you hate him now."

Sabaoth looks back up at him. "I could never hate him. He's one of my best friends. One of my baby brothers. I could _never."_

"I know that, you know that, but he, he does not."

"Well, I have to change that, he needs to know." He pushes himself up from his chair, turning for the door, Titus smiles at his retreating form. "Saba," the guard turns to look at him over his shoulder. "Go for his belly."

"His belly?"

He nods lightly, smiling up at him. "Go for the belly. It's very adorable."

Sabaoth smiles slightly, nodding his head. "I'll be sure to go for his belly."

"Very good, have fun, send him my love."

…

He finds the younger guard in his room, humming to himself, as he went about straightening up the place. Sorting laundry, changing his sheets, remaking his bed. He doesn't notice him standing in the doorway, so he steps in, closing the door behind himself silently, it clicks softly behind him.

"Peli?"

The younger guard freezes, growing tense for a moment, and turns to look at him from over his shoulder. "Saba?"

"Peli, Tus told me everything," he steps forward. Peliel turns around to face him as he approaches. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

He looks down, averting his eyes, curling his fingers in the front of his tunic. "I didn't want you to leave me when you found out."

Sabaoth shakes his head, lifting the younger guards head with a finger under his chin, smiling down at him gently when their eyes meet. "Peli, you're one of my best friends, one of my baby brothers, I'd never leave you."

"You swear?"

He nods lightly. "I swear. I love you too much to leave you." He smiles slightly, poking him in the belly, Peliel shrieks softly and jumps back a step. "I've been told that your belly is _very _adorable." He pokes the young angel's belly again, smiling when he squeaks and swats at his hand. "My, my, this _is _very adorable."

Peliel holds his hands up defensively. "N—Now, Saba—"

"I don't think I've ever heard you make that little noise before." He pokes him in the belly again, rapidly, and the younger guard giggles feverishly, swatting at his hands in vain. "Let's see what other sounds I can get you to make." He curls his fingers under his arms and lifts him from his feet with ease, tossing him back over his bed, Peliel shrieks lightly as he's thrown, bouncing on his bed lightly as he lands. Sabaoth smiles at him, climbing up over him, laying himself over his legs, to keep him from squirming away.

"Saba! My clothes!"

"Don't worry, I'll help you fold them back up." He affirms absently as he pushes the younger guards tunic up, revealing his chubby belly from underneath, Peliel blushes at the way his belly sticks out slightly over the edge of his trousers and curls his arms around himself in embarrassment. "Hey, hey, why are you hiding from me?"

"I don't want you to see!" He frets worriedly. "You think I'm fat and stop being my friend!"

"I don't think you're fat." The older guard curls his fingers around both wrists, pulling his arms away, opening his adorable little belly back up. "You're just as fit as I am. They really did you wrong. You shouldn't be ashamed about how you look. You're perfect." He looks up at him for a brief moment. "And there is nothing, absolutely nothing, that will make me stop being your friend." The older guard looks back down to his belly. "Tus was right, I think this this belly is pretty adorable, out of all my baby brothers bellies, this one is the cutest." He smiles up at him playfully. "Let's see how this belly handles berries."

"Saba, no, wait!" His eyes widen when the older guard takes a deep breath and buries his face into his belly. "NOOOEEOEOEIEIEIEIEIIAAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Oh, my gosh." Sabaoth chuckles as he looks up at him, smiling in amusement. "That was _adorable_." He looks back down. "Let's do it again."

"Wait, Saba, wait!" He presses his head back against the pillow when he takes another breath and buries his face back in his belly. "WAAIAIAAIAIAIHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHHOOHOEEEIIEIEIIEIIAIEAIAIAIIIAAIHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHHAHA AHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! SAHAHHAHAABBAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAEEIEIEIIEIAIAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHHHOHOHOHO EEIEIIEIAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHHAA HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHA! SABA NOOOEIEIEIIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!"

He chuckles again, sitting up once more. "My, my, this belly is mighty ticklish, isn't it?" Sabaoth lets go of his wrists, digging his fingers into his belly, wiggling them in deeply. "I can't believe I've never been told this; I know these things about all my baby brothers, this just makes this belly even more adorable. This is great. I love this belly."

Peliel can only cackle, laughing hysterically as his fingers wiggle in all over, searching out all those sweet spots that really got him going, his head thrown back and his hands batting weakly at the older angel's hands.

"I'm going to personally take on the self-assigned mission to make sure you know how beautiful you are." He wiggles his index fingers on either side of his belly button and his laughter picks up in pitch. "I want you to say, _'I am beautiful'_."

"I—I…Aaahahahahahahahhaha ahahahahahahahahahhaha I—I…I aahahahhahahaha ahhahahahahahaha!"

"Okay, okay," he halts his attack. "I'll stop, now you say it."

Peliel giggles feverishly, smiling, as he looks down at his older brother. "But I'm not—eeieiiaiaiahahahahahhahahahhaa nohhohohhoho! Nohohohot thehehehehehhere!"

"That's not what I want to hear," he tones in playfully. "Does your belly need more berries to convince you to say it?"

The younger guard shakes his head frantically, shrieking with soft laughter, swatting at his hands again. "Aahahahhahahaha nohohohohoho! Nohohoho beehehehehheherries! Pleehehehhehehehease!"

"Then, you better say it." He states firmly. "Because, if I hear anything else come out of that mouth then you're getting a mouthful of berries."

Peliel nods quickly and he halts his attack again. "Okay, go on, say it."

"I—I..I'm behehheeahahahhaheheheeautiful!"

"Good boy, now say it again."

Peliel giggles softly. "I'm beautiful."

Sabaoth smiles up at him, leaning over to press a kiss to his lower belly, it makes him giggle harder. "Now, say _'I am perfect.'_

"But—"

"Berries?"

He giggles harder, shaking his head from side to side. "No! Nohohohoho! I'll say it! I prohohomise!"

"Alrighty," Sabaoth pinches his lower belly softly. "Go ahead and say it."

"I—I'm perfect."

"Darn right, you are." He pokes his belly one last time and rolls off his legs, resting next to him on the bed, Peliel giggles breathlessly and pulls his tunic back down, rubbing the tingles off his belly. "You're down right adorable."

"Saba," Peliel smiles to himself. "You're my best friend."

Sabaoth reaches out, smoothing his curls back. "You're my best friend too, Peli, my little baby brother." He reaches out to poke his belly playfully. "With a cute little belly."


	275. The Beginning Of Retirement

Nisroc hums to himself as he makes his way down the hall under the Pavilion, passed his own office, passed Titus's office, passed the guards barracks, down the hall to the Archangel's office. It was not often Michael requested a meeting with him, he left the training field to his supervision, and he knew it was no easy task to keep track of everyone that trained out there, Nisroc was the most perceptive person he knew, save for perhaps Titus, but in different ways.

He turns to face the door, reaching up to knock on the wooden surface with his knuckles, leaning in to listen for the granting of his request for entrance. It's a soft call that answers him, but he hears it, and he reaches down for the door handle, turning it, the lock clicks open, and he pushes the door open. Entering the office, he spots the Archangel, standing before the window that over hangs the training field, his back facing him.

"Michael," the Captain calls out softly, to ensure he knows he's there, and turns to close the door behind him. "You wanted to see me?"

"I did." The Archangel nods. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course." Nisroc crosses to stand before the Archangel's desk, looking down at the contents, to see if he can spy anything that's any indication as to why he was called here, he sees nothing that stands out to him. "Is there something wrong?"

"Yes, there is," Michael turns to look at him at last, gesturing for him to sit in one of the chairs on the opposing side of his desk, and he slides down into one as the Archangel sits in the chair behind his desk. "Nothing you have done, do not fret, you are not in any trouble." He nods, that is a semblance of relief, but it does nothing to relieve his other nerves. "I've been doing some deep thinking lately, some self-reflection, a bit of introspection." He nods, hanging on to every word, not wanting to interrupt, he knows the Archangel is not finished.

His Commander rubs at his forehead, falling silently for a moment, and closes his eyes for a brief time. "I am tired, Nisroc. I am so very tired. I am not attempting to insinuate that I've been through more then anyone else has, we've all suffered, but I am so tired, I don't believe I can bring myself back again. I don't think I am _strong _enough, this time."

"Sir?"

"I've planned this for some time, every responsibility I've placed on you was to lead you up to one pivotal moment, to prepare you for one course of action, I've been grooming you to be who you are meant to be." Michael finally opens his eyes, and in them, he sees defeat, he sees a sense of weariness, he sees someone who's lived a thousand lives and finally wants to rest, who is too worn to take another step forward. "I am not infallible, I've wronged more souls then I would like to dwell on, I am repeating a history that I swore to never allow to play out again. Yes," he nods. "I am speaking of young Zophiel. It was wrong of my to give him a life sentence, without hearing his story, you are right, it is the same exact thing that I had done to Gadreel. I had sworn to myself, after his release, that no one else would feel the same suffering he did, no one else would live through the same sentence I placed on him, and yet I have. I fear the damage I have caused to his young soul is irreparable."

Nisroc nods in agreement, he was there when Michael had made that vow, he remembers it.

"Nisroc, my Captain, I have come to the conclusion that I am no longer fit to lead this Flock. I am emotionally compromised, and I am so tired, it is time for me to rest, to pass on the torch to another. To lead my flock with the heart and care that I should have, that I cannot provide anymore, someone who I know will look out for my men, my youngling trainees, with the eye of a hawk, someone that they all trust without question. It is not me; I do not hold such a place in their hearts any longer, my time has passed."

He tilts his head. "Sir, Michael, I don't understand."

"I am giving _you _my flock, Captain, or, I should say, _Commander_."

"Y—You're giving me your _flock_?"

Michael nods lightly. "There is no one else I would rather have leading my men then the one I trust the most. That is you."

"I—I don't—_Me_?" The Power can't wrap his mind around it, out of all the possible outcomes from this meeting that had been requested from him, this was not on that list of endings. "Are you _sure_?"

"I've been sure for some time now, admittedly, it was me who was not ready, but I've known you have been for quite a long time."

"But, what about the others, I'm already the Captain of the—"

"Powers, yes, I know. You can still maintain your position as Captain, you've been handling most of my duties as you are right now, there's not much more to pass down to you. Abraxos would do well to aid you should your plate become full, he's been helping you as it is, the others as well, I know you all do everything together as a unit, not individually." He smiles at him softly. "You were always the one I was going to give my flock to, Nisroc, and you're ready, you're more than ready."

"I..I don't know what to say."

Michael smiles at him again. "I know it's a lot to take in. But I trust in your ability and your leadership. You will lead them better than I can now." He nods firmly. "You're ready, Nisroc, I know you are."


	276. Their Councils First Meeting

"Noel?" She blinks awake at the soft voice calling her name, the gentle stroking of her cheek, her eyes flutter open from the sleep she had fallen into, curled up on her side on the Warden's bed, the blankets curled around her shoulders, her arms curled up under her chin. Her golden eyes blink a few more times, before they flit up, meeting the soft blue of the Warden's. He smiles at her, stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers, tilting his head in tune with hers. "It's time to go."

The refugee nods lightly, her hands shaking as she curls her fingers around the edge of the blankets, pushing them down, lifting herself into a seated position, she turns, setting her feet on the stone floor, its warm under her feet. Thaddeus stands up, his knees popping softly as he does, and turns, reaching for her boots, setting them down before her.

She focuses on her boots as he turns, gathering up his paperwork on his desk, he'd been finishing it up while she slept, while they waited for the time to pass for the council meeting. He turns as she stands, watching as she brushes her hands down the front of her gown, smoothing out the front, shaking out the skirt, tugging the vest back in place. The older angel offers her his hand when she looks up to meet his eyes, and she steps forward, curling her small fingers around his large ones, clutching on for dear life, she doesn't want to let go, as though letting go would mean they'd deny her claim and send her back.

He squeezes her fingers gently. "It'll be okay."

Noel nods lightly, braids slipping over her shoulder, and she reaches up with her free hand to toss them back again.

He guides them out of his room, down the stairs, passed the guards stationed there, and down the hall towards the exit of the massive Prison. She looks up to the sunny sky as they step out, watching birds fly about freely, smiling up at them slightly, watching them swirl and twirl above them. They walk down the Axis together, she clutches at his hand with both of hers, this was her only chance, if they denied her, there was no coming back, and if they sent her back, that would mean it was the end. They walk side by side up the stairs towards the Throne Room, it's doors are closed, it's a private meeting, no outsiders allowed.

They stop there, and he nods at the guards, she pulls his arm closer, hugging his arm tightly, holding onto his hand still with her right hand, and he squeezes her fingers again as they open the doors and they step in. She jumps slightly when the doors slam shut again, peering up to see the council.

In the center sits the eldest, Michael watches them closely, with the eyes of a Commander. At his right was the Morningstar, Lucifer is leaning against the right armrest of his throne, hold his head up with a hand under his chin. On the Morningstar's other side, the Messenger smiles at her, Gabriel is kind. And on Michael's left is the Healer, Raphael eyes her critically, with concern, taking note of her nerves immediately.

They come to stand in the middle of them room, just a few paces away from them, standing in line with the eldest's throne. She inhales deeply and turns, curling around, hiding her face in the Warden's shoulder, she doesn't want to see their faces if they deny her request, she doesn't want to see their eyes. Thaddeus leans forward, Michael leaning forward himself, arm outstretched as he reached for the file in his hand, and then curls his arms around her waist when he straightens again, letting her hide away in his shoulder.

"Raphael," Michael calls the meeting to begin with addressing the Healer first. "What are your findings?"

The Healer crosses his arms loosely. "She's a mess, brother, her injuries are still healing, she's been tortured, perhaps experimented on, that I don't have conclusive evidence for to prove anything theories. It would be detrimental to send her back." He nods at the Warden, they'd talked about this rather often, they had their suspicions, but Noel wasn't too open on the matter. "I cast my vote to grant her request."

Michael nods, turning his head slightly to the side. "Gabriel, what say you?"

The Messenger hums softly. "I've gotten to know her a bit, she's got a good heart, a bright spirit, I agree with Raph." He nods slightly. "I cast my vote to grant her request."

Michael nods again, turning his gaze to the one next to him, Lucifer turns to meet his eyes, tapping a finger to his lips in thought. "Lucifer?"

The Morningstar looks back to your girl hiding in the Warden's shoulder, she's shaking slightly, nearly unnoticeable with how gentle it is, but he sees it. "Where does she want to go, if we were to grant her request?"

Thaddeus rubs his hand over her back soothingly, he can feel her shaking, and answers for her. "She wants to be a healer." Raphael perks up slightly. "She wants to help people."

Lucifer nods, humming softly in thought. "That's very noble." He nods to the older archangel at his side. "I vote to grant her request."

Michael nods, Thaddeus is confident in the outcome, three fourths of the council had casted their vote in the positive, even if Michael said no, she would have a place with them. He'd be outvoted if he voted in the opposition. "I've read through everything we have, all the notes, all the documents." He nods himself. "It is under my opinion that if we were to send you back, it would be detrimental to your safety, and caring for others is what makes us starkly different then our counterparts." He nods again. "I cast my vote to grant your request, your request for Asylum has been approved, you are one of us and shall remain until they day you fade."

The others nod in agreement, she doesn't turn to look at them, Thaddeus hears her whisper her appreciation and he's the one to intone it to them in turn, this is all a bit overwhelming, so they're rather understanding.

Gabriel and Lucifer leave together, the younger sharing a new joke he had heard, and the elder hanging on to every word, and though he didn't seem to find the joke very humorous, he still laughs softly to make the younger archangel happy.

Michael nods to the Healer as he follows after the other two, and Raphael steps down from the platform their thrones reside on, standing before the Warden and the shaking refugee, he presses his hand lightly to her lower back. "Noel, your request as he been granted, I would be more then pleased to have you in my flock."

She peeks out from the Warden's shoulder, her forehead rubbing against the side of his neck and the curve of his chin, golden eyes looking up to meet electric blue. "R—Really?"

"Yes," he holds his hand out to her in offering. "Come with me, I will show you to your new home."

She stares up at him, and then she pulls away from the Warden slightly, her golden eyes turning to look up at him too. Thaddeus smiles down at her, kissing the tip of her nose, nodding slightly in encouragement. "It's alright, he's kind, he'll take good care of you." He rubs her back again. "You can come see me any time you want. You're always welcome."

Noel nods, hugging him tightly one last time, and turns out of his arms, curling her fingers tightly around the Healer's large hand. Raphael smiles down at her gently, squeezing her fingers lightly, she smiles up at him shyly and steps closer, curling her arm around his too, just as she had with the Warden.

The Healer nods to the Warden in appreciation. "Thank you, Thaddeus, for everything."

"Of course." He waves at the little angel, smiling to her, as she's guided around by the Healer, as he escorts her to her new home. The Warden sighs softly, shaking his head, and turns, patting his hands together as he makes his own leave. He wasn't returning to an empty home. Zander was there waiting for him.


	277. The Empath's Little Empath

He finds her curled up in a ball, pressed back against the wall, up against the side of a desk. He knows what's wrong immediately, she's still young, she's still learning. He's been an empath for a long time, nearly all his life, probably since the day he was born, so he's had time in learning to control it and build his walls. She's still learning that fine art, it's a work in progress, he was slightly overwhelmed himself, when the warriors all suddenly swarmed in from the front lines, replaced by another squadron.

Ephraim had asked Oren to cover for him for a short time as he found a dark quiet place to recuperate and build up his mental blocks to keep the overwhelming rolling emotions from overwhelming him again.

"Rahmiel, can you hear me?" She clutches at her head, shivering slightly, and barely passes along a nod of acknowledgement. He accepts it though and reaches out for her. "I'm going to touch you, alright?" She nods again, and he curls his fingers around her middle lifting her up as he stands, she remains curled in her ball, but curls around him too when he straightens up to his full height, curling her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, burying her face into the side of his neck. Wet tears drip down into the collar of his tunic.

He nods over to his older brother, and Oren nods in return, he'll cover for him for the time being, they took good care of the healers that worked under them, especially the young ones, they gave their best as long as they were _at_ their best.

Carrying the little healer away from the corner she'd curled herself in, he carries her briskly through the beds, to the back of the Infirmary, and makes his way up the stairs to the Loft above. The Loft is sound proof, the noise from the bustling Infirmary dies away the closer they get to the upstairs, and fades away completely when they step into the lounge.

The Virtue carries her through the lounge, passed the kitchen, and down the hall to his room. His room is dark, just as he'd left it, not too hot, but warmer then the outside world, and dark, save for the soft glow of three candles, the flames flickering and dancing.

"Come on, lay down, settle in." He leans over, cradling the back of her head with his left hand, he sets her down to rest on his bed. "Keep your eyes closed." She nods, a minuscule movement, barely a twitch, and he leaves her side for a moment for his desk instead, where he has a small bowl of water and cloth strips warming over a small burner. They were there for when he came back, but he has enough to share, he always makes more then he needs, just in case he needs to replace one or two if they became too cool as he rewound from the day. Choosing two strips, he returns to her side, and sits on the edge of the bed. "Keep your eyes closed, okay, Rah?" She nods again, and he sets the strips down over his right knee, takes up on in his hands and lays it over her eyes, it curls down to rest just above her ears. Then he takes the second and lays it over her temple. "Good, now, take a deep breath." She inhales softly but deeply. "And, let it out." She exhales on command.

Rahmiel reaches out, and he knows what it's for, so he curls her hand up in his and presses his lips to her knuckles. "It's nice and silent in here, there are runes carved into the walls to block out any outside vibes, it's like we're in a vacuum." Ephraim kisses her knuckles again. "The migraine will fade in a few moments, if it doesn't do so on it's own, I'll give you something to numb everything." She nods faintly, taking another deep breath without prompting, practicing her deep breathing, as she's been taught, to calm down the overwhelming tension migraine rocking her head around.

It slowly fades, just as he said it would, and she sighs in comfort when the rocking of her brain slowly fades away, everything settling down, resting in the places everything should be resting in.

"Okay, I'm going to uncover your eyes, I want you to keep them closed until I say, and when I tell you to, I want you to open them slowly."

The little empath nods slightly, and he reaches out, lifting the strip up and away from her eyes. He replaces it back in the warm water, grabs another, and replaces the one resting over her temple, before sitting back on the edge of the bed.

"Okay, now, I don't want you to touch your eyes, you're going to be temped to, but don't let yourself do it, alright?"

Rahmiel nods again. "Okay, Ephi." She whispers softly.

"Good, okay, go ahead and open your eyes."

He watches her carefully, for any indication that her migraine is returning, as she flutters her eyes open. The older healer smiles when she sighs though, an indication that it wasn't, and her eyes meet his in the darkness. "Feeling better?"

She nods softly. "Mhmm."

"Good. I've had plenty a migraine in my life time, I've come to know how to treat them."

"Thanks, Ephi."

"Don't mention it." He strokes her cheek with a finger. "I'll teach you how to control your gift and how to build your protective mental walls."

She smiles up at him. "You're the best, Ephi."

"Hey, you're not too bad yourself."


	278. The Medic's Elect

She lays in the middle of her bed, staring up at the ceiling, it was all still so surreal, it had all happened so fast. The Power had come to her barrack, seeking her out specifically, telling her to get her things, she had thought she had done something wrong, her and the medic sparred sometimes and she'd won twice, she wondered if she wasn't supposed to, if they were going to kick her out now, she was going to be dismissed from the Warriors flock and be forced to seek somewhere else to go instead.

She'd followed behind the Powers medic as he guided her upstairs to their living quarters, the Captain congratulated her, nodding at the medic as they passed him in the kitchen, and she followed him down the hall, where their rooms were located, to an empty room near the end.

He walked her in, it was sparse, few pieces of furniture. There was a bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and a bedside table. The bed was already made up, pillows and sheets and blankets.

It was her room, he said, and he chuckled when she asked what he meant, and told her that she was his Elect. Everyone knew what it meant when a Power Elected them, it meant that they were chosen to be included in their close knit family, it was a rarity, it didn't happen often, the last one had been months previous, Sablo, she'd heard of him, if anyone deserved it, it was him.

"Tatrasiel," she's torn from her thoughts at the sound of her name, smiling when the medic tugs her down by the ankles, he was extremely playful, she'd gotten to know him rather well through her time on the training field. He returns her smile as he crawls up over her, laying himself over her legs, she squirms slightly, but doesn't manage to free herself, he's heavier then she is strong, not to say she was weak, he was just bigger then she was, in girth and height. "Tatra, you look conflicted, tell me what's on your mind."

"Are you sure." She runs her fingers through his damp curls, curling her fingers around the back of his head, looking back down to meet his gaze once more. "To pick me?"

"Well, of course I'm right." He pokes her into her left side gently, and she squeaks, curling away from his finger as much as she can manage, thankfully, it doesn't follow. "You've beaten _me _in our sparring matches and I'm no easy opponent to face."

"Should I not have?" Tatrasiel frowns lightly. "Was I wrong?"

"No, you most certainly were not wrong." He pokes a finger into her right side gently, and when she curls away from that finger, she curls back into his left finger, she squeaks again, a smile stretching over her features as his fingers slowly wiggle into her sides, not enough to make her giggle or laugh, but enough to make her smile, those giggles right on her lips. "When I spar against someone, I expect them to give it their all, and you most certainly did, and you _won _twice. That's more then others can say when I've sparred with them." He smiles down at her slight squirming self. "I knew you were perfect the moment I met you, and as we got to know each other, I knew I choose the right one. You've got an adorable little giggle, infectious laughter, a bright smile, a wonderful personality, and you're an exceptional fighter. That's exactly what we look for in one of our Elects, as one of us, you have all we look for in a Power."

Tatrasiel smiles at him, curling her fingers around his cheeks, smooshing them slightly. "You're really playfully."

"I know," he pokes his tongue out at her. "It's one of the reasons Abraxos elected me." He digs his fingers into her sides, and she shrieks, curling up slightly, as best as she could, her bright laughter filling the room around them. "I like to think it's one of my best qualities." The new Elect squirms around under his fingers, curling from side to side, his fingers following her which ever way she went, her hands flying down from his cheeks to curl around his hands, trying to pull them away, but she manages little in her attempts. "And, as a bonus, you happen to be fun to play with."

She giggles breathlessly when he finally pauses his attack, her fingers curled tightly around his hands, and he smiles at her playfully. Tatrasiel smiles brightly, her previous doubts forgotten, as she holds onto his hands in her attempt to keep him from attacking again. They've been in this position a few times, she knows the attack is far from over, he's just getting started. "You're like a tickle monster."

Puriel smiles at her, squeezing his fingers into her lower sides gently, she squeaks and arches slightly. "That's _exactly _what I am." He curls his fingers around her hips and squeezes gently, again and again, and she shrieks again, curling upwards, her back lifting from the bed slightly, as she laughs brightly and loudly, shimmying her hips from side to side, trying to pull away from his fingers. "I'm a big bad _tickle monster _and you're my newest most favorite victim because you're just _so_ darn ticklish, even more so then Sablo, and he's mighty ticklish himself."

"Puhuhuhuhurihihihihihi! Puuhuhuhuhuurrrihihihihihihi! Stohohohhhohohop! Nohohot thehehehehherrehehehehe! Eehehehhehehehhehehhehehhe!"

"Oh, but this isn't the best spot, is it, this is just the warm up spot, isn't it?"

She shakes her head, though whether it's to tell him it was not, or to tell him not to, was up for discussion. He likes to think it was the former. He's usually right. More times than not.

"No, it's not, where are they at?" She shakes her head, breathing erratically when he finally stops squeezing her hips, and he smiles. "Oh, I've done plenty of research, I already know where they are." He bites the hem of her t-shirt between his teeth and gently lifts it upwards, just above her belly button, and smiles down at her belly.

Tatrasiel covers her belly with her hands and shakes her head again. "Puri, no!"

"Oh, I'll get in there." He leans over, downwards, nudging her hands aside with his nose. "Puri _yes_!" She giggles harder when he manages to get through, pressing his lips to her lower belly, just under her belly button. "Oh, Puri _yes _a thousand times over."

"EIEIEIAAAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHHA HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" She squeals brightly when he blows a large raspberry into her belly, arching her back and squealing out when he does it again, pushing desperately at his head. "PUHUHUUHUHUURRIIIHIHIHIHIHIHI EEIEIIEIEAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA AHHAAHAHHAHAHHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHO!"

_"_Puri knows just how ticklish this belly is." He presses a kiss to his chosen spot. "_Especially _right here."

"EEIIEAIAIAIAHAHAHHAHAHAHHA AHAHHAHAHAHAHAH STOHOOHHOHOHOHOP! PURIIEIIEIEIEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHHA AHAHAHHAAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHOHO! AAHAHHAHAHEIEIEIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!"

"This is a bad spot, isn't it?"

"YEHEHEHEHES! PUHUHUHUHUHURRIIIEIEIEHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA YEHEHEHHES! PLEHEHEHHEHEHEEASE!"

He chuckles again, but pulls away from her belly, he stops his mean raspberries but wiggles his fingers in instead. "This whole belly is a bad spot, isn't it, Tatra?"

The young Elect nods feverishly. "Yehehehehehes! Puhuhuhuhurriiihihihihihihi!"

"But, not as bad as this one particular spot, is it?" The Power wiggles a single finger just below her belly button, and Tatra nods, shrieking with laughter. "Where's the other spot?" She shakes her head again, biting her lip, despite her giggles, and he smiles up at her as he pulls away from her belly, leaning up closer, up to her right shoulder. "It's up here, isn't it?" She giggles harder, scrunching her shoulder up, and he chuckles softly. "It must be, you're hiding it from me, why else would you hide it?" He pushes her head away gently, reaching in with a finger, he scratches at the side of her neck gently, lightly, and it drives her crazy. The younger angel squeaks bright, high pitched giggles pouring from her lips, as she pushes as much as she can against the fingers holding her head away. "It's right here, isn't it, this cute little neck right here?"

"Nohohhoheehehehehehhehehe! Puhuhuhuhuhurrihhihihihihihi! Ehehehehhehehehehe! Stohohohhoop! Ehehehhehehehhehehe!"

"Oh, yes, it is, I _know _it is, I was asking a rhetorical question." He leans in closer. "It's right here, right, here." He nuzzles into her neck and presses tiny little kisses over the sensitive skin, her giggles increase in pitch and quantity. "Nohohohohohoho! Eeehehhehehehhehehehe! Puhuhuhuhuurrihihihihihii! Nohhohohohohot thohohohose! Eehehehehhehehhehe ehehehehehehheehee plehehehhehehease!"

He chuckles against her neck. "Still doubting your place?"

"Nohohhohohoho! Stoohohohohop!"

"Should I go to the last spot?" He presses in another round of kisses and giggles explode from her. "Down to those toes?"

"Nohohohoho! Eeeehehehehhehehehhehehe plehehehheheease nohohohoo!"

"Feel better?"

"Eehehehehhehehhe! Yehehehehhes!"

"Good." He presses one last kiss to her neck and squeezes her sides, to get her to arch her back again, and curls his left arm around her waist, and he cradles the back of her head with his right hand as he flips them over. He rests back against the pillows on her bed and her chest heaves softly as she tries to catch her breath. "Because shouldn't question my decision, I wouldn't have made it if I had second thoughts, and I didn't, I know I chose well."

She giggles, curling her arms around him, pressing her cheek against his middle, above his belly, but under his chest, right there in the middle, the perfect spot, cushioned but not too much. "I love how squishy you are."

Puriel chuckles softly, rubbing the side of her head lightly. "Thanks, I'm glad you like it, Tatra."

"You're like a big squishy pillow." She pokes the fingers of her right hand into his belly, as though fluffy up a fluffy feathery pillow, giggling softly when he squeaks and tenses, snatching her fingers up. "Watch it, baby girl, or I'll flip us right back over and pick up where I left off." She giggles again and curls back around him. "That's what I thought."

"A big fluffy squishy pillow." Tatrasiel hugs around him tightly and settles back down. "I'm not moving, squishy pillow."

The Power chuckles again, scratching lightly at the side of her head. "I'll just have to stay the night then." She nods, smiling softly, letting her eyes close as she gets comfortable. "Do you like your room?"

"Can we repaint it?"

"Sure, we can." He tucks her short dark hair around her ear. "What color?"

"Like, a soft purple?"

"Sure, we'll go get some paint tomorrow."

Tatrasiel smiles again, nuzzling closer. "Thanks, Puri."


	279. Two Birds With One Stone

He grins down at the two under him, straddling the one's left thigh and the other's right thigh, he keeps them in place under him with ease. With as many kids as he has, he has to know how to get more then one person at a time, and he's had plenty of practice.

Abner shrieks under him when he dips his finger into his belly button and Gadreel shrieks when he digs his fingers into his left thigh.

"Oh, music to my ears, the sound of my two dearest baby brother's laughter." He closes his eyes, humming in content. "The most beautiful sound I've ever heard."

He turns to look when he feels something smack his hand, he knows who it is, Gadreel holds onto him, his fingers curled around his wrists, and that leaves only one other person, this one would most certainly smack him in an attempt to get him to stop.

Abner's eyes widen when he smiles down at him, it's a particular kind of smile, a smile that means torture is to come. "Oh, ladybug, do you want some of big brothers _undivided _attention?" He shakes his head when the Warden pulls away from the younger Sentry, turning to the older of the two of his baby brothers. First, he pats Gadreel on the belly. "You stay here, grasshopper." Gadreel giggles breathlessly, curling his arms around himself, giggling softly as the oldest of the three of them turns to his brother.

He shakes his head, his giggles picking up, and Thaddeus smiles down at him again. "Oh, ladybug, you could have just asked." He poses his fingers over either side of his belly, ready to dig in, but resting there to build anticipation. "I'd have been happy to oblige." Abner squeals when he finally digs his fingers in, wiggling them all over his belly, batting at his hands weakly. "Coochie coochie coo, ladybug. This is what you get for smacking me."

It's only in his favor, and their misfortune, that he's had so much practice in torturing others.

He looks over when he feels a tug at his sleeve, Gadreel's is still giggling, smiling up at him, his eyes absolutely shining. "You want more, grasshopper?" He smiles when the younger angel nods. "How can I say no to that?" He squeals brightly when he digs back into his thighs, throwing his head back, cackling with uproarious laughter. "Tickle, tickle, tickle, grasshopper."

The only reason Thaddeus stops is because Titus comes to his two charges rescue and he turns the tables around on their torturer.


	280. The Prisoners Returning

"Hello, Thaddy." He nods when the Warden holds up a finger, asking him for a moment, as he finishes filling something out before him, signs his name, and sets the parchment aside. He looks up to meet the Power's gaze and smiles, returning his smile in kind, his gaze travelling back to the one standing behind him, hiding just behind his shoulder. "Hello, Tus, what can I do for you today?"

Titus nods, turning slightly, gesturing to the one behind him. "I have a new guard for you."

"A new guard?"

"Mhmm," the Power gestures for the guard hiding behind his shoulder to step out, waving him forward, and the guard does as he's silently asked to do. "A new guard, a direct request, didn't even want to try out any other positions."

"Interesting, not many directly request to be one of my Prison guards, it's usually a last choice."

"That's what I thought," Titus turns back around, smiling at him again, as the guard behind him steps around. "But I have a feeling I know why he requested to be working under _you_."

Thaddeus hums softly, looking over to the guard as he steps into the light, and his eyes widen slightly, that's a face he most certainly recognizes. Those dark curls, familiar violet eyes, the freckles dusted over that nose. He knows this face.

He waves at him slightly. "Hey, Thaddy."

"_Asteraoth?"_ The Warden climbs to his feet, pushing his chair back as he rises, and steps out from behind his desk. "Is that you?"

"You said not to come back again." He rubs at the back of his neck. "Not as a prisoner."

"Right, right," Thaddeus opens his arms for him, crossing closer. "Come here, you."

Asteraoth smiles, stepping forward, stepping into those arms, letting them circle around him, holding him in close, curling around him tightly. He wraps his arms around the older angel, burying his face in his shoulder, he missed the Warden's hugs.

A hand cradles the back of his head gently, holding him close. "Look at how big you've gotten? You've grown so much since I've seen you last, when I last saw you, you were just a tiny little thing, always asking for hugs and riding on my back." He pokes him in the side experimentally, smiling when the guard edges away, giggling softly against his shoulder. "I see some things haven't changed, there's that at least, I can pick up where we left off, now that you're back."

"Thaddy, you were such a tickle monster."

Thaddeus chuckles softly, it rumbles under his ear, and the young guard giggles again when he wiggles the fingers of his right hand into his side lightly. "I'm _still _a tickle monster, mister, that hasn't changed in the slightest."

Asteraoth smiles again, nuzzling closer, his fingers curling tighter in the back of the Warden's tunic. "I missed you, Thaddy."

He feels the older angel press a kiss to the top of his head. "I missed you too, Aster." He pulls him back slightly, cradling his cheek with his hands, smiling down at him. "I'm glad to have you back." He presses a kiss to his forehead. "I wondered where you went after I released you."

Aster smiles up at him. "I wanted to come back. I wanted to be with you, again."

"Well," the Warden pulls him back in his arms. "You're stuck with me now. I'm not letting you go."

"Promise?"

"I swear."

…

He shrieks with laughter, tugging desperately on his arm held up above his head, the fingers of the Warden's right hand intertwined with his, and the index finger of his left digging into his armpit, he's trapped with his back against the wall, tugging fruitlessly at his arm, shrieking with laughter under the playful attack.

"Don't think I've forgotten about you, Damabiath." Thaddeus wiggles his finger around torturously, and the young guard howls with laughter, pressing back against the wall he's trapped against. "I remember all about you, Dama, and I remember all about these _armpits_."

"Aaaahahahahhahahahhahaaeieieieaiaiaiaaaahahahhahahahhaha Thahahahaddyyyy! Nohohohohoho! Eeieiieieehaiaiaiahahahahahahahahahah nohohohohohot thehehehhehehehere! Stohohohohohhop!"

He chuckles softly. "Remember all the _fun_ we had with these armpits. Oh, how we enjoyed ourselves, all the flutters and all the wiggles and all the berries, oh, the _berries _I'd blow on these armpits. And you'd just laugh, and laugh, and laugh. Squealing and cackling. Remember when you were being particularly mouthy and I just leaned over, starting with the right first, and blew berry after berry over this ticklish armpit, I made you cry with laughter, do you remember that?"

"Thahahahhahaddyyyy! Eeiieieieiaaiaiaiahahaahahahhahaha ahahahhahahahahhaha! Nohohohhohoho mohohohohohoore!"

"No more?" He adds another finger in and the young guard shrieks, squealing softly, bursting with laughter. "I'm just making up for lost time. You know, if I really wanted to, I could have one of my Elder guards _'escort' _you to the chamber, get you all prepared for me, laying strapped to that table without your shirt, these ticklish little armpits open for the taking, and I could do anything I wanted with these armpits, does that sound as nice to you as it sounds to me?"

"Nohohohohoho! Eiieieiieieiaiaiiaiaiaahahahahahhahaha ahahhahahahahahhaha! Nohohohohohot ahahahhaha prihihihihihihisoner ahahahahahhanymore! Thahahahhahadddyyyy! Eeeieiieieieieiaiaiaiaiaihahahahahahaha ahahahhahahahhaa nohohohohohot theheheheheere!"

"Oohhh, I'd start with berries, lots and lots of berries. All the berries. Until you were squealing with laughter like a little fledgling again." He finds a particularly sensitive spot just under his hollow and the guard squeals again. "May get some flutters in there. It may have to have some scrubs, I know exactly where the scrub brush is, get my feather all up in there too, and then, then we return to the berries. And that's only on the right armpit, that ticklish little left armpit would be next, you'd get the tickle torture of the ages in these little armpits, catching up for lost time, obviously. What do you think, does that sound like a game plan?"

The young guard shakes his head. "Nohohhohoho! Plehehehehheease! Nohohohohohoho!"

"I thought you'd like the idea." The Warden raises his hand, finally pulling away from the young angels armpit, there's no time for relief though, he watches with wide eyes the wings assigned Elder approaches from behind the Warden. Thaddeus looks over when they appear at his side. "Hello, take him to the chamber, get him all ready for me."

They nod, bending slightly, pulling the younger guard up over their shoulder. Damabiath pounds at their back, yelling and shouting, kicking his legs desperately, anything to keep away from the chamber, it was bad enough that the Warden could corner him out here, but him in there, prone and at his questionable mercy, anyone would fight against that if they knew what was coming, like he knew.

Thaddeus smiles, waving at him cheekily, as the Elder carries him down the hall and around the corner. They may not _technically _be his prisoners anymore, but once they became his guards, they returned to being his prisoner again, they all faced the same torture, no matter where they stood on the food chain.

…

"Hello, Thaddy, its good to see you again."

He looks up from the file he's reading, having just taken in two new intakes, he needed to know what there was to know about them, so that they would be safe during their stay here. "Hey, Tus, another one?"

The Power nods lightly, sharing a smile with him. "Another one." He gestures for the person behind him to step forward, as the Warden rises from his seat, stepping around his desk to meet whoever was waiting to be met. "I know you'll recognize them."

It's a female guard that steps forward, long flowing dark wavy locks, bright teal eyes shining up at him.

Thaddeus smiles down at her. "Welcome back, Galgaliel."

"Hi, Thaddy." She smiles up at him. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, butterfly, come give me a hug."

Galgaliel steps forward, away from her captain's side, and steps into the open arms of her new boss. She knew these arms, the way they cradled her gently, the gentle hand that rubbed down the back of her head. She smiles, burrowing down against his shoulder, clutching at the back of his tunic, closing her eyes comfortably, she was back in familiar surroundings, back to her old stomping grounds, she knew this place like she knew the back of her hand. It had been her home for a long while, and the Warden her temporary guardian, it was like she was coming home after a long way away.

"You've grown some," he squeezes her lightly. "But you're still tiny."

"You're just really tall."

"I may be pretty tall, yes, but you're rather small too."

She giggles lightly. "I _am _small."

"Yes, you are." He presses a kiss to the top of her head. "But it's an endearing quality."

…

"Hey, Thaddy."

He looks up for a moment, smiling at the young guard standing in the doorway to his office, looking as disheveled as they usually did, as though they had just rolled out of bed upon realizing they were late. "You're late, Kalaziel."

"I am not." He steps into his office, closing the door behind him, and finds himself a seat across from him on the other side of his desk. "I'm just not…Early."

"Which means you're late, don't play this game with me mister, I know you." He sets his writing utensil down and crosses his hands over his desk before him. "What kept you, it isn't like you to be late, it never was."

Kalaziel rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "I…I didn't sleep well last night."

"Oh, why not, what happened Kala?"

He looks down to his lap for a moment. "I had a few nightmares."

"Nightmares?" There's a hint of concern in his tone and he looks back up to meet the Warden's eyes. "About what?"

The young guard shrugs. "I don't know, really, I can't remember, it was just over silly stuff, I guess, which is probably why I don't remember."

"There is no such thing as a silly nightmare, they are all serious, especially when it interferes with sleep." He smiles at him kindly. "If you do happen to find you remember them, I'm always here to talk and listen, in the meantime, you should get some sleep." Thaddeus gestures to the empty cot against the far wall. "You go ahead, kick off those boots and curl up, sleep is important for growing angels."

Kalaziel smiles at him, nodding slightly, and leans over to unties his boots while he's sitting there and, in the position, to do so. He pulls them off and pulls them up to rest in his lap. "You're the best, Thaddy."

Thaddeus smiles at him. "You are too, Kala, sleep well. I'm here if you need me."

The young guard nods, standing from his chair, he crosses out from around it and makes his way over to the cot. Setting his boots down at the edge, just under the edge of the cot, he pulls the blankets down and sits on the side, turning himself around to lay against the pillow. "I love you, Thaddy."

"I love you too, Kala."

…

"Hi, Shamsiel."

The young guard looks up from the book he was reading, sitting just outside Theo's cell, and smiles up at him as he approaches. "Hi, Thaddy."

The Warden looks in on the prisoner as he comes to stand besides his guard, Theo regards him silently and averts his eyes, Theo wasn't so tough now that the Warden had returned to his senses. He'd run the place temporarily, but they all knew who the true Warden was, and it was never him. Thaddeus hums in approval and looks back down to the guard, he threads his fingers through the young man's curls and tilts his head back, Shamsiel smiles up at him as their eyes meet. "What are you reading now?"

"Oh!" He closes his book and raises it. "It's a thriller story. Keeps me on the edge of my seat. Just as I'm sure I know who the culprit is, something changes, a plot twist occurs, and I'm right back to where I started! It's very good!"

"It sounds very interesting, I've just finished my own book, perhaps I'll borrow it from you once you've finished it."

"You should, I think you'd like it!"

"I will," he strokes his curls back. "Are you staying tonight?"

Shamsiel blushes lightly, but nods, smiling up at him hopefully. "If it's okay?" He rubs at his nose and averts his eyes for a moment before returning his gaze upwards. "I miss cuddling up with you."

"I'm always welcome to cuddles." Thaddeus smiles down at him. "You come on up after your shift ends, I'll have supper waiting, and then we'll cuddle up together for the night."

The guard beams happily. "Okay, Thaddy!"

…

"Well, look at who we have here." Thaddeus smiles as he looks down at the new young guard, his arms crossed loosely, eyeing the grown angel before him, the last time he'd seen him, he'd been a small youngling getting into mischief even from within the confines of his prison cell, and now he was a guard, he wanted to be one of _his_ guards. "If it isn't the one who gave me all these gray hairs."

He smiles, reaching up to touch the braid hanging over the Warden's shoulder. "It suits you though, so you're welcome."

The Warden narrows his eyes slightly. "I wasn't thanking you."

"Well, you're welcome, anyway."

He chuckles softly and opens his arms. "Get over here, Xathanael, and give me a proper greeting."

Xantaneal smiles, stepping forward, folding himself in those familiar arms, curling his arms around the older angel in turn. "I missed you, Thaddy."

"I missed you too, Xathan, I missed holding you." He feels a hand snake around and he giggles softly when a finger pokes into the side of his belly. "I missed this belly too."

"Thaddy, nohohoho!" He steps away even though he's trapped in the older angel's arms. "Nohoho!"

"Oh, I should, for old times sake."

…

"Abasdarhon, I want you to explain to me why I'm so upset right now."

The guard looks down to their feet, scuffing their boot over the floor, clutching at the hem of his tunic, just as he had always done when he got into trouble. "I…Ummm…I got into a fight with a prisoner."

"Mhmm, you want to tell me why?"

He licks his lips lightly. "Ummm…..they….ummmm."

"I'm listening."

"Okay." He nods firmly, looking up to meet the Warden's eyes. "They were talking bad about you, Thaddy. They were saying mean things about you that weren't true, and I couldn't stand it!" He clenches his fingers into fists. "So I punched them to get them to shut up!"

"Abas," Thaddeus sighs deeply, rubbing at his forehead with the fingers of his right hand, and he shakes his head. "I understand. I do. But their words don't hurt me. They'll be mad for the first couple of days, we'll have our first session, and then things will change." He smiles at the guard lightly. "Remember your first days as my prisoner, you said some rather nasty things about me the first couple of days too, then we had our first session together, and after that you couldn't help but start giggling every time you saw me."

Abasdarhon nods lightly, he remembers that, he'd been a right jerk to the man when they'd first met, mouthing off and cursing at him whenever they crossed paths, it hadn't seemed to phase him, which made him even worse, and then they'd had their first session. Thaddy could bring anyone around, even the most stubborn of them, it was a talent he possessed with ease. "I remember."

"So, with that in mind, I do appreciate you sticking up for my honor, but's its unneeded. I know where I stand, I don't expect any new comers to be happy with their being here, but I have ways of dealing with them, I don't need you to deal with them for me."

The young guard bites his lip and nods again, he knows that too, but he couldn't help it. "I know, Thaddy, but I just got so angry, the things they were calling you. It wasn't your fault, what happened here, it wasn't, and they were talking about that and saying you deserved it and I just couldn't…I just couldn't stand by and do _nothing_! You weren't you, and it wasn't your fault, they didn't know you, they haven't even really met you yet, and they were saying such cruel things about you, and—"

"Hey, hey, hey," he didn't realize the man had stood from his seat during his rant, he didn't realize it until his fingers were curling around his wrists, and he looks up at the Warden with cloudy eyes, he didn't realize tears were involved until this very moment. "You're alright, no need to get so worked up." He wipes away the tears with gentle thumbs, and pulls him in close, curling him in his arms. "I'm upset, but that doesn't change how much I love you, I'd have reacted just the same if someone had said those things about someone I loved too, if I were in your shoes, it doesn't make it right, what you did, but I understand it."

"I'm really sorry, Thaddy." Abas clutches at the back of his tunic, holding on tight, sniffling softly as he came down from his overcome state. "I didn't mean to. I was just so angry."

"I know, Abas, I know." Fingers stroke through the curls on the back of his head. "But you know better then to let your temper get the best of you. If it happens again, I'll be forced to reprimand you."

He nods lightly. "You won't this time?"

"No, little guy, I'll let it go this time."

…

He'd thought they were passed these sorts of things, the angel wasn't a youngling anymore, he was a guard now, and he'd thought they'd have learned to take better care of themselves. But here they were, him carrying the young guard upstairs, them fast asleep against his shoulder, they'd talk about this when the young guard woke up.

"Bazazath, I'd say you were getting too heavy for this, but that would be a lie." He frowns as he lifts him up just a bit higher. "You're as light as a feather, I'm going to make you supper tonight, you need some meat on those bones."

The young guard doesn't even stir, he mumbles in his sleep lightly and nuzzles down against his shoulder, and Thaddeus smiles at the feeling, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. He elbows the door open, and steps into his room, crossing the threshold over to the bed, and leans over, setting the sleeping guard down to rest. Crossing to the foot of the bed, he unties the guards boots and tugs them off, setting them down to rest on the floor at the foot of the bed, and tucks the blankets up around him.

"Sleep well, Baza." The Warden smooths his curls back, smiling down at him. "I'll wake you up for supper."

…

"Gazardiel, is that you?" He smiles as he crosses his office quickly, curling his fingers under her arms, and lifts her off her feet. She's so small, she hadn't grown maybe but an inch or two, and she giggles as she curls her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, Thaddy," she leans in to kiss his nose lightly. "Will you take me back?"

"Most definitely, I'll take you back, you told me you wanted to be a guard, but I didn't think you'd want to be a Prison guard, Gaza."

She nods. "I wanted to be with you again, Thaddy, you're my home."

He smiles up at her, leaning in to kiss her nose in turn, and she smiles back down at him. "I'm your home?"

Gazardiel nods lightly. "I grew up with you."

Thaddeus chuckles softly, kissing her on the nose again. "And, it was my pleasure in helping to raise you."

…

"Well, if it isn't little miss Harahel." He sets his hand on her head and tilts her head back, she smiles up at him brightly, and Titus chuckles beside them, watching these reunions was always amusing and heartwarming, Thaddeus never forgot a face and a name, never forgot anything, not the things he thought to be most important, and they were all sure he hadn't the slightest idea just how much he meant to them, just how important he was to them. "You want to be one of my guards?"

She nods lightly. "If you'll have me."

The Warden smiles lightly. "Well, I'm sure I can find you a place, you're tiny, you won't take up too much space."

"I'm not _that_ small!"

"Who are you kidding, you're teeny tiny."

"You're just a giant, everyone looks small to you."

He chuckles softly. "You're right, but standing this tall, it's hard not to see everyone else as little itty bitty ants."

Harahel smacks him in the belly lightly. "I'm not _that _small, Thaddy!"

"Careful there," he reaches out to poke her in the belly in return and she giggles softly. "I remember all about this belly."

…

She's trapped back against the wall, shrieking with soft laughter, as the Warden's fingers danced up and down her sides. She pushes at him weakly, pressing back against the wall even more, and leans from one side to the other, trying to evade his fingers, but they follow no matter where she goes.

"Hi, Nahaliel."

"Thahahahahhaadddyyyyy! Stohhohohohohop! Eeieieiieeaiiaiaiiahahahahahahahahha! Aahahahahahahaha!"

"You told me you weren't ticklish anymore." He ignores her and continues his assault without falter. "You lied to me." He finds a particular bad spot and pinches in slightly. "I can't believe you'd lie to me, Naha, about something so important."

"I'm sohohohhohohorry! Eieiieeiieaiaiiaaihahahahahhaha Thahahahhaddyyy! I'm sohohhohhohohhorryyy! Aahhahahahhahahaha plehehehehease!"

"How sorry are you?"

She pushes against his hands desperately. "Veheheheheerryyy! Veehehehehehheerryyy sohohhohhohohohorry!"

"I don't know if I forgive you yet."

…

"Come on, Pesagniyah." He guides the sleepy guard down the hall by the shoulders. "You've always had a hard time sleeping, even when you were young."

The young guard yawns deeply. "I'm sorry, Thaddy."

"It's alright, Pesa." He rubs at his shoulders lightly, guiding him up the stairs towards his quarters, holding him steady. "I'm not upset. We'll get you to bed and make sure you get the right amount of sleep."

"Will you lay down with me?"

"Who else is going to make sure you get some sleep?"

Pesagniyah smiles. "You're the best, Thaddy."

…

"Who do I have here?" Titus was absent today, he was busy dealing with something that had arisen unexpectedly, so it was just them. "Is this my little Sabrathan?"

He giggles lightly. "Thaddy, I'm not little anymore."

"Compared to me, you're tiny, can I still lift you up?" Thaddeus curls his fingers under his arms and lifts him off his feet, Sabrathan giggles again and curls his legs around his waist, reaching up to curl his arms around his neck. "Oh, look at that, still small enough for me to lift you off your feet."

Sabra smiles at him. "I'm happy you haven't _really _changed, Thaddy."

"Hey, me change?" He shakes his head playfully. "Never. I'll always be just the same way."

"Good, I love you this way, I don't want you to change."

…

"Aww, Sraosha, are you having a bad day?"

He scoots back in his chair as the door to his office opens, closes, and someone tip toes across the floor quietly, and a small, lithe person slides into his lap, hugging close like a baby koala, and he leans back in his chair, curling his right arm around her.

The little guard sniffles, and she nods lightly. "Yea, it's been a bad day."

"Well, cuddle in close then, baby koala."

"I will, Thaddy, thanks for being you, you're the best."

He rubs at her back soothingly. "You're not too bad yourself."

…

"Get the belt, Yabbashael."

"No, Thaddy, please not the belt, please, I'm sorry!"

"Now, Yabbashael."

The young guard nods at the firm tone, scurrying across the office for the closet door, he knows where it's at, he knows where Thaddeus keeps his belt, the belt designated for reprimanding, it's lashed a number of bare bottoms in it's time. He pulls the door open, snags the belt off the hook, and darts back to the Warden's side. Thaddeus holds his hand out expectantly, and he slowly lifts his hand to set the dreaded belt down over the Warden's palm, he curls his fingers around it and turns, pointing to the desk. "Bare yourself and over the edge."

"But, Thaddy—"

"Now, Yabbashael."

He whines, but nods, tugging his trousers down, he leans over the edge of the desk.

The lashes are quick and precise, and he sobs out his apologies, wailing softly into his hands. Thaddeus leans around him, his hand on his back, and sets the belt to rest on his desk, then he stands back up, and helps guide him around. "Come here, Yabba, come to Thaddy."

The young guard turns quickly, jumping around, and throws himself at the Warden, wailing softly into his shoulder. He rubs his large hand over his back soothingly. "You're alright, Yabba, it's alright. All forgiven. It'll be talked about no more."

"I'm really sorry, Thaddy! I'm really sorry!"

"I know, Yabba." He presses a kiss to the side of his head. "It's alright." Thaddeus guides him forward, towards the cot along the other wall. "You're going to take a nap now, and then we'll have some supper."

Yabbashael sniffles miserably. "Okay, Thaddy."

…

"You just close those eyes." He kneels beside the cot in his office, rubbing his fingers through short brown hair, smiling down to the young guard kindly. "Close those eyes Yerachmiel."

Her eyes flutter softly, and she yawns, nodding back against the pillow. "I'm sleepy, Thaddy."

"I know you are, Yera." Thaddeus tucks the blankets up under her chin. "Tus told me you haven't been sleeping well." She smiles up at him when he strokes a finger over her cheek. "Well, you can sleep here, and I'll be right here with you too. Right over at my desk. Keeping an eye on you."

"The blankets smell like you." Yerachmiel yawns again. "It makes me feel safe."

"You're well protected with me here." He strokes her bangs back and leans in to kiss her on the forehead. "You get some sleep; I'll move you upstairs after I finish up for the day."

"I can stay the night?"

"You most certainly can, Yera."

…

"You lost your keys?" He stares at the young guard with amused eyes. "How on earth did you lose your keys, Zaazenach?"

The young guard rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "I…Umm….Have to clean my room."

"Uhuh, I remember how messy you can be just fine, I'll give you spare keys for the day but you better have yours tomorrow mister."

Zaaz smiles, taking the keys that are held out to him. "Thanks, Thaddy."

"You're welcome, now give me a hug, and go about your duties."

…


	281. Reliving An Adorable History

"Tus, I hate to do this, again, but there's something you have to see."

He sighs, closing his book, he remembers what awaited him last time someone had said that. "Who is it this time?"

Nisroc smiles at him lightly, gesturing for him to follow, and he does, setting his book aside on the bedside table, and he turns out of his bed, planting his feet on the floor, and stands. Crossing the room, he follows his older brother out of his room and down the hall, towards the kitchen, he can hear a voice talking softly, a small softer voice responds, and he tilts his head, it's familiar but he can't place from where.

The crest the end of the hall, and he steps out into the kitchen, his eyes widening at the sight that awaits him. A very familiar little fledgling, chubby little belly, bouncing little curls, perched on one of the counters licking a spoon of chocolate frosting.

"Peli?"

The fledgling turns to look at him, his face covered in chocolate icing, he'd been helping Puriel bake cupcakes, and his face lights up. "Tussy!"

"Nis, big brother, why is it always _my _angels who get caught up the crossfire?"

The fledgling's eyes sadden slightly. "Tussy not happy to see Peli?" His lower lip, covered in chocolate icing, pops out in a pout. It's adorable, or he's a big softie, maybe it's a bit of both, but he melts at the sight of such a cute little pout, and he steps forward, his hands raised, smiling brightly, he loves his guards with all his heart, and the ones that get turned back into fledglings doubly so. "Oh, you put that little lip away, you know Tussy is happy to see you." Peliel lowers his spoon and giggles when the Power lifts him up, fingers curled around his ribs, and lifts him up above his head. "Look at you, all covered in chocolate icing, how did you get it on your belly, or all places."

"Is yummy!"

"It is?" He leans closer. "Let me have a taste." And licks a bit of the icing up off his adorably chubby little belly. Peliel shrieks with laughter when he does it again, and he hums, nodding his head. "You're right, it is yummy, do you like Puri's treats?"

"All yummy!"

"Hey, hey, hey," he yelps when a finger pokes him in the side, and pulls his fledgling closer, hopping away from his attacker. "No abusing my little helper."

"Is your little helper still needed, I want to get him cleaned up," he smiles down at the fledgling, Peliel smiles up at him, smacking their lips together when his captain puckers his up, wanting a kiss. "He's going to get cranky that he's all sticky once he runs out of icing to eat."

Puriel nods, pulling a sheet of cupcakes out of the oven, setting them to cool on the wooden counter. "We're done, I'll bring him a cupcake when they're cooled and iced."

Titus nods in appreciation, taking the spoon from the fledgling, he holds up for him to take the final bit of icing, and Peliel smiles, leaning forward to lick it up happily. "Let's go take a bath, you little chocolate monster."

"Toys?"

"Well, of course," he licks the chocolate off the tip of the fledglings nose. "What kind of bath would it be if there were no toys?"

"Yay!" The chocolate covered fledgling claps his hands excitedly. Titus chuckles, bouncing him on his arm lightly, and turns back towards the hall. "Thanks guys."

…

He wakes the next morning to a warm weight over his chest, and he blinks his eyes open, rubbing the sleep away, and smiles down at the fledgling stretched out over his chest, sleeping soundly, topless as he ever was when sleepy time came around. The Power rubs his hand down the boy's bare back, scratching softly, and the fledgling mumbles, rubbing his cheek over his chest. "Time to wake up, little Pelican."

Peliel rubs his cheek over his chest again. "Mmmm no, Tussy, still sleepin'."

"I know you're still sleepin, but it's time to wake up, others are waiting on us."

The fledgling yawns widely, pushing himself up, rubbing at his eyes with his little fists, then he leans over, resting his hands over the Power's chest, smiling down at him. "Cakes?"

Titus smiles up at him. "You want to have pancakes for breakfast?"

He licks his lips and nods. "Cakes!"

"Well, alright, we can make that happen." He sits up, and the fledgling tumbles down into his lap, giggling up a storm. "We have to get up though, if we're going to have pancakes."

"I up! I up!" Peliel climbs to his feet, hopping on the bed. "I up, Tussy!"

The Power turns out of bed, climbing to his feet, and scoops the fledgling up, lifting him up to rest on his shoulders. "Alright, let's go have some breakfast."

Peliel chatters as they make their way out of their room, turn down the hall, and come out into the kitchen. The others are all outside doing their duties on the training field, they didn't have a fledgling to be looking after, not that he minded, he loved taking care of them when they were fledglings the first time around, being able to do it again made it double as fun. He lifts the fledgling up off his shoulders and sets him to sit on the counter. Reaching above his head, he passes him a large bowl, the fledgling situates the bowl between his legs, and he reaches back up for the batter mix.

He sits the box of mix on the counter, he reaches back up for a measuring cup, and looks down at the fledgling. "Are you going to help me?"

The fledgling nods happily. "I stir!"

"Alright, that sounds like a plan," the guards captain measures out the right amount of mix, measures out a cup of water, and pours some cinnamon into the bowl for extra taste. "Alright, mix it all up." Peliel nods, stirring their batter up into a nice thick mixture, Titus dips his finger in to test it, licking the batter off, he hums, nodding. "You did great."

"I good helper!"

"You're a great helper." He leans in, kissing the fledgling on the cheek, taking the bowl from him. "Now, let's heat up a skillet and we'll cook us up some pancakes."

"Yay!"

He stokes the coals in the wood burning stove, firing them up, and sets a pan down on one of the burners. He pours a bit of oil in the pan, so the cakes don't stick to the bottom of the pan, and measures out a quarter cup of their pancake batter and pours it into the pan. Reaching around the fledgling, he picks a spatula out of the utensil holder behind him, rubs the fledglings head with his other hand, and turns back to the pan, flipping the pancake as it begins to bubble. He smiles when Peliel begins to hum happily, kicking his feet back and forth softly, watching him flip their pancakes.

Titus smiles over at him. "Looking yummy?"

"Big yummy!"

He chuckles, flipping five pancakes in total, two for Peliel and three for him. He leaves the fledgling there while he carries the late of hotcakes and their two plates over to the table, they others must have had hotcakes too, the syrup and jam is already out. "Milk, little Pelican?"

"Milk!"

"Okie dokie." He opens the icebox and grabs the jug of milk, reaches above the fledglings head for a glass and sippy cup, and with his free hand he scoops up the fledgling. "Let's go enjoy our masterpiece."

"Yay!" Peliel claps his hands. "Cakes!"

The Power sets the fledgling down in the seat next to him, and takes up the seat beside him, first he pours them their drinks, then he serves their pancakes. "Okay, jam or syrup?"

"S'rup!"

"Alrighty." He cuts up the fledglings pancakes first, pours a good amount of sticky syrup over them, and hands him his fork. "Here you are."

…

"Alrighty, Tussy has some very important things he has to do today, so you're going to stay with Saba until I'm done, okay?"

Peliel raises his arms so he can slip the fledglings tunic on. "Love Saba!"

Titus smiles at him, poking him in the belly playfully. "Saba loves you too, very much."

The fledgling pats his little chubby belly. "Tummy!"

He chuckles softly, scooping the toddler angel up, cradling him in his arms. "Saba loves that tummy a whole lot too."

"Tickles!"

The Power turns, carrying the fledgling from him room, wiggling his fingers in the fledglings belly playfully. Peliel shrieks with laughter, batting at his hand weakly, kicking his legs lightly. "Oh, I know Saba is going to give this belly some tickles." He carries the fledgling from his room and down the hall, through the Lounge, and down the stairs to the guards rooms. Stopping at the door across the hall from Sorath's, he knocks lightly, waiting for the occupant within to grant them entrance.

When he hears them call out to them, he reaches out, turning the handle and pushing the door open. "Good morning, Saba."

The oldest Prison guard smiles at him, having just finished tying his left boot up, and stands from the edge of his bed, crossing over to meet them. Peliel squeals softly in excitement, reaching out for the older guard, flexing his fingers demandingly. "Saba! Saba!"

"Good morning, Tus." Sabaoth curls his fingers around the fledglings middle and lifts him out of his captain's arms, raising him up above his head, the little tunic rides up slightly, exposing a sliver of that adorable chubby belly, and he presses a few playful kisses over the exposed skin. "Good morning, my darling baby Pelican."

"Saba, missed you!" The fledgling giggle happily, throwing his arms around the older angel's head, he hugs him tightly. "Play with Peli?"

"Can I play with your belly?"

"Saba tickles!"

"Oh, I'm sure I'll share some tickles with you."

Titus smiles at them, Peliel truly adores Sabaoth with all his heart, and he shakes his head fondly. "Alright, I have to go," he leans in close to the fledgling, puckering his lips up slightly. "Give Tussy a kiss." Peliel giggles, kissing him on the lips lightly, and curls one of his arms around his neck too. "Bye bye Tussy!"

Sabaoth sees the way his lower lips pouts outwards when Titus makes his leave, and he's quick in distracting the fledgling from his guardians absence, wiggling his fingers over his belly, Peliel shrieks with laughter and turns back around, smiling up at him as he catches his fingers. "Alrighty, I packed us some toys, Tussy gave me your favorite blanket earlier this morning before you woke up for when it's nap time, are we forgetting anything?"

The fledgling taps on his lips as though he's thinking it over. "Nope!"

"Alrighty then, I got our pack," he kisses the fledgling on the cheek lightly. "Let's head on out."

Peliel lays his head down on his older brothers shoulders as they turn out of the older guards room and make their way down the hall. No one points or anything as they walk across the training field towards the exit, the squadrons just starting to fall in for a hard day of vigorous training, and the motion of walking lulls him in a peaceful like state, like one is right before they fall asleep. Sabaoth carries him up the stairs towards the Prison and he sighs softly, sitting up, patting him on the cheek to get his attention. "Saba, I still sleepy." The excitement has seemingly warn off. He smiles at the little fledgling. "You can go sleep on the cot in Thaddy's office, he'll stay with you until you wake up, and then he'll bring you back to me."

The fledgling nods. "Okay, Saba."

He nods, carrying the fledgling down the hall towards the Warden's office, the doors cracked so he knows they're allowed in, and he pushes the door open. Thaddeus looks up from the papers he'd been working on and tilts his head. "Who's this little guy?"

Sabaoth smiles at him, looking down to the fledgling on his arm. "It's Peliel."

"Peliel?" Thaddeus raises an eyebrow. "But, he's not a fle—"

"He was hit by a spell."

"Ah," the Warden nods, as though that explained everything, and perhaps it did. "I see."

Sabaoth nods. "He's still sleepy, is it alright if he sleeps on the cot?"

He nods, nodding towards the made-up cot. "Sure, go ahead and tuck him in."

The guard nods to him in appreciation, setting their pack down first, he bends over, cradling the fledgling carefully as he sets him down to rest on the cot. He pulls the blankets up over him, and then reaches for his favorite blanket, shakes that out, and lays it over him too. Peliel coos softly, smiling up at him sleepily, and he returns the smile, brushing his curls back, he leans in to kiss him on the cheek lightly. "You sleep well, Thaddy's right there if you need anything, okay?"

He nods lightly, yawning a big yawn. "Okay, Saba."


	282. A Taste Of His Own Medicine

"Wait! Nis! No! Let's talk about this!"

"Oh, there's nothing to talk about." The Captain pats him on the thigh as he carries the Warden down the hall towards the chamber, a few guards snicker as they pass by, Sabaoth definitely snorts. The Warden struggles, squirming around, trying to find a weakness in his hold and exploit it to gain his freedom, but he doesn't manage it, Nisroc merely readjusts his grip and continues on his way. "I think the tickle monster needs a taste of his own medicine."

"I don't think he does!"

"Oh, I know he doesn't think he does, but that's why he was never asked."

Nisroc reaches out with his free hand for the door handle, and pushes the massive door open, stepping them into the chamber. He leaves the door open, he wants them all to hear as their Warden gets his own, he's made it easier on himself, this mission had started upstairs, where he managed to wrestle him out of his boots. So it's easier for him to strap his ankles in when he pulls him down to lay on the table. Thaddeus struggles against him fumbling around his hands in an attempt to pull the straps free, and he catches his left hand, tugging it up over his head as he walks around the edge of the table, securing it in the left strap, and then reaches for the right, to do much of the same.

The younger angel struggles against his binds, tugging and yanking, but they'd don't give, they never do. "Nis, please, let's think this through." He looks over when he notices movement in the doorway. Sabaoth smirks at him. "Nis, at least close the door!"

"Oh, hello, Saba, what brings you here?"

"I wanted to watch the tormentor get his own."

"Of course, of course, come in, make yourself comfortable."

Sabaoth steps away from the doorway, crossing down to the table at his feet, and hops up to sit on the edge of the table, leaning back on his hands. "Thanks, Nis."

The Power nods at him, turning to lean over the angel strapped down to the table, and he smiles at him kindly. "Are you ready, tickle monster?"

"Nis, come on, you don't want to do this."

"Oh, but I do." He curls his fingers in the bottom hem of the young Warden's tunic, pulling it up over his face. "I've cleared my entire afternoon for this." He drags his finger down over his armpit, down his side, and down to rest over his hip. "I get to see how it feels to have someone at my complete mercy, similar to how you do, and it just so happens to be one of my favorite victims."

Thaddeus shakes his head, trying to dislodge his tunic from over his eyes, curling his fingers into fists. "Nis? Nis, where'd you go?" He chuckles softly to himself, watching the Warden stew in the anticipation, his head jerks from one side to the other, trying to make out any sort of form of the Power, but the lights too dim to make out a shadow. "Nis, Nis, where are you? Come oooonnnnn!" He whines pitifully. "This isn't faaaiiirrrr!"

Nisroc looks over when Sabaoth snorts, and winks at the guard, raising his hand, he wiggles his fingers slowly, hovering just above his bare belly. Thaddeus jerks around again, as though feeling the presence of his hand, and jerks against his binds. "Nis! Nis is that you! Don't! Nis!" He stiffens when fingers press over his belly, like a claw, all around his belly button. "Nis don't! No! You don't want to do this!" The fingers dig in and he shrieks, jumping in surprise, despite knowing they were there. "Nohohohhohoho! Ahahahahhahahahhaa noohohohohohohoo ahahahahahahahhahahhaah Nihhihihihihihihihis!" He looks back over to the guard and gestures to the Warden with a jerk of his head, Sabaoth smirks and nods, kicking his legs slightly. "It's not Nis."

"Sahahahhaabbaaahahahahahaha? Stohohohohohop! Nohohohohhoo ahahahahahahhahaha Sahahhahahabbbaahhahahahahha!" The fingers pull away suddenly, and he heaves for a breath, shaking his head again. "Sahahahaba? Saba? Where did Nis go? Is he still here? Where is he?"

"Why should I tell you?" Sabaoth leans forward even though the older angel can't see him. "You torture me all the time."

"Yohour way too sensitive about that! I get the others too, not just you! Tell me! Tell me, is he still here? Where is he? Saba!"

"Why don't you tell me?"

Nisroc puffs his cheeks up silently, and rushes down, burying his face in the Warden's prone belly. Thaddeus shrieks again, though he still has no idea who it could be, Sabaoth had never done that before, they've had their share of fights and wrestling matches that always end in this manner, but it's usually his face buried in the others belly, not the other way around. The beard was a giveaway, it should have been, but both Nisroc and Sabaoth had beards.

"Do you know where he is?"

_No_. "EEIEIIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAA NOHOHOHOHOHOHO EIEIIEAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHO! AAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA I FOHOHHOHOHOHOUND HIHIHIHIHIIM EEIEIIAIAIAIAIAIAHAHHAHHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHHAAEIEIEIAIAIAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA! NIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIS NOHHOHOHOHOHOT EIEIEIIAIAAAHHAHAHAHAAHAHHHAHAH NOHOHHOHHOHOT THOHOHOHOHOHOSE EEIEIIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA!" _He knows exactly where he is. _

Sabaoth laughs softly as his squeals echo around them, he looks over to see others gathering in the door way, it's not often they get to see their Warden in this position. Usually its them laying there and him standing above them.

Nisroc chuckles as he pulls back, wiggling his fingers over the belly he's abusing, digging in on both sides, all ten fingers, leaving the mighty Warden lost in his uproarious laughter. "You found me, Tadpole."

"Nihihihihihis! Plehehehehhehease ahahahahhahahah nohohohohohoho! Aahahahahahha ahahahahahahahaa! Stohohoohohohohop aahahahhahahahahaa!"

"You're attracting a crowd, Thaddy, they all want to see their torturer get a taste of his own medicine."

"Nihihihihihis ahahahahhaha aahahahahahhahaaha! Stohohohohohop!"

He jumps up to his armpits, fluttering his fingers over both sides, and the young Warden squeals softly, jumping under him. "You can give it, but you sure can't take it, what if I let them have a piece of you, huh, let them have their revenge?"

"Nohhohhohohohohohoho! Plehehehehheheease!"

"Qasp wants a go!" _Oh, he knew that voice, he knew it very well, they'd both pay for this. Oh, how'd they pay for this. _"Can he have a go!"

"Of course, nieto." He hears the faint sounds of a happy bark, because of course he'd be in his hound form, his own protégé turning against him. It's kind of poetic. "Come over here, Qasp."

The hands pull away from his armpits and he gulps in breath after breath. "Don't you dare! Qaspiel, don't you dare!"

Nisroc chuckles softly, bending over to lift up the puppy, setting him down between his Warden's legs. Qaspiel barks excitedly, bounding forward, and licks at the Warden's belly feverously. Thaddeus shrieks softly, squirming from side to side as the puppy had his time with his belly, rubbing his nose into his belly button. "Aahahahhahahahahhaa Qahahahhahahahhahaspiehehehheel! Stohohhhohohhohohop ahahahhahahahhaa hahahahahahahahah stohhohohohhhohohohoop! Plehehehehehheehaahhahahahease! Nohohohohot thhehehehehehehheere!"

"Papi, can I have a turn too?"

"Sure you can, nieto." Qaspiel bounds backwards, sitting between the Warden's feet, as the Power lifts his boy up onto the table. "You can most certainly have a turn."

"Zoph! Zohohoph! Don't you dare, young man! Dohohon't you dahahare! I'll gehet you for this! I'll get you!"

"Worth it." He shrieks again when fingers dig into his armpits, it's his favorite place to go for when he gets the boy, and it makes sense that he'd go there. "So worth it."

"Nohohohohho! Zoohohhohohohohophyyyyy nohohohohohoho ahahahhahahahaha ahahahahhahahahhahaa! Nohohhohot theheheheheheereeee! Aaahahahahhahaha ahahahahhahahaaha! Plehehehehhease! Ahahahahhaha ahahahahhahahaaha Zohohhohohhophy!"

"How does that feel, huh?"

"Zohohohohhohohoph! Pleheheheheheease! Aahahahahhahahahahhaa! Aahahahanythhihihihing! I'll gihihihihive youhuhuhuhuhu aahahhahahhaanything!"

Zophiel smiles to himself. "Can I have extra dessert?"

"Ahahahahahaha yehehehehhes! Yehehehehhes yohohohou cahahahahan!"

"Yay!" He pulls away, leaning over to press a kiss to the Warden's cheek, over his tunic, he still feels it from underneath. "Thanks papa."

"Yohohohour welcome, bahahaby boy."

Nisroc lifts the boy off the table first, his puppy following him, and they both run off, happy to have had their part, and with the promise of extra dessert. It was a good day.

"I want a part in this."

"Rohog!"

"Me too."

"Mehehendiii!"

"Count me in!"

"Tzahahahad! Nohoho! Guhuhuys!"


	283. Babysitting Baby Brother

"Thaddy, can I ask a favor of you?" He looks up at the entrance of the other, his eyebrows scrunching together at the sight of the fledgling balanced on their arm, the fledgling smiles at him, waving excitedly, reaching out demandingly, flexing their fingers in the demand to be picked up. This fledgling was very familiar. "Can you watch over your baby brother for today?"

"Is that…..Is that _Saba_?"

The fledgling giggles at him, flexing his fingers again. "Taddy! Taddy! Up!"

Nisroc chuckles softly. "He's been asking for you all morning."

Thaddeus climbs to his feet, pushing his chair back, as he steps around from behind his desk, holding his hands out for the fledgling. "Come here, baby bunny." Sabaoth giggles again as he's lifted out of the Power's arms and up above the Warden's head, clapping his hands against his cheeks lightly, little fingers tugging at his beard gently. "Whiskers!"

"You love my whiskers, don't you?"

He nods happily. "Tickles!"

"You know my whiskers tickle, don't you?" He presses a kiss to the chubby little belly exposed to him at the riding up of his small tunic, and the fledgling squeals softly, tugging at his hair softly. "You know that very well."

"Taddy! No! Aahahahhahahahaha!"

He relents, for the moment, and pulls the fledgling down to rest on his hip. Sabaoth hums happily to himself, laying his head on the older angel's shoulder, his thumb making its way to his mouth. Thaddeus smiles down at him, rubbing at his back softly, before returning his attention to the Power before him. "How is he a fledgling again?"

"The Winchesters witch. She's turned a number of guards into fledglings at this point, we think she finds it amusing, it's being looked into."

"Did it hurt?" He can't help the slight protectiveness that arises with him. "When he was turned back?"

Nisroc cringes slightly, rubbing at the back of his neck lightly. "Well, it's not exactly a _comfortable _feeling."

Thaddeus grows tense. "Did that witch make _my _baby brother _cry_?"

"It's being handled, Thaddy."

"That's not what I asked."

The Captain rubs a hand down his face. "I don't have time for this." And looks back up to the Warden. "Will you please watch him for me today?"

"Yea, of course," he doesn't appreciate his question being skirted, he can see it, he knows that's what's happening, but he'll let it slide. For the moment. "I'd love to watch him."

"Thank you, Thaddy, I'll come get him after supper time."

He nods, looking down to the fledgling on his hip, Sabaoth is sucking contentedly on his thumb and looks up at him in turn. They share a smile, and Nisroc smiles in turn, trusting that his fledgling was in good hands, he bids them a nice farewell and makes his leave.

…

"Oh where, oh where, could my little giggle monster be?" He stands in the center of his office, Sabaoth had beat him here after they came back from playing in the Garden and had clearly hidden himself out of sight. He knew for a fact that the fledgling was hiding in his closet, the door was cracked, and his giggles emanate out from within. "I can hear him, but I can't see him, oh, when I get my hands on my little giggle monster, I'm going to have so much fun with him."

The giggling grows harder and he smiles at the sound of it, stepping silently over to the closet, he doesn't want the boy to hear him and give away the surprise of his attack. He falls still, fingers curling around the door handle, and the giggling grows quiet, he's wondering where he went.

Sabaoth screams brightly when he throws the door open, jumping in surprise, and he laughs, reaching out to scoop the fledgling up, tossing him up above his head. "There's my giggle monster! I missed you!" he tosses him up again and the fledgling squeals excitedly, winding his arms around and around. "You're a good hider!"

"Bestest!" He catches the fledgling and Sabaoth pouts, kicking his legs slightly. "Thaddy, again! Up!"

"You want me to toss you up again?" The fledgling nods excitedly, Thaddeus chuckles, drawing him closer, and puckering his lips. "Give me a kiss?" Sabaoth giggles softly, smacking their lips together, and he chuckles, tossing the fledgling back up above his head. "Aren't you a cutie." Sabaoth squeals happily as he falls back down. "Alright, you've had your fun, can I have some fun now?"

The fledgling giggles softly, tugging at his beard again, and he tilts his head in an attempt to munch on his fingers. "Tickles?"

"Oh, you _want _tickles?"

His fledgling brother giggles again, stroking his fingers over his bearded cheek. "Whisker tickles!"

"Oh, baby bunny, I'd be glad to give you whisker tickles." He lifts the fledgling up above his head, searching out the exposed section of chubby fledgling belly, his tunic rising up. "Let me at this little belly."


	284. It May Be Your Opinion

"What was that!" He watches the young angel rage with a cool sort of ease, this wasn't the first young angel who'd been upset with a call he'd made during a mock one on one battle, it wasn't the first that had followed him back to his office to rant about it after training concluded for the day. "_He _wasn't victor! _I _was victor! I won that match! How _dare _you take that away from me!"

Perhaps he wasn't so cool about it.

"How _dare _I?" He stares up at the younger angel with just an ounce of heat in his eyes. "I don't need your _permission _to make any of the calls I do. I decide who the victor is, not you, and what I say goes."

"You made the _wrong _decision!"

"That may be your opinion." He nods lightly. "But my call stands, I don't care how much you rage about it, I'm not changing it."

"That's not fair!"

"Once again, that may be your opinion, I think my decisions over very carefully, and I stand by this one, just as I stand by every other decision I've made." He points a finger at him in warning. "You are very close to being in temper tantrum areas, and you know better then anyone how I feel about temper tantrums, so I'd be very careful."

"Screw your warning!" They point a finger at him, stepping closer, and he goes cross eyed as it jams into his face. "You need to change your decision! It's unfair! And, you said you're all about fairness!"

"You'd better get your finger out of my face, Sabaoth."

"You'd better name me victor!"

Nisroc blinks up at him, he's kind of miffed, but he's unphased by the youngling's anger. "You don't tell me what to do." He nods towards the fingers, still pointing in his face, and narrows his eyes slightly. "You had better get your finger _out _of my face, Sabaoth, I'm not going to tell you again."

"Then, you better do what's right, asshole!"

"Alright, that's more then enough." He curls his fingers around that finger in his face and tugs it away, it throws the youngling off balance for a moment, and he stumbles slightly, but catches himself soon enough, taking back his obstinate stance again. "When I tell you to do something, you had better do it, with as much haste as you can muster." He steps out from behind his desk calmly, he hasn't made it this far by letting his anger cloud his judgement, he did everything with meaning, nothing was done without being thought through. "You will reign your temper in, accept my decision, I don't care if you like it or not, it is my decision, and it stands."

Sabaoth seems to seeth with anger, his other hand clenching into a tight fist, admittedly, it catches him by more surprise then it should, when the young angel yanks his finger free, pulls his arm back, and punches him as hard as he can. It was unlike his boy to get this worked up, and it was even more unlike his boy to physically assault someone, _especially _him, but everyone made asinine decisions when they let their anger cloud their judgement.

He jaw cracks, and he moves with the momentum, his head flying around, it would cause less damage then it would if he stood against it.

The room seems to come to a sudden halt, silence surrounds them, its like it's turned into a vacuum.

Sabaoth stares at him in shock, his fist still raised midair, his eyes as wide as saucers, his fist slowly lowers. "I—I am _so_ sorry."

He ignores the boy for a moment, he'll deal with this in a minute, he instead reaches up for his jaw, curling his fingers around his lower jaw, he gently moves it, testing to see if anything were broken, Sabaoth could throw a nasty hook. It was sore, but nothing crackled, there was no grinding, indicating it wasn't broken, it would most certainly bruise, but he could deal with that.

Slowly, he turns around to face him, anger settling in the bottom of his belly, he'd let a lot of things slide, he was a very good guardian, he was not quick to anger, but this, _attacking_ him in the midst of a _temper tantrum _was something he'd never let alone. "How _dare _you strike me." What makes his anger so much different then the others was that his anger wasn't explosive, he didn't yell, he didn't shout, his voice didn't raise an octave. He didn't need to raise his voice to get his point across. "How _dare _you curse at me."

Sabaoth back peddles quickly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, Nis." He's trying to make his escape now, he can see the fury raging in his guardian's eyes, and he knows what comes with that fury, he really messed up. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

"Come here," Nisroc doesn't have to surge forward to catch him, the boy doesn't get too far, when he reaches out to curl his fingers around his upper arm. "Not so fast." He tugs him forward. "Not so big and bad now are we, where this defiant demanding young man go?"

"Nis, no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it!"

"Oh, we're apologetic now, are we?" He marches them across his office, to the closet to the right of his desk, and pulls the door open to reach in for something, Sabaoth knows what he's reach in for, he knows, and he doesn't like it. "Not so tough, huh?"

Sabaoth's eyes widen when he pulls the belt out, the dreaded belt, and turns them back around, marching them over to the front of his desk, the edge is cleared, and he stares down at it. "Bare yourself."

"No, Nis, please, I'm sorry!"

"Bare yourself, or I'll do it for you, and we can add extra lashes to the _many _you're already receiving."

"No, Nis, not bare! I'm really sorry! Please! I didn't mean it!"

"Alright, I can do it for you." He curls the belt over his shoulder and reaches back out, tugging the youngling's trousers down slightly, revealing his pale bottom from underneath. "You've got fifteen lashes and I want you to count them."

"Wait, no, Nis, no! I'm sorry! I'm EEEEHHHHAAAAAAAAAA OOOWWWWWWW!" He jumps forward at the first stinging lash, howling at the pain of it, but the hand curled around his upper arm keep him from getting too far, so he jumps in place as the second one follows soon after. "OWOWOWOWOWOW NIISSSSS! I'M SORRY!"

"Count them, Sabaoth, I don't hear you counting."

"TWOOHOHOHO! TWO! OOOOWWWWW AAAHHHHHH! THREEEEE!" His lashes come one right after another. "FOUR! FIIIIIVE! AAAAHHHHOOOOWWWWEEEEEE SIIIIIX!" No reprieve between them. "SEVEN AAAAHHHHHH EEEEIIIIIGHT! NIS, NIS NIIIINE OOOOWWWOOWOWOWOW! TEN!"

"I don't want to hear anything else but you counting, no pleading, no calling my name, just counting, ten more."

He shrieks, bouncing from foot to foot, when the next one comes down. "OWOWOWOWOW OOOOWWWWEEEEE ELEVENNNN! TWELVE AAAAHHHHHHH THIRTEEEEEN! PLEEEAASE! FOURTEEEENNNN OWWWWW OWOWOWOWOW!" The last five are the hardest, those ones are meant to leave a lasting impression, for him to always remember what will happen if he ever assaulted him again. "FIFTEEEENNNNNN OOOOWWWWW OOWOWOWOWOOWOWOW SIXTEEN! NIIIIISSSSSSS SEVENTEEENNNNN! PLEASE! NOO MOOOORE! EIGHTEEEENNNN! PLEEEAASE! NINETEEENNNN! AAAAHHHHH OWOWOWOWOWOWO OOOOOWOWWWWW TWENTYYYY!"

He's sobbing, hard, deep sobbing, into his hands, bouncing on the balls of his feet, when the hand finally uncurls from around his upper arm. He hears him step away faintly over the sounds of his harsh sobs, probably to put the dreaded belt away, and then he returns. Fingers curl around the waist of his trousers and pull them back into place, his hands fly back, away from his mouth, to rub miserably at his burning bottom. He's turned around, and he blinks up at the man, tears streaming down his face. "Come here, Saba, come here, little tiger." His arms open and he jumps forward, crashing into him, burying his face into his chest, clutching on to his tunic as tight as he can. "'M s'y! 'M s'y N's!"

"I know, sshhh, sshhh, it's alright." He curls his hand around the back of his head, scratching lightly at his scalp, swaying them from side to side. "You're all forgiven, it's alright, you're alright."

"H'ts! B'tt h'ts!"

"I'd imagine so, it was very red," he leans over, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Don't you ever punch me again, Sabaoth."

"N'v'r! N'v'r a'g'n!"

How the Power understands him with his words as muffled as they are is a mystery, but he's not the first sobbing youngster he's held buried in his chest, so he supposes he's had practice. "How about we go upstairs and take a nap?"

"C'rry me?"

Nisroc's chest rumbles softly as he chuckles, and he bends slightly, sweeping him up off his feet. "Yes, I'll carry you."


	285. Punching A Guard

"Tell me again, how you came across this blackeye?" He turns the guards head around, examining the shiner they've gained from their rounds, it was not uncommon for his guard to come across unruly prisoners, most kept to themselves, they knew he took abuse to his guards very seriously and they didn't want to face his wrath. He asked them to repeat their story because it was just so hard for him to believe, out of all of his prisoners, he never expected such behavior from _him. _He listens intently as they tell him their story again, and he frowns deeply, nodding along to every word. Letting go of their chin, he turns them in the direction of the cot in his office. "You lay down, it's quite a knock you took, I'll get you some ice to keep the swelling down."

The guard nods, turning away from the Warden, they make their way over to the cot and settle down, kicking off their boots, and turning around to lay against the pillow.

Thaddeus kneels at their side, a belt hanging over his left shoulder, and a small pack of ice in his hand. "Here, hold this over your eye for a few minutes, and try to take a nap." He watches them relax for a moment before sighing, standing up to his full height, and turning towards the door. He walks across his office slowly, and opens the door quietly, as to not disturb his guard, and steps out, closing the door behind him.

It's hard to believe, hearing that he would do something like this, he's usually so well behaved. He's never had to reprimand him in all his time being here, it doesn't come as much of a surprise though, he'd been having a bad week, he knew something was going to happen, one way or another.

He makes his way down the hall, towards the cell of the prisoner he's seeking, and he turns to face them as he comes up to it. "You attacked my guard."

The prisoner within glares up at him. "They should have backed off when I told them to!"

"Gadreel, you've been a right pain all week, causing all sorts of trouble, you're already on thin ice," he points a stern finger at him. "So, I would watch your tone."

"Oh, yea!" The young prisoner jumps up, seemingly missing the belt hanging over his shoulder, his own mistake. "What are you going to do! You don't scare me!"

"Attacking my guard, is disrespecting me, talking back, is disrespecting me, you've seemingly forgotten what happens when you disrespect me." His hand snatches out, his fingers curling around his upper arm, and he spins the young prisoner around. "Let me remind you."

"Wait, no, Thaddy!" Gadreel howls, jumping forward, when the belt lashes down against his bottom. "Wait! I'm sorry! Thaddy, please!"

Thaddeus shakes his head firmly, swinging the belt back again and again, the young prisoner hopping from foot to foot as the lashes continue to rain down. "You asked what I would do. This is what I would do."

Gadreel cries out, it doesn't take long for the tears to come falling, he jumps with every lash, and his hands come flying back after a solid minute. "Thaddy! No more! I'm sorry! I'm really sorry!"

"Are you _ever _going to attack one of my guards again?"

He shakes his head frantically. "No! Never again! Never!" He looks at him over his shoulder, eyes red and puffy, and shakes his head again. "Never, Thaddy! Please stop! I'm really sorry!"

"Good boy," he tosses the belt back over his shoulder and tugs the younger angel around, pulling him into his arms, hugging him close as he cried softly against his shoulder. "I know it's not easy, Gaddy, I know, but there's no room to lose your head."

"I'm sorry, Thaddy, I'm sorry!" He clutches at the back of his tunic tightly, crying into his shoulder. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! I promise!"

"I know you didn't, baby brother, I know, it's alright." He leans over, pressing a kiss to his head, and Thaddeus rubs his back soothingly. "It's alright, grasshopper, everyone has their bad days. You're not in anymore trouble. You're all forgiven."

Gadreel sniffles, his cries fading into hiccups, and he rubs his nose lightly over the fabric of his sleeve. "Can I stay with you, Thaddy?"

"Sure, grasshopper, you're gonna go on upstairs and climb into bed, and I'll come join you in a bit, alright?" He kisses his head again, and turns them out of the cell, his arm curled around his waist, guiding him out and down the hall. Gadreel's fingers are curled in the back of his tunic, and he looks up at him when the come to stand at the end of the hall, between the stairs and the door to his office. Thaddeus rubs his back soothingly. "You go on up, I'll come join you in a bit."

Gadreel nods, rubbing at his nose slightly, and steps away from him, taking then first stair up, then the second, and the third, until he disappears from sight.


	286. Spending The Day With Papi

"So, what are you two doing today?" He's finishing up washing their breakfast dishes when the boy hops into his room, struggling to put his right boot in, his puppy friend at his heels, trotting in beside him. Thaddeus dries his hands on a small towel, offering the puppy one of the left over pieces of bacon, Qaspiel barks in appreciation, taking the bacon with much gusto. "You seem to be heading off somewhere."

It was Zophiel's first time heading off on his own since Father lifted his sentence, part of him was nervous, not that he would say so in case he dampened the boys mood, he didn't want to kill his excitement. "I'm going to go meet papi this time. He always came to meet me. I want to meet him this time."

"I see, are you coming back for lunch, or having lunch with papi?"

"I'm probably going to have lunch with papi."

"Mhmm." He gestures to the bed. "Sit down, you little hooligan, with your luck you're going to trip and break your leg."

Zophiel sticks his tongue out at him and hops over to the bed, flopping down on the edge, he pulls his boot on and ties up the laces. Stomping his foot down, he hops back up excitedly, he can't help it, after being trapped in here for over two years, even with papi taking him out, there was nothing like being able to go out on his own.

Thaddeus catches him by the shoulders as he makes to bounce by, caressing his cheeks lightly. "Do you have the scroll Father gave you?"

"Mhmm."

"Good, you keep that on you at all times, even when you're with papi."

"I will, papa."

"Good boy," he pulls him in, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and turns him around, smacking his bottom lightly. "Off with you then. Have fun."

"I will!" He darts away, calling over his shoulder. "Come on, Qasp!"

…

"And, so I said, I said he can take his advice and shove it up his—"

_"Papi! Paaaappppiiiiii!"_

The call cuts the younger Power off mid complaint, and they both turn in the direction of it's origin, Abraxos squints his eyes at the approaching youngling and puppy. "Is that youngling calling you '_papi'_?"

Nisroc nods, smiling at the approaching form, and kneels slightly as the youngling draws closer, holding his hands out to catch him. He's spent enough time with the boy to know how his greetings work. The boy jumps forward when he's close enough, and he snags him up, spinning him around as he laughs excitedly, curling his fingers into the shoulders of his tunic. Coming to a standstill, the boy slides down, curling his legs around is waist, giggling happily. "Hi, papi."

"Hi, nieto, have you come to visit little ole me?"

"I wanted to come meet you this time." Zophiel smiles at him. "Because you always came to meet me."

"Oh, my, God." Abraxos looks between the two of them with wide eyes, a smile stretching over his features, his previous woes completely forgotten. "He calls you _'grandpa' _and you call him _'grandson'_?"

"He does, and I do." He turns his attention to the younger Power. "Is that a problem?"

"No, no, I think it's adorable."

"Papi," Zophiel curls closer, pressing his cheek against the Power's, staring at the other angel with wide eyes, not knowing if he had to get the scroll out or not. "Who's this?"

"This is Abraxos."

"Hey, little guy." The other Power waves a few fingers at him. "Nice to meet you."

The boy ducks into the Captain slightly, hiding behind him as much as he can, peeking out at the other Power. He's been locked up in a Prison for over two years, excuse him, he's a bit shy. "Hi."

Abraxos smiles at the boy in his Captain's arms. "Is he one of Thaddy's?"

"He is, the only one to call me _'papi'_," Nisroc kisses the boy's cheek lightly. "I'm sure it started as a joke at first but then it became the norm." He turns slightly, brushing his lips over the youngling's cheek again, pressing another kiss over it. "Are you spending the day with, Papi?"

Zophiel smiles, nodding his head, looking over to him, meeting his eyes. "Can I?"

"I have training today, I'm afraid I won't be of very much fun."

"That's okay." He kicks his legs lightly. "Can I help you?"

"Well, I guess, are you good at giving orders?"

Qaspiel barks at his feet, as though to answer for him, and they both look down at the puppy. Zophiel giggles softly. "Yes."

"Well then," he presses another kiss against his cheek. "I don't see why you can't help me."

"Yay!" Zophiel hugs him tightly. "Thanks, papi!"

Abraxos shakes his head lightly. "You guys are too cute. You're going to give me diabetes."


	287. The Honor Of Being First

"Hey, Thaddy."

He smiles at the voice, looking up from the file he'd been reading, he'd been on his way to the new intakes cell, better to get their first session over sooner rather then later, takes a bite from the apple curled in the fingers of his right hand, and turns his course around towards the voice that called out to him.

"Good morning, Zander."

The young prisoner within his cell, arms looped between the bars, leaning forward on the gate, reaches out for the apple in his hand, and he moves closer, letting the youth take the apple from him and take his own bite before depositing the fruit back in his hand.

He chews for a moment and swallows. "Looking for your first victim?"

Thaddeus smiles at him fondly and nods. "I am, there was a new intake a few days ago, I was thinking I'd get them this morning."

Zander nods, rubbing at his nose lightly. "Can I go first?"

He closes the file at the request, tucking it under his arm, he leans forward against the bars. "You want to be my first session."

The youngling nods, leaning forward, licking him on the nose playfully. "Yep. I wanna be the first."

The Warden makes a face, leaning back slightly to wipe his nose with his hand, and smiles at him playfully in turn. "What is it you want from me?"

Zander's cheeks heat up and he looks down. "Thaaaaddyyyy!"

"You have to tell me what you want in order for me to ensure you get it."

The boy bites his lip and looks up, his cheeks a bright red, a stark contrast to his normally pallor complexion. "I want some tickles."

"You want what?"

"Thhaaaadddyyyyy!"

"Oh, fine, never let me have any fun." He reaches for the keys on his belt. "I heard you."

"Yay!" Zander claps his hands lightly, bouncing back a pace, his excitement almost fledglinglike. "Thank you!"

He nods, unlocking the cell door, and swings it open. Zander bounces forward, jumping up on him, and he fumbles slightly to catch him and not drop the folder he carried, as the youth wraps his legs around his waist. Of course, he could get a guard to carry the boy down to the chamber, but Zander was special, he'd carry him down there himself. He smiles, pressing their foreheads together. "You're so excited that you're shaking."

"I'm so happy!"

"You're always happy."

"I know!"

He chuckles, shaking his head, and turns them out of the cell. Zander giggles excitedly, pressing his forehead against the elder's staring into his eyes, and it's only by shear memory that he gets them there without running into anything in their way, or tripping over his own two feet, as he stares right back. "I'm going to give you so many tickles."

"All the tickles?"

"Every single bit of tickles."

"All the tickles!"

Zander squeals softly, and his heart soars at his excitement, out of all his victims, Zander was his favorite. He always had so much fun with him, and vise versa. He elbows the door open and steps inside, the lanterns on the walls first up at their entrance, illuminating the room around them, it's a dim glow, but it's enough. The fireplace springs to life as they approach, he kicks the door closed behind him, the youth giggles again, bouncing lightly in his arms, he's just so excited, he loves that about him, he's like a little puppy. "Someone's excited."

"This is the first time!" Zander explodes excitedly. "The first time since the bad times!"

That brings him to a pause, and he presses their foreheads together again, staring back into his eyes. "Zan, did I ever hurt you?"

"What?"

He elaborates. "Did I ever harm you?"

"No," he feels relief wash over him when the boy shakes his head. "You ignored me. It was like I didn't even exist to you anymore. It was upsetting, because I really love you, but it was better then having your attention like some of the others did, so it was also good too."

"I'm happy I didn't hurt you too, relieved, I already can't forgive myself for harming those that I did, but if I'd have hurt you, it'd have killed me." He kisses him on the nose lightly. "You mean a lot to me."

Zander giggles again, kissing him on the nose in return. "I love you too, Thaddy."

"Good, I'm glad to know my love isn't unreciprocated." He sets him down on the edge of the table. "Let's get this little party started." He smiles when the youngling squeals softly in excitement and bounces on the edge of the table. "Boots?" He chuckles when the young angel kicks his bare feet up, wiggling his toes lightly. "Someone was mighty sure I'd let them be first, weren't they?" He pinches at one of his toes and the little angel giggles exuberantly. "No tunic, no boots, it's like you expected me to bring you down."

"I _knew_ you would." He wiggles his toes again. "I'm one of your _favorites_."

"Oh, you _knew_, huh?" Thaddeus pinches his toe again. "Well, I suppose you can go first, you're already here."

"One of your _favorites_!"

"Uhuh," he curls his fingers around his ankles and turns him around on the table, tugging him over to rest in the middle, and Zander bounces in place again. "Do you want to be strapped down or no?" He was the only one who got the choice, mainly because he didn't fight to get away, he had a feeling that the boy liked being tickled, but he didn't want to broach the subject until he was comfortable with him doing so.

Zander taps a finger to his chin in thought. "Yes and no."

"Yes and no?" He nods again, tugging him closer to the straps just in case. "Okay, top or bottom?"

He kicks his feet lightly in his hold. "Bottom."

Thaddeus nods. "Alright." And leans over to strap his left ankle down, and then his right, Zander giggles adorably and wiggles his toes again. "Lay on down, you know the drill." The boy flops backwards, throwing his arms up above his head, giggling all the while, he was so excited, and it was adorable.

Zander watches him cross around to stand at his right side, giggling and squirming when he pokes him in the side playfully. "You ready for your tickles?"

The boy bites his lip, nodding firmly. "Do your worst."

"Do my worst, huh?"

The boy smiles, despite his biting his lip, and nods.

"Oh, alrighty then, I'll do my worst." He leans over to poke him on the nose. "Just remember, you asked for it." The Warden turns away from him then, and he watches his back as he bends over, lifting a bucket off the floor, he dips it in the cauldron hanging next to the fire, scooping up a bucket of water. He smiles as he turns to set the bucket of water on the bottom edge of the table, between his feet, then he crosses over to the small cabinet on the wall to the left of the fireplace, opens the door, and reaches in. He pulls out a bar of soap, a scrub brush, and a towel. He smiles as he returns to the bottom of the table, setting the towel down over his right leg, he dips the brush and soap into the bucket and lathers it up. "We'll start with a good scrubbing."

Zander smiles, kicking his legs in anticipation, and Thaddeus smiles at him. "Do you remember our safe word?"

"Pineapple!"

"Good, and you remember the rules?"

"Say pineapple when I want you to stop!"

"Good, good, you know the rules." He drops the bar of soap in the bucket and leans over to his right foot. "Let's begin our session." He kneels, curling his the fingers of his right hand around the top of his foot and presses the scrub brush to his sole, and Zander squeals in anticipation, it makes him chuckle softly. "I haven't done anything yet."

"I know!"

He shakes his head, one of his favorites indeed, and sets to scrubbing the brush over the little angel's bare sole. Zander squeals brightly, kicking his foot around, curling his toes up as he scrubs over his sole. "This foot is mighty dirty, isn't it?"

"Thahahahahhahhaaddyyyyy! AAhahahhahahahheeieiieieaiiaiaiaiahahahhahahahaha! Nohohohohohohohooho eieieiieaiaiaihahahhahahahhahahaaiaieiiiaiaiaiaeieiieieiaiaaiahhahahahahahha!"

"We can't forget these toes." He curls his index finger around the boy's big toe and pulls it back, uncurling his toes, and rubs the brush over the backs of the little toes. "These need a good scrubbing too."

Zander throws himself up, twisting his foot around in his grasp, reaching out to grab the older angel. He doesn't push him away, he curls his fingers into the shoulders of his tunic, and tugs lightly, cackling and shrieking with laughter.

"Let's not forget the other foot." He moves over to the other foot, giving that sole a good scrubbing too, getting up under the toes. "Here we go. That's much better. All clean."

The boy's chest heaves when he pulls away, dropping the brush back in the bucket, he pulls away from his hands as he turns, depositing the bucket on the table behind him, and turns back for the towel, drying his feet gently. "Now we don't have to wash them before our nap."

"Buhuhut we juhuhust had breheheakfast!"

"I know we did, but you know how this works, mister." Thaddeus pokes him in the nose and he giggles harder, batting at his hand. "We have our session and then you have a nap."

"You'll nap with me, right?"

"Sure, I will," he pokes him on the nose again. "I know you'll just follow me around if I don't."

"Darn right I will."

"I knew it," he pokes him in the nose one last time. "Enough talking, this is interrupting our session." He presses his other hand to the boy's chest, pushing him back down again, Zander giggles as he lays back. "Arms up." He raises his arms above his head. "Good boy, now," he reaches for his whip hanging curled up just off the side of his belt. "You hold on to this and keep those arms up." The boy curls his fingers around his wound-up whip, and giggles in anticipation, squirming on his back. "You remember what happens if you pull your arms down?"

"Straps!"

"Very good, what else?"

"Lots of berries!"

Thaddeus smiles down at him. "You just know all the answers, don't you?" Zander giggles again, nodding his head, smiling up at him brightly. He loves these things. Thaddy makes everything so much fun. He really loves Thaddy. He's really happy he's back to himself again and acknowledges his existence. "You remember our safe word, right?"

"Pineapple!"

"Good, let's get to it." He leans over his right armpit, poking his two pointer fingers into the open space, Zander inhales deeply, curling his fingers tighter around the whip in his grasp. "I've always loved these armpits, they've always been mighty ticklish, they're my favorite." He wiggles his fingers around and the boy shrieks with laughter, scrunching his arms up slightly, they bend forward just a tad, and Thaddeus laughs softly, looking back at him. "Arms up, mister!" Zander throws his arms back up and shrieks as the fingers begin wiggling around again, struggling against the desire to lower his arms again, it makes it so much worse, in his opinion.

"Eeehehehehehheaahahahahhahahahahahah Thahahhahahahaaddyyyy! Aahahahahahahhahahaahe plehehehehhehaahahahhease! Ahahahahahahhahahah eieieieieiiaiaiaiaiahahhahahahhahaheeiieiahahahahahhahahaa! Nohohohhohohoo eehahhahahhahahahahahahahha!"

He chuckles, fluttering the fingers of his right hand over the exposed armpit, standing back up, he leans against the side of the table with his hip. "I could tickle these armpits all day." He shakes his head lightly, humming in pleasure. "Listen to the sound of that sweet, sweet laughter."

"Thahahahahhahaddyyyy! Thahahahahaddyyyy I ahahahhahahaha hahahahhahave soohohohohomething toohhohohoho sahahahahhaay!"

"You have something to say?" The Warden leans over him, pausing his attack. "What have you got to say?"

Zander giggles up at him. "I love you."

He chuckles softly. "I love you too, kiss?" The boy nods, puckering his lips up, and he leans over, pressing a quick kiss over them. "You want more tickles?"

The boy nods lightly, bracing himself. "I'm ready!"

"Good," Thaddeus braces his arm slightly. "It's not a session without berries."

"EIIEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAA AHAHHAHAHAEIIEIEAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHA PIHIHIHIHINEHEHEHEHHEAIAIIAIIAHAHHAHAAPPPPLLEEEHEHHEHEHEHEHE! PINEAPPLE! EEIEIIAIAIAAIHAHAHAHHAHAHAA AHAHAHHAHAHEIEIIEAIAIAIHAHAHAAHHAHHAHA! PINEAPPLE! THADDY, AAHAHHAHAHAHAA PINEAPPLE!"

"Okay, we're done." He pulls away, and the boy curls his arms up, clutching tightly at his whip, he sits up, curling his arms around his belly. Thaddeus takes his whip back, and crosses around to the bottom of the table, unstrapping his ankles, he tugs him down the length of the table. "Time for our nap."

Zander curls around him, resting his head on the man's shoulder, giggling into the side of his neck. He chuckles slightly, rubbing at the back of his head lightly, walking around the table towards the door. "Was it too much?"

"Noho! Fun!"

"Good," he opens the door and turns the corner, taking the steps slowly, one at a time, there's no rush for them to get there. "I wanted you to have fun." He pushes open the door to his room, walks in, and pushes the door closed behind him. "You like tickles, don't you?" It's now or never.

The youngling nods lightly, his giggles having died down, he was sleepy now, despite having just finished breakfast an hour ago. They were always tired after their sessions. "Mhmmm."

"I knew it." He leans over the side of his bed and gently lowers the youngling down over it. Zander smiles, curling up on his side, cuddling down under the blankets as he pulls them up over him. He turns away, and the boy whines, reaching out for him. "Thaaadddyyyy!" He leans over, plopping down on the edge of the bed, ruffling his curls lightly. "I'm not going anywhere; I'm just taking my boots off."

That seems to appease the boy, and he settles back down, watching him lean over to untie his boots and pull them off. He sets them to rest at the edge of the bed and turns around, curling towards him, opening his arms invitingly, Zander scoots closer, settling against him, between his arms, and exhales deeply as he settles down.

"I love you, Thaddy."

"I love you too, Zan."


	288. The Necessary Introductions

"You should introduce yourself." He mumbles into the Warden's shoulder, his arms wrapped around him, fingers curled into the back of his tunic, he started all of his days off with a hug. Fingers scratch at the back of his head lightly as the sway softly from side to side. "I mean, _really _introduce yourself."

"I've already introduced myself, Rog." His fingers stroke through the curls on the back of his head. "He knows me."

"He does _not_." Rogziel presses closer. "He only knows you when you're angry. He doesn't know how you _really _are."

"What ever do you mean _'how I really am_'?"

"You know," he nudges the Warden lightly. "Your tickle monster self. Mendi is _really _ticklish. You'd love it."

"He is, is he?" Sue him, his interest is peaked. "Tell me about him."

The young guard curls around him even more. "If there was one person who had all the ticklishness in the world, it would be Mendi, you just have to poke him in the right spot, and he loses it."

"Really now?" Thaddeus rests his chin on the boy's curls. "Where would one have to poke him to get the best reaction?"

He smiles, ducking down, pressing his forehead against the Warden's shoulder. "Well, pretty much anywhere, but definitely in the belly. Or the armpits. The neck too."

"Oh, really?" He hums in thought. "Perhaps I will have to properly introduce myself, you're right, he doesn't know the real me."

"I'm telling you, Thaddy, Mendi isn't sure about you, he's confused, he doesn't know the real you and all the things Theo said about you left him conflicted. He should know the man he's working for."

"You know, you do have a point, he really should know the real me if he's going to be working under me."

"I'm tell you, Thaddy, he really should."

He nods lightly. "Perhaps he should know what the Chamber is used for as well."

"I agree, Thaddy, I think he should too."

The Warden chuckles softly, kissing him on the top of the head. "You sure do have some grand ideas."

…

He was surprised when the two Elders corned him, he didn't know how to react as the one yanked him forward by the wrist, knelt slightly, and tugged him up over their shoulder. He dangled there, hanging over their shoulder, as they carried him down the hall, the other Elder at his heel. He tried asking where they were going but they weren't in the mood to answering his questions, it appeared, they didn't answer, carrying him down the hall in silence.

Pushing himself up, he watched them carry him in the chamber, and his eyes widened, he'd heard about what happened in here. He didn't understand why he was being brought in here, he wasn't a prisoner, he was a guard, this was where prisoners were brought, left at the Warden's mercy, the door closed to all those on the outside.

Mendrion doesn't think to struggle as they tug his tunic up over his head, one of them forcing him down as the other straps his wrists in place, they fold his tunic up nicely and set it down on the wooden table at his feet, one turning to tug his boots off, fitting the two straps at the bottom of the table around his ankles.

"H—Hey, what are you doing?" He tugs at his binds, but they hold firm. "L—Let me go!"

They nod at each other silently, turning to make their leave, the one on the right pulling the door closed behind them as they exit.

He lays there in silence, listening to the crackling of the fire, and looks around the room. It's clean, not how he imagined it, a tapestry hangs on the wall behind the table at his feet, it's nothing like he thought it would be.

Mendrion looks over as the door opens, Thaddeus smiles at him as he steps in, his sleeves rolled up just under his elbows. "Well, hello, little guy." He crosses over to stand at his side. "You seem to have gotten yourself into quite the jam."

"W—Why am I trapped here?" The guard stares up at him with wide eyes. "Wh—What's going on? I'm not a pr—prisoner."

"Oh, you're a prisoner alright, just not one locked in a cell." He rubs a finger over his upper arm lightly. "There's some misconceptions you have about me that I feel need to be addressed."

"Wh—What?"

"I'm not a bad guy," he slowly traces his finger down his arm. "You know how strict I can be, but that's not who I am, I'm not a strict guy, I'm a nice guy. I like to laugh. I like to make other people laugh." Mendrion squirms slightly, as much as his binds will allow him to, biting his lips as the finger tracing down his arm gets closer and closer to his armpit. "I like making my prisoners laugh. I _love _making my _guards _laugh." His fingers pauses just above his armpit and he inhales deeply.

"I—I don't un—understand."

He smiles down at him. "I've heard that you happen to be quite ticklish."

"I—I…What?"

"I said," he dips his finger into his armpit and rests there. "I heard you happen to be quite ticklish."

"S—So?"

"So," the Warden leans over him lightly, smiling at him happily, and Mendrion feels a sense of lighthearted dread settle in the pits of his belly. "I happen to adore ticklish people." He wiggles his finger lightly and the guard squirms harder, biting his lip to keep a fit of giggles at bay. "Especially those who are _quite _ticklish."

"I'm just a l—little ticklish, is all."

"Mhmm," He nods playfully. "That's not what I heard." He stands up, removing his finger from his armpit, and eyes him carefully. "I want to see just how ticklish you _really _are, but where to start?" He looks up to meet his eyes again. "Top?" And then down to look at him feet. "Or bottom?"

"Umm…. Nowhere?"

"Hmmm," Thaddeus shakes his head lightly. "I don't think that was one of the options." He steps around towards his head, and he tilts his head back, not wanting to lose track of him, even if they were shut up together in the same room. "I think I'll start at the top, I have nothing to do this afternoon, and you're not going anywhere until I let you, so there's no rush."

"What are you—" "Like my feather?" He goes crossed eyed as a feather is held out in front of him. The Warden flicks the tip over the tip of his nose lightly. "I like my feather too." He lifts the feather up, twirling it between his fingers, then he lowers it again, Mendrion squeaks as the feather touches his neck, brushing around gently. "Makes it easy to reach all those not so easily reached spaces." He tries to scrunch his shoulder up, biting his lip harshly to keep himself calm, and twitches as the tip of the feather strokes up under his ear. "Awe, you're not making this fun, don't bite back those giggles, let me hear them." He shakes his head, biting his lip harder, and Thaddeus chuckles lightly. "Oh, I'll get those giggles. Some people can't stand the feather, other's need a bit more fine encouragement."

Mendrion watches him reach up, sticking the feather back into his bun, and crosses around to stand at his right side. "Let's see you withstand _this_."

His eyes widen at the implication of that statement. "Wait, wh—"

Thaddeus takes a deep breath and leans over, situating himself between his arm and neck, and blows a long raspberry over his neck. His eyes widen drastically, and he shrieks, squealing with laughter. The Warden chuckles against his neck. "Wow. That was not what I expected from such a quiet little guy." He buries himself back in. "Let's see if I can make that happen again." And he blows another raspberry into the side of his neck. Mendrion squeals brightly, turning his head away, trying to lean to the other side. "Oh, that's beautiful, Mendi, you've been holding out on me."

"Thahahahhahahaddeheheheheheus!"

"Call me _'Thaddy'_. There's no need to be so formal." He buries his face back into his neck. Mendrion falls tense, waiting for it to come, and he shivers slightly, squeaking when the Warden shakes his head, rubbing his beard in. "And, I'm going to call you Mendi, I've heard Rog call you that, Rog's one of mine, you know, I helped raise him. He's a big sucker for hugs. He'll tell me anything if I give him a great big long hug. He also likes cuddles. A giant cuddle bug, that one, but I like cuddles just as much, so I can't complain." He blows another raspberry and the guard squeals again, kicking his legs as best as he can, it caught him by surprise that time. "Your neck is might sensitive; you know, this is great."

Thaddeus pulls away from the side of his neck and smiles down at him, he returns the smile with a shy one of his own, this isn't what he'd thought to expect from the man, he knew he was different then Theo was, after he'd taken the belt to him, he knew he was different, but not this different. This is nothing like he expected. "See, I'm a nice guy." He crosses around to stand above his head once more. "I've also been told that I'm quite the tickle monster."

"You are?"

He nods lightly. "I am. I'm a big tickle monster. I love giving tickles, ask Saba, oh, he knows _really _well. We grew up together, you know." He rubs at his beard gently. "Though, I've also been told I don't _take _it well." Thaddeus shrugs lightly. "But, oh well, the only one who can stand a chance in getting me is Nis, and he's a very busy guy."

Mendrion smiles up at him, this is so much different then what he'd thought the legendary man would be like, he was nothing like Theo, _he _was harsh and unforgiving, always snapping and yelling. Thaddeus was kind, he was always smiling, everyone seemed to like him, he was nice and never yelled, not even when he was angry at them for hurting Sabaoth's feelings, he was comforting, he'd held them after he reprimanded them, cleaning them up after their tears dried up, and he was forgiving, as soon as their punishment was through, the crime was no more, water under the bridge, no more. It was over and done with.

"I've been told these armpits are particularly bad." He raises his hands, holding his index fingers out, pointing them down into his armpits. "I've been told they're mighty ticklish."

"They're not!"

"I don't believe that," he chuckles softly. "Not from that quick denial."

The guard bites his lip for a moment, staring up at the Warden with wide eyes, his head tilted back to keep the contact from breaking. "Rog is a jerk."

"How do you know it was Rog who told me?"

He gives him a dull look and the Warden chuckles again. "It was Rog." He wiggles his fingers for a quick moment, and he shrieks softly, biting his lip again. "What have I said about biting back that laughter?" He flutters his fingers over his armpits and he shrieks again, explosive laughter erupting from him, he doesn't even have the opportunity to try and hold it back. "There we go, that's better, let it all out."

"Thahhahahahahhaaddyyy! Pleehehehehehheease! Ahahahahahahhahahhaha nohhohohohoho!"

"That's what I like to hear." He wiggles his index fingers into the hollows of his armpits, and he squeals again, twisting his hands around in their bindings, his fingers flexing slightly. "That's right, call me _'Thaddy', _calling me _'Thaddeus' _is much too formal for my taste."

"Eeieieiieieiaaiaiaahahahhahahahhhaha! Gehehehehhet thehehehehem ohohhohohout! Eieiiiaiaiaaiahahahahahaha ahahahhahahahahaha plehehehhehehahahhahahahahehehehhease!"

"Rog was right, these armpits are mighty ticklish, this is amazing." He flutters his fingers over his armpits again and Mendrion shrieks once more, shaking his head from side to side, his pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears. "I love the quiet ones, the shy ones, and the mighty ticklish ones." He flutters all ten fingers over his left armpit and the guard shrieks with laughter, twisting his arm around, flapping his elbow, all in an attempt to break his bindings and pull his arm down, but his arm doesn't budge. "And, you, you're mighty ticklish."

"I knoooowwww! Aahahahahhahahahha ahahahahhahahahaha! Plehehehhehehease! Aahahahahhaha Thahahahahhhaaadddyyyy!"

"I could do this all evening, like I said, I have nothing to do." He leans against the head of the table and reaches back to get his other armpit too. "Just bask in your laughter, torturing these armpits until they can't take it anymore, I could, and no one would stop me."

Mendrion's eyes widen drastically and he shakes his head frantically. "Nohohohohoho ahahahhahahha nohohhohohohoho!"

"Oh, have you had enough?" He nods feverishly, and the Warden chuckles, wiggling a finger into his hollows for a moment more, he finally pulls away. "You know what we're going to do now?"

He shakes his head, watching the man's fingers as the pull the straps around his wrists free, and then smooth his curls back. "We're going to get a drink of water and go upstairs to take a nap."

"A—A nap?"

"Yep, a nap." Thaddeus crosses around to the end of the table, and he sits up, watching him unstrap his ankles. "Come on, hop down." He tugs on his ankles lightly and turns, scooping up his boots and tunic, and then turns towards the door, gesturing for him to follow. "We're going to cuddle up and take a nap."

"In _your _bed?"

"Well, of course," he tucks his things under his right arm and pulls the door open, gesturing for him to follow again as he turns, stepping between two guards, and heads his way upstairs. Mendrion follows, looking at the pictures hanging over the stone walls, and looks up when they stop on the landing, turning to look at the thick wooden door as the Warden turns the handle and pushes it open.

His room is nothing like he imagined it. Its warm, full of warm colors, and clean. The bed is made up nicely, clothes put away in the wardrobe, the plants on the windowsill are vibrant and blooming, the desk is cleared of clutter, and the kitchen area is well put together. It's nothing like he expected from him. There's a next of blankets cluttered together under the window, and all he can make out is two heads of curls, they're not moving, he assumes they're sleeping.

Thaddeus follows his line of sight and shakes his head, smiling slightly. "Don't mind them. That's Sasha, my fledgling, and Zander, my pain in the ass, it's the fledglings nap time and Zander isn't one to miss out on nap time." He waves him in. "Come on, come on, inside with you, close the door behind you, don't let the heat out."

Mendrion hurries in, closing the door behind him just as he was told, and turns to the man for further instruction. Thaddeus opens the door to his wardrobe and reaches in, pulling a tunic off a hanger, and turns, tossing it to the guard, he's so shocked by this turn of events he fumbles to catch it before it hits the floor. "Put this on."

He nods, tugging out of his tunic quickly and pulling the Warden's over his head, it's big on him, the hem comes down passed his knees. The older angel chuckles as he turns to look at him, setting his things down on the desk, and he gestures to his boots. "Go ahead and climb in, it's naptime, for everyone involved." He nods, stepping forward, across the room, and eyes the neatly made bed nervously, dare he do this. Theo would skin him alive if he ever even thought about climbing into his bed.

Fingers curl over his shoulder, rubbing in soothingly, and he turns slightly, the Warden's beard rubbing over the side of his forehead. "Go on, it's alright, I changed the sheets and washed the blankets. No evidence of Theo's presence is there, I promise." He nods cautiously, pulling the blankets back, and slides in. The bed is soft under him, like a sort of memory foam, a cloud even, and he crawls over to the other side, settling down against a pillow. He watches the Warden sit on the edge of the bed, leaning over to untie his boots, and turn around, sliding in next to him.

Thaddeus raises his arm. "Come here, it's alright, its chilly, we can share the warmth."

Mendrion nods, scooting closer, up under the older angel's arm, resting his head on his chest. Fingers thread through his curls, rubbing at his head lightly, and the blankets are pulled up over him even more. "See, this isn't so bad, is it?"

He shakes his head, sighing in comfort, the scratching at his head feels good, he likes the feeling of the arm curled around him, it feels nice. "It's not. It's nice."

The Warden hums softly. "I guess you could say that I am a bit soft."

The guard remembers how his bottom had felt after their first meeting. "But, not all the time."

He feels the man shake his head. "No, not all the time, I can be very strict." He strokes his curls back. "I just don't believe in being a hard ass all the time, it's no fun for anyone, it can be tiring, it takes more effort to frown then it does to smile." Mendrion listens to the beating of his heart, the thrum of his grace running under his skin, it's comforting. "I like smiling, I like to make people laugh, it makes everyone feel better, we don't need to have doom and gloom to run a serious business."

"You're not how I expected you to be."

"I hope that's a good thing." He strokes his curls back, resting his cheek against the side of his head, rubbing lightly at his shoulder instead. "I'm not weak because I treat people the way I do. I can be just as strong as anyone else."

"You throw heavy hits, too." Mendrion listens to the rumble in his chest as he chuckles. "I do, don't I, just don't give me a reason to throw them."

"I won't." He nods, perhaps it could be seen as nuzzling closer. "I don't want to have to go through that again."

"Neither do I. I don't like being that guy. Don't make me have to be that guy."

The young guard licks his lips. "I thought you were going to whip us."

"Never. I don't whip my prisoners and I don't whip my guards. I'm not that unjust." He feels him press a kiss to his curls. "Now, enough talking, it's naptime, mister. Close those eyes."


	289. Thunderstorms Are Scary

He huddles under the blanket, whining softly at the crash of thunder echoing out the window, sleeping in papa's bed made it just a bit better, but without papa there to hold him it didn't help by much, it was still scary and he had no big strong arms to hold him protectively until the storm passed. Titus was away, and it was supposed to storm all night, he wasn't going to get any sleep tonight if it kept rumbling like this.

Between bouts of thunder, he could hear the faint sounds of talking coming from down the hall, the others were still up, conversing good naturedly in the Lounge. He'd join them, but it was passed his bed time, and if he got up for anything but the bathroom, he'd have his toys taken away, and he didn't want his toys taken away. He got a new toy earlier that evening before papa left, and he hadn't had a chance to play with it before bed, so he was looking forward to it when morning came around.

He jumps at another loud bang, hugging his dolphin tighter, the window panes shake at the reverberations from the loud crack of thunder.

"Sora?"

He jumps at the voice that calls his name, crawling out from under the blankets quickly in case they leave because they think he's asleep, and he stares up into the eyes of his savior.

"Nis!"

"Hey, Sora," the Captain pushes the door to his brother's room open, and steps inside. "I was on my way down to my room and thought I'd check on you." He squats beside him at the edge of the bed. "Is the storm scaring you?"

Sorath nods quickly, hugging his dolphin close, a small tear dripping down from his left eye.

Nisroc smiles at him, holding his hands out. "How about you come sleep with me tonight, it's supposed to storm all weekend, I'll keep you safe tonight and your papa will be back tomorrow by lunch time.

The fledgling nods, crawling closer to him, and he curls his fingers under his arms, lifting him from the bed as he stands back up. He curls his left arm under the boy's bottom, kissing the side of his head, curls rub over his nose. "Do you have your dolphin?" Sorath nods and presses his face against the side of his neck, his little fingers curling in his tunic. "Alright, let's get to bed."

Sorath hides away against him, away from the scary thunderstorm, hugging his dolphin close to his side.

Nisroc pushes his door open, stepping into his room, and cracks the door behind him. He carries the fledgling over to his bed, and leans over. "I'm going to set you down while I clean up, I'm not going anywhere, I promise." The fledgling nods, huddling in the middle of the bed, watching the Power brush out his hair, and braid it up, he washes his face in a basin of water, and then he joins him.

He scoots over as the Captain slides into bed, holding his arms out for him, he dives into them when another crash of thunder rolls around them, huddling in close.

Big strong arms curl around him. "Sshhh, it's alright, I've got you."

"Scary, Nis!"

"I know it is, I know, but I've got you. It can't reach you in here. You're safe and sound in my arms." He curls his fingers around his exposed ear. "Do you hear my heart?" The fledgling nods. "Just listen to the beat of my heart." He nods again, his free hand making it's way up to his mouth, and he sucks on his thumb softly as he listens to the _thump thump thump. _"There you go." He lays down against his pillows, pulling the fledgling up to lay over his front, his legs resting down around his sides. "I've got you."

Sorath hums softly, nuzzling closer as he scratches his fingers through the fledglings curls, and he reaches down to pull the blankets up over them both. "You'll be asleep in no time. No big bad thunderstorm can take down your uncle Nis."

"Unca Nis protec' me." He yawns around his thumb and hugs his dolphin closer. "I safe."

"Yes you are, close those eyes." Nisroc watches as the little fledgling closes his eyes, as he returns to scratching between his curls, and he nuzzles closer softly. "Now you settle on down, I've got you, you're safe and sound."

It's still storming when he wakes up the next morning, his mattress moves, and he looks up, seeing the Power he'd been sleeping on, Nisroc is still sleeping, the sun is hidden behind the clouds, and he was up late because of his bed time and the storm and not being safe wrapped in someone's strong arms.

Sorath smiles, cuddling back down, feeling those arms curl around him just a bit tighter in return.

He could use a bit more sleep before breakfast.

Maybe they'd get to have pancakes.

He'd ask when they woke up.


	290. Sick Days

"Tzad, are you feeling alright?" He looks up at the sound of his voice. "You've been sniffling for the better part of ten minutes."

"I'm fine." Tzadkiel rubs at his nose. "I just have a bit of a cold."

"You came to work with a cold?" His Warden closes the files he's reading to give the guard his full attention. "Tzadkiel, you can stay home if you're sick, you're encouraged to, in fact."

"It's not too bad." He coughs into his hand. "I can handle it."

"I can see that," he scoots his chair back, climbing to his feet, and steps out from behind his desk. Thaddeus takes the folder from him, he'd been helping him with his paperwork, and sets it aside as he pulls him up. "We're getting you back in bed, mister."

Tzadkiel really doesn't feel good, so he doesn't fight him, as he's guided from the Warden's office, out the door, and around the corner, up the stairs to his quarters upstairs. He knows the Warden's bed is where he's going, to the nice warm and cozy bed, he's so excited, being sick is boring, but the bed is worth it.

Thaddeus opens the door to his room and guides him inside. "Alright, take off those boots."

He nods, bending over to untie his boots, tugging them off and setting them aside next to him.

"Good boy, now, go get in bed."

He nods again, darting away from him, rubbing his nose with his balled-up sleeve, he pulls the blankets back and climbs in, cuddling down against the pillows. Thaddeus smiles down at him, leaning over to feel his forehead, humming to himself. "A bit of a fever, anything else?"

"My belly hurts."

"And an upset belly, alright, I've got just the thing."

He nods, watching the Warden leave him for a moment, for the cabinet on the wall over his desk. He rummages inside for something. Pulling out a small bottle, he turns back, returning to the guards side. Sitting on the edge of the bed, the Warden uncaps the bottle, and holds it out to him. "Drink up."

Tzadkiel nods, opening his mouth slightly, drinking up the contents when the older angel holds the bottle against his lips. It doesn't taste very appetizing, but medicine never does, and he licks his lips as he finishes off the bottle. "Good angel, now," Thaddeus tucks the blankets up under his chin. "I'm going to go get the rest of my files and bring them up, I'll work on them and watch over you at the same time, and you get some sleep."

"Okay, Thaddy."

"Very good." He brushes his curls back and stands from the edge of the bed, dusting his hands off on his thighs, leaving the guard in his bed momentarily. He'll let Sabaoth know so he can run things while he's otherwise indisposed. Tzadkiel cuddles down, he can feel the drowsiness taking over now as his medicine takes effect, the bed is nice and warm, the mattress as soft as a cloud, the blankets nice and warm, thick and comfortable.

His eyes are just starting to droop when the older angel returns, his stack of files he's updating in his hands, and Thaddeus smiles at him when their eyes meet. "Getting sleepy?"

The young guard nods languidly.

"Good." He sets his files down on his desk and returns to his side, most probably to help send him off to sleep, he doesn't mind, sleep sounds nice. The Warden sits back on the edge of the bed, leaning forward to rub his fingers through his curls, and smiles as his eyes droop even more. "Close those eyes, I can see you fighting off that sleep coming your way, don't fight it, let it happen."

Tzadkiel nods, letting his eyes slide shut, and he heaves a large sigh, nodding back against the pillows even more.

He doesn't realize he's fallen asleep until he's gently shaken awake, the sun has set, it's dark outside the window. The lamp on the bedside table is turned on, just as the lamp on the desk is, Thaddeus smiles at him, sitting next to him on the edge of the bed again, feeling his forehead with the back of his hand. "Hey, sleepy head."

The young guard smiles sleepily. "Hi."

"Sleep well?"

He nods slightly. "Mhmm."

"Good, come up, sit up against the pillow, it's time for supper." Tzadkiel nods, scooting up to lean back against the pillows, Thaddeus nods lightly, leaning over to scoop up a bowl off the bedside table, turning back, he sets it to rest in the guards lap. "Chicken noodle soup. Perfect meal for the dreaded cold."

The younger angel looks down at the good-sized bowl of soup. "Is it your homemade chicken noodle soup?"

"Well, of course, none of my loved ones are eating that preprocessed gunk in a can."

"Yay." He loves Thaddy's homemade chicken noodle soup. "Thanks, Thaddy, I love your soup."

His Warden chuckles softly. "You, and everyone else, I learned all my culinary secrets from Nisroc." He rubs his fingers through his curls. "Eat slowly, we don't want you to upset that tummy."

"I will, don't worry." Tzadkiel hums in delight as he takes a spoonful of broth, a piece of chicken and a carrot, the carrot is tender but not mushy and the chicken is moist, the broth seasoned just right. "Mmm." He licks his lips and smiles, filling his spoon again, when a thought occurs to him. "Thaddy," he looks back up. "Am I staying the night?"

Thaddeus nods lightly. "It started raining while you were sleeping, and apparently it's supposed to rain all night, so I talked to Tus, he doesn't want you returning in the rain, so you're staying here, with me, maybe Zophiel, it depends on the kind of day he's had." The boy may be free now, but others could still be cruel, his little Zophi has been being bullied but him and his bed friend have both been quiet tight lipped about it. "So, you eat up, I have a few more files to finish working through, if you want more soup then you just ask, I don't want you leaving this bed for anything other than using the bathroom."

"Okay, Thaddy." He takes another spoonful of soup. "I will."

"Good boy." He pats him on the cheek lightly and stands, returning to his desk to continue on the files he'd been working on, and he heaves a sigh at the sight of them.

Tzadkiel finishes off his bowl of soup and leans over to set the empty bowl on the bedside table, he cuddles back down and sighs, pulling his hands out from under the blankets, he sets them to rest on his stomach, twiddling his fingers silently. He's not very sleepy anymore, his belly is full, and he's bored. "Thaddy?"

"Hmm?"

"Thaddy, will you lay with me?"

Thaddeus turns in his chair to smile at him. "Sure, Tzad, let me get washed up first." Honestly, he'd take any excuse to get away from these files. He pushes his chair back, and rises to his feet, turning to his vanity, he washes his face first, drying himself with a hand towel. He pulls the door to his wardrobe open and reaches in for his night clothes, it's chilly and rainy, so a t-shirt and some sweats will work, and he changes quickly, brushing his hair out, he lets it hang down his back this time, his head hurts from how tight his bun had been. He turns back to his desk, he's down to his last file, he really should get it done.

Sighing, he grabs the file and his pen, and turns towards the bed. Tzadkiel smiles as he crosses around to the other side of the large bed and climbs in next to him, the blankets pooling around his waist, he leans back against the pillows, setting the folder down in his lap, he leans over for the bottle resting on the bedside table, he'd put it there some time after the young guard had fallen asleep.

Turning to the younger angel, he pulls the cap off. "Time to take your medicine."

Tzadkiel makes a face, but leans over, curling his lips around the edge of the bottle, he downs his medicine in one gulp. "Good boy." He smiles, scooting closer, the Warden lifts his arm, and he slides underneath it, resting his head against the side of his chest, he settles down to the feeling of fingers rubbing at his lower back and the sound of a pen scratching over paper.

He's half asleep when the door opens quietly, he can hear it slightly, over the rain beating against the window panes. He peeks his eyes open, watching a boy climb up under the blankets from the end of the bed, the mound moves slowly, crawling up over the Warden, and a head of curls pokes out, as a youngling drapes himself over the top of the Warden.

Thaddeus sighs, pulling his file closer, signing his name on the line, and closes the folder, setting his file and pen on the bedside table. He reaches down, curling his fingers under the boy's arms, pulling him up as he scoots down, resting his head back against his pillows. He kisses the top of his head. "I wish you'd tell me who it was, Zophiel."

"It's okay, papa."

"Not when it hurts you, it's not." He threads his fingers through his curls, scratching at his head lightly. "I could order Qasp to tell me."

"Please don't, papa, I don't want to make them mad."

"If anyone's going to be mad, its going to be me."

"It's okay, papa, I promise."

He hums in distaste, looking up as a large puppy jumps up on the edge of his bed, it's not uncommon for Qaspiel to stay the night with his charge. "Well, if it becomes physical, I expect you to tell me." He'd make Nisroc aware of the situation, if anyone could get him to talk, it would be his beloved papi. "Get some sleep, Zophi."

The boy nods, cuddling down, and Thaddeus kisses him on the head, looking over to the sleeping guard next to him. Tzadkiel mumbles softly in his sleep, and he leans over, pressing a kiss to his warm forehead. As long as it rained, he'd stay here, that's what him and Titus agreed on.


	291. Teaching Body Positivity

"Okay, you wait here." Peliel nods as his oldest brother leaves him, his papa in all but blood, leaving him sitting on the bottom edge of the bed as he walks out of the room. "I'll be right back." This is another attempt at teaching him to like himself, he knows it is, Sabaoth has been doing this too, making him repeat to himself how beautiful he is, it's a slow process, he just doesn't see it like they do.

All he sees is a blob, a nasty ugly blob, staring right back at him in the mirror. He doesn't see anything beautiful.

Titus returns a minute later, he's not alone when he does, Puriel follows in after him, looking seeming confused at the request for him to join them. He looks between them both questioningly, much in the same manner that Puriel looks at the younger Power, and Titus smiles at the two of them evenly. "Thank you both for coming."

"You told me to wait here."

"You said you wanted to talk to me about something in private."

"Right, yes, to both." He turns to his older brother. "You don't mind how you look, right, Puri?"

Puriel smiles, patting his belly lightly. "Not at all. I love me just the way I am."

Titus nods, turning to smile at the guard sitting on the edge of his bed. "Peli, you do mind how you look, don't you?"

Peliel nods lightly, curling his arms around his belly self-consciously. "I don't like it."

The medic frowns lightly, looking over at him, and his captain nods lightly. "Right, that's what I thought." Titus turns back to his older brother. "Puri, would you please teach him some body positivity, you have so much of it, that I feel as though some might rub off from you onto him."

"Okie dokie," he nods lightly. "I can do that." Titus smiles at him. "Thank you Puri," he steps around to the empty side of the bed. "I'm going to lay here and read my book. You guys do your thing."

Puriel nods, stepping up to stand in front of the young guard, crossing his arms loosely. "Okay mister, we're going to do this my way, and my way only. Uncurl those arms."

"But—"

"Uncurl them."

Peliel frowns but does as he's told, slowly uncurling his arms, he rests his hands in his lap, staring up at the Power for his next instruction.

"Okay, now lay back, straight out, head against the pillow."

Peliel nods, scooting back, laying down next to his captain, his papa, his arm rubs against Titus's side.

"Good, now you're in place." He tilts his head as the older Power climbs up over his legs, making himself comfortable, and thoroughly trapping him underneath him. "Let's get this out of our way." He tugs his tunic up, revealing his chubby belly underneath, and he bites his lip as the Power pokes a few fingers into his belly, but despite his attempts, giggles still escape him. "Yes, yes, this'll do just fine. Just fine, indeed." Puriel looks up at him and smiles. "Okay, I want you to tell me one good thing about how you look. Positive. No negative, if I hear you say something negative, this is what you'll get." He wiggles his fingers into his lower belly, and he can't help it, he shrieks slightly, bright bubbly giggles erupting from him. Titus grunts softly next to him, turning the page in his book, when he elbows him in the side slightly. "Do you understand?" He pauses his attack, but his fingers don't move from their position, and his giggles die down softly as he nods. "One positive thing."

The little guard doesn't say anything, and the medic frowns slightly. "This is worse then I thought." Peliel shrugs, nothing comes to mind, all he can think of is negative things. "Okay, I'll go first then, you need to learn. Positive thing number one, tickles, having a big belly means more tickles." He wiggles his fingers back in, and Peliel shrieks, arching his back when those evil fingers wiggle all around, covering every single inch. "And, tickles are the best, that's why they're number one."

Puriel pauses again. "Okay, number two, you're always noticed. You never disappear in a crowd. So that way me and Tus don't have to search for you when it's time for number one." He wiggles his fingers in again and the young guard shrieks with laughter, kicking his legs as best as he can, batting weakly at the Power's hands. "And, it's always time for number one."

"Puhuhuhuhurrihihihihihi! Ahahahahhahaha stohohhohoohhop!"

He halts his assault again, for the moment. "Number three, you never fuss about food. Your palate is always welcome to trying new foods. You enjoy what you eat. If anyone is going to know what's good to munch on, it's going to be you." He moves his hands over to the left side of his belly, and wiggles his fingers in, Peliel shrieks again, leaning over to the right as best as he can, batting at his hands with his right hand. He pulls his hands back around and taps the pads of his fingers over his belly lightly. "Number four, you should never ever feel guilty. You love what you love, and it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, you have as much chocolate cake as your heart desires and you better enjoy every bite of it. Because, you always deserve it. You've always earned it."

Peliel stares at him, his eyes widening as his fingers travel over to the right side of his belly, Titus hums to himself, flipping the page over in his book. He jolts when those mean fingers dig in again, wiggling into the right side of his tummy, and he shrieks, the Power next to him grunts again when his elbow digs into his side slightly, and he reaches over gently to pull his elbow out, before returning to his book. Puriel attacks for a good solid minute before relenting, for another minute, he'd come back to it, he loved this belly, he'd loved it since the young guard was an adorable little fledgling helping him bake all sorts of goodies.

"Number five, you're _great _for cuddles and hugs. You're cushiony. Fluffy. You make a great pillow. And, it's great to do this." He takes a deep breath and buries his face right in the center of his belly, and he squeals, pushing at his head as he blows a deep massive raspberry over his belly button. He turns to the side and blows again, and Peliel squeals once more, shaking slightly from side to side. He blows one last raspberry over the other side of his belly and pulls away, after pressing a kiss to his belly button. "Number six, you look intimidating, it helps you protect your loved ones. No one who really has a brain wants to mess with someone bigger then them. It's survival of the fittest, and you, sir, are the fittest." H

A finger dips into his belly button, and he squeals again throwing his head back, reaching down to curl his fingers in the quilt under him, he's come to the realization that pushing at his hands don't work.

"Number seven, you look absolutely _stunning _in _everything_. You want to wear one of your papa's tunics? You'll look great. You want to wear one of your big brother's tunics? Looking good. You want to try out one of your _favorite _uncle's tunics? You're rocking it." Puriel tugs lightly at the hem of his tunic. "You're definitely doing Saba's tunic justice here."

"Number eight, you give the warmest hugs." His fingers dig into his lower belly, and he jolts again, arching his back, and the medic winds his arms underneath him, wrapping around his waist, and he hugs him, pressing his ear to his belly, he hugs him tightly. "You're the best hugger out of them all." He uncurls from his hug, turning slightly, and rests his chin over his belly, meeting his eyes once more. "Number nine, you have a _great _personality. You can be friends with anyone, you're loyal and protective, once you've made a friend, it's a life long friendship." He winks at him. "I've seen how close you are with Saba, you love him just as much as he loves you."

Puriel sits up on his arms. "And, last but not least, number ten, we make _excellent _cooks. Refined pallets, we know our spices, we know what tastes good. Don't be ashamed of what you eat, I happen to love pie, I have a piece of pie every night before bed."

"He does." Titus interjects softly. "Without fail."

"I eat lots of vegetables and fruits to even it out, my diet is well balanced, to make up for my nightly treat."

Peliel looks up at the Power next to him, Titus smiles down at him, closing his book softly and setting it down in his lap. Then he looks down to the Power laying over his legs, Puriel smiles up at him, pressing another kiss to his belly. "Am I…Am I all those things too?"

They both nod, and his captain reaches over to rub his fingers through his curls. "You're all those things and more, Peli, you're amazing. It pains me to see you think so little of yourself."

"You're one of a kind, little guy." Puriel slowly lifts himself from over his legs, and he tugs his tunic back down, Titus scoots over slightly, he scoots with him, and the medic comes to rest on his other side, he's smooshed between the two of them. "I was bullied too, when I was younger, and you want to know a trick I learned?"

Peliel nods, looking up to the older Power with wide curious eyes, and Puriel smiles lightly, resting back against the headboard. "I learned that I'm in charge of my own life, no one's opinion matter but mine, and if I happen to find the perfect method for revenge, then that's alright too."

"Revenge?"

Titus chuckles softly, looking over to his grinning older brother over the young guards head, and Puriel wags his eyebrows lightly. "Revenge is not what I had in mind."

"Revenge, little guy," the medic curls his fingers around his small hand and gives it a squeeze. "You think I'm a good baker, don't you?" Peliel nods softly. "Well, so do a lot of others. I make my old flock goodies all the time, I make just enough for everyone to have some, everyone but two, my bullies don't get any of my treats." He smiles lightly. "They don't deserve to have them. It's my punishment for them for the way they treated me."

His captain takes his other hand, and he turns to look up at him next, Titus smiles down at him and raises his hand, pressing his lips to his knuckles. "You are a good baker too, Peli, that's why I got you that book, you should make a treat, just enough for all of your friends, and give nothing to your bullies. That's your way of getting back at them. They don't deserve your kind and tasty treat. Arlo is a healer now, you should make enough treats for his entire division to have some, and leave him out, he doesn't deserve something so kind from you."

Peliel stares up at him. "I can do that?"

Titus chuckles softly, pressing another kiss to his knuckles. "I'll approve of that type of revenge."

The medic squeezes his hand and he looks back over to him at his silent request. "I gave you ten positive things about yourself, I want you to come up with ten more by the end of the week, you can ask for help from others, you can do whatever you need to, but I want you to give me ten more positive things you can find about yourself."

"I—I can do that." He nods firmly, more so for himself; he'd try his hardest. "I…I think I have one."

"Oh yea, what's that?"

He takes a deep breath, this isn't easy, but he wants to do it. He wants that sense of accomplishment. "I'm….I'm a good friend."

"That's a great one, Peli! You're an amazing friend!"

Titus hums softly, and he turns to look up at him. "You're a wonderful friend, Peli. You're Saba's truest best friend, Sora adores you, he's always asking when you're going to make more cookies because he wants to help you, he wants to learn how to bake cookies just like you did, he considers you a great friend."

Peliel smiles to himself, cuddling down between them, Titus reaches back over for his book, and Puriel scoots down against the pillows, they'll stay like this a while, they had nothing to do today, and they were in good company.


	292. Rainy Days With Dad

His day starts to the sound of rain beating against the window panes, the sound of thunder rumbling around them, curled up in his father's arms. Lightning lights up the dark gray sky, and he turns slightly, to watch the storm rage around them. Those arms tighten around him slightly, squeezing gently, and he looks back down. His father doesn't open his eyes, but he does lean closer, pressing a small kiss to his forehead. "Go back to sleep, Jordy, we can take a couple more hours, stormy days are for lessons."

"Okay, dad." He settles back down, back under the blanket, tucking himself back under the Power's chin. "For a few more hours."

He wakes next to the feeling of fingers brushing through his curls, and he blinks, the thunder is still rumbling outside, the rain beating against the window panes. He's in a different position, he's been pulled around into a new position, situated laying over his father, his head cushioned against his stomach.

"Good morning, sleepy head." He smiles, still in his sleepy haze, and turns around slightly, resting his chin over his father's chest. "Good morning, dad."

Titus smiles at him, closing the book he'd been reading while he waited for his boy to wake up, and leans over to set it aside. "Sorry we can't train today, I know you were looking forward to sparing me, and losing."

"I woulda won!"

"Only in your dreams, kiddo, only in those dreams."

Jordon nods, smiling slightly, picking at his dad's t-shirt lightly. "What time do your lessons start?"

"Three o'clock. It is currently eleven, so we have four hours, what should we do?"

He smiles up at his dad. "I brought my laptop, I checked the weather, I knew it was supposed to storm all weekend." Titus smiles down at him, ruffling his curls fondly, waiting for him to continue. "Grandpa gave me the wifi password. We could watch a movie. The new Spiderman movie is on Netflix."

"That sounds like a great plan, perhaps we could get some breakfast, find a nice spot amongst the pillows in the Lounge, and watch our movie."

"That sounds really good, dad."

The Power smiles down at his youngest boy, petting his fingers through his curls. "Then, we'd better get up."

The Nephilim boy smiles up at him. "Carry me?"

"Grab your laptop, and you can ride on my back." Jordon jumps up, rolling off the bed, he hears the bed creak lightly as his father turns over the side, rising to his own feet. He squats beside his backpack, reaching inside the main compartment for his laptop, a birthday gift from his dad, and jumps back up. His dad squats slightly, and he takes a running start, jumping up onto the Power's back. He curls his legs around his waist, and his dad curls his fingers under his thighs, turning them towards the door.

The others are all already gone for their lessons, Titus held his so late because he didn't like waking up that early, and Jordon wasn't complaining, that gave him more time to spend with his dad.

Titus carries him out to the kitchen, where he makes them up two bowls of cereal, and then into the Lounge. They find a nice-looking spot, move a few large pillows around, and make themselves comfortable. His dad passes him his bowl, and pulls a large fluffy blanket around them, he situates his laptop on a coffee table they pulled closer to their chosen spot, and then he leans back into his dad's side, taking a bite as the starting credits roll over the screen.

They eat in silence, watching their movie, the volume turned up as loud as it will go so they can hear it over the raging storm outside. Finishing their bowls at the same time, his dad lifts his arm and he slides underneath, cuddling up against his side.

He doesn't realize he's fallen back to sleep until he's being gently shaken awake, and he blinks, sitting up, his dad's arm curled around his waist, and turns to look up at him.

His dad smiles, kissing him on the nose lightly. "You fell asleep."

"Sorry, you're just really comfortable, and the sound of the storm is really calming."

"There's no need to apologize, you came in very late last night, I'd be surprised if you weren't sleepy."

Jordon yawns. "How much longer until you have to go?"

He checks his watch. "Two and a half hours."

"Dad, I'm really sleepy, can we take a nap?"

He chuckles softly, pulling him back up against his side, and leans them back against the pillows. "Sure, we can take a nap."

"Thanks, dad."


	293. A Constant Companion

Haniel hums to himself as he makes his way up the stairs to the Infirmary, he has a meeting to attend, and a hound to collect. It had been a joint decision between them all, while they adored having him at their sides, there was going to arise certain instances where he couldn't be with them, and that's where their plan came in.

He steps up the final stair and makes his way through the great wooden doors, spying out the one he comes in search for, the one they had come to with their request, the one that had agreed to their plan, and had put it into play.

Akriel waves at him when their eyes meet, and he steps around a row of beds to meet him, seated at his desk, leaning back in his chair and twirling a pencil between his fingers.

He tucks his hands into his pockets and slouches forward slightly. "Hey, Ak."

"Hey, Hani, how's Mal doing?"

It had been a rough week for the youngest retired Power. "Not too good. He had a bit of an episode yesterday and accidently burnt Abe, he's locked himself in our room and refuses to come out, I've been forced to sleep in the Lounge."

The mental specialist frowns lightly. "That's no good. This is a great idea, what you're all doing for him, it'll be so much better." He tilts his head, dropping the pencil on his desk. "Is Abe alright?"

"Yea, he's fine." The young Power nods. "It was a small burn, didn't even blister, but it's eating Mal up."

"Good, well," he claps his hands and turns in his chair, waving someone over, and Haniel steps up closer to watch as a young man, around Hasmal's age, makes his way through the crowd towards them. Akriel turns back to him when the young man comes to stand at his side, gesturing up to the younger healer with a wave. "This is Hamon."

"Hello," he leans over to shake the healers hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Same." He smiles up at him. "Hey, Ak."

"Hey, Mon." Akriel smiles up at him, and then back to the Power. "This is your service hound. I trained him myself."

Haniel blinks. "Umm…."

"Oh," the Virtue smacks his palm to his forehead gently. "Right." And turns back to the healer beside him. "Amon, if you would." Hamon nods lightly, his form overcome by a familiar shimmering, and he shrinks, morphing, changing forms, and then a moment later, there stands a hound before him, in place of the young healer stands a hound. Akriel nods, gesturing to him once again, this time he was sure. "There, your hound." He turns back towards his desk, reaching for the left middle drawer, pulling out a red dog vest. "I took the liberty of getting this for you all." He turns, holding it out to the Power, Haniel leans forward to take it. "It's a service dog vest."

"Thanks, Ak, you're the best."

"Hey, I like Mal, he's a kind little guy." Akriel stands. "It's the least I could do."

…

"Mal," he knocks on the door lightly, for the second time. "Mal, can I please come in?"

_"No!"_

"Mal, it was an accident, Abe's okay, please unlock the door."

_"No!"_

"Mal, please, I have a surprise."

There's a pause. _"Is it a good surprise?"_

He smiles lightly, looking down at the large hound sitting beside him. "It's a good surprise, I promise."

There's another pause, and then the lock clicks, and the door cracks open. Soft orange eyes peek out at him, and he smiles at him, pushing at the door slightly. "Let me in, Mal?"

"What if I hurt you?"

"You could never hurt me, Mal, never." He pushes at the door again. "Abe's okay, just a slight singe, he's still up and about."

Those eyes stare at him for a moment, before he nods, and the door opens wider, allowing him inside. Him and the hound step forward, into the room, and he closes the door behind him. Hasmal stares at him, sitting on the edge of his bed, then stares down to the hound at his side. "Hani, who's that?"

Haniel looks down at the hound. "This is Hamon."

"Hamon?"

He nods. "He's your service hound."

"My…service hound?"

He nods again, stepping forward, the hound follows, he sits on the young Power's right side and the hound jumps up to sit on his left. Hasmal turns to look up at him, and Haniel smiles, stroking his hair back. "To be there when we can't be. He's here to help."

Hasmal turns to look at the hound, and it licks him on the nose, he makes a face and rubs his nose lightly. "Thanks, Hani."


	294. A Friendship Like No Other

"Nis, what are you doing?"

"Sshhh." Standing in the middle of the staircase that leads to the Pavilion above, the Captain turns slightly, waving a hand at him, pressing a finger over his lips in the indication to be silent, and he closes his mouth with a soft pop, as the Captain turns back around. "Listen." Silence overcomes them, and in that silence, he hears it. It's soft, melodious, someone tickling the ivories of a piano.

Puriel blinks lightly. "Is that…Is that Mal playing?"

Nisroc nods lightly. "He's the only one up there, well, Hamon's there, but he spends most of his time in hound form."

They listen in for a few minutes. Music fills the air without effort, like the waves filling holes in the beach sand; the sound rushing in and around every person close enough to hear. A lively tempo can lift them, elevate the spirit, or move them to dance, whilst a slow one can relax the mood. Before the notes filled the air, every person was like an island, with it they all feel the same tidal flows and the beginnings of togetherness feels warm.

There are times it feels as if music is teaching the brain how to flow, how to be so peaceful. It's as if the slowly changing tone touches different parts, a sort of auditory massage of the mind. It is an invitation for slowness and to feel the presence of one's self, the ever-patient version of you who waits to be spoken to and is content to do so. There are times light, wind and nature do the same, yet differently, each in their own way. Today is the day of music, to feel the soul within.

"Guys what are—"

They both turn, shushing the one that came up behind them, Titus tilts his head but falls silent as was requested of him, and the melody curls around him in turn. He looks down to his feet, humbled by the soft tones that over come him and wrap him in their embrace, it's a sound that had been missed in these walls for decades, and even now, it was still a rarity.

_'There comes a time, when we heed a certain call, when the world must come together as one.'_

They listen with rapt attention, a small hidden audience, he'd stop if he knew they were listening. His hearts song had left him when he'd been devoured, so it seemed, only a certain few got to hear it.

_'There are people dying, Oh, and it's time to lend a hand to life, the greatest gift of all'_

"Guys—"

The three of them glare down at him, and he raises an eyebrow, swallowing his question. It surrounds him like a blanket, pulling him in a warm embrace, a long lost voice he hadn't known was gone.

_'We can't go on, pretending day-by-day, that someone, somewhere soon make a change, we're all a part of God's great big family, and the truth, you know, love is all we need.'_

"Is that Mal?" They nod down at him, and Abraxos nods in turn, looking down to his hands, he used to play all the time, his music would echo around their living space, it had been extinguished by the Darkness. Father may have reconciled with Her, but they'd never forgive Her, not for what She had taken from them. "I missed this."

"Us too."

_'We are the world, we are the children, we are the ones who make a brighter day, so let's start giving. There's a choice we're making, we're saving our own lives, it's true we'll make a better day, just you and me.'_

The melody changes, he's changing songs, and they step up another stair to listen closer, Nisroc is high enough that he can see them sitting at the piano, their back's facing them, Hamon's tail wagging lazily.

"Hey, what are we doing here and no—"

They all turn, shushing the new arrival, and Haniel pops his mouth closes. The one nearest him, Abraxos, mimes with his fingers playing the keys of a piano, and points up the stairs. He's good at making hand signals out, and the young Power nods lightly.

He whispers this time. "Maly is playing?"

The older Power nods and jerks his chin upwards, toward the Lounge above them, and the soft sound of the notes twirl around them to their own dance, to an invisible unfelt wind.

_'Come on skinny love just last the year, pour a little salt we were never here, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my.'_

He hasn't grown rusty, not in the slightest, not like he said he thinks he has. His music is still as beautiful as ever, his voice was still just as soft and sweet, his playing still as solid and melodious.

_'I tell my love to wreck it all, cut out all the ropes and let me fall, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, right in the moment this order's tall.'_

They all listen in silence, standing on the stairs, listening to something they hadn't heard in nearly forty thousand years. The relish in it, soak it up greedily, in case this was the last time they ever heard it again.

_'And I told you to be patient, And I told you to be fine, And I told you to be balanced, And I told you to be kind, And in the morning I'll be with you, but it will be a different kind, and I'll be holding all the tickets, and you'll be owning all the fines. Come on skinny love, what happened here?~'_

_…_

Hasmal giggles softly as he turns his head from side to side, the warm tongue following him every which way, licking away at his cheeks, ears, and neck. "Mon, stop!" The hound barks softly, nuzzling it's snout over the side of his neck, and he giggles harder, pushing at the large hound weakly. "Mon, stop, that tickles!"

He turns his head to the left, trying to lean away from him, and a paw presses over his cheek, keeping him from turning back, as the warm tongue begins to lap at the side of his neck again, this time with more space and easier access. He shrieks softly when he pokes his nose over his neck, both, at the cool feeling, and the way it gets him, he curses himself for being so ticklish, and then the hound returns to licking. "Mon, please! I can't take it!" He giggles feverishly, trying to turn his head back around, the hound growls lowly, nibbling at his neck, and he shrieks softly once more. "Mon! Mon, stop! Eehehehehehehe! Not thahahat! Not that!" The hound barks softly, and returns to his licking, tilting his head to get back behind his ear, where he knows full well is particularly sensitive, and Hasmal curses Nis for telling him all about those little spots and where to find them, and then curses himself for cursing him, Nis has like, a sixth sense, when it comes to people cursing him, and he has a particular punishment he finds suitable enough for such an offence, and he does not want to face such a punishment today.

"Mon, please, I'm sorry for being so grumpy! Eehehehehehhe! I'm sorry!" The hound barks and pokes it's nose back behind his ear, that's a special spot, it gets him the worst, and Mon knows that very well, thanks to Nis. "Stop! Stop! Eeehehehehhehehe! Mon! Not theehehehere! Not there!" The hound doesn't stop though, he's undeterred, and his mercy seems to be in short supply at the moment, so Hasmal finds he can only just lay there and take it.


	295. A Little Cuddle Bug

He presses his face into his hounds soft furry neck, his eyes closed, his arm curled around the hound resting on it's side. Hamon moves slightly, leaning down to lick his fingers, and tilts his head back and around. "I'm cold, Mon." The hound barks softly, squirming slightly, rolling around, forcing him to roll over with him, and rolls around to lay over top of him. His paws rest over his shoulders, and they stare at each other for a moment, before the hound leans over and swipes a big lick over his face. "Aww, Mon, eeewwww!" Hasmal rubs at his face with his free hand, and curls his arms around the hound's neck, Hamon lays his head down, letting the retiree bury his face into his neck again. "You're warm."

They lay like that for a good twenty minutes, before their stomach's growl in unison, and Hasmal unwinds from around him. Their eyes meet again. "Let's go get breakfast." He thinks for a moment. "And steal one of Puri's sweaters on the way."

…

It was not uncommon, in the colder months, for him to work on paperwork around a body sitting in his lap, usually asleep or close to it, so he was very adept in continuing on as though he was not being interrupted. He'd rub at their back with one hand and fill out the paperwork with the other, after raising as many young ones as he has, one becomes adept in any sort of situation.

He burned just as warm as the younger angel did, he was rarely cold, unlike the other, they often joke that he's their personal space heater, the younger one is not the only one who likes cuddling up with him, he finds it all amusing, they're all lucky he's as fond of them as he is, and that he's a good spirit.

"Comfortable, firefly?"

"Mhmm." Nisroc feels him yawn against his shoulder. "Warm."

"Good, good," he presses a kiss to the side of his head. "Are you going to take a nap?"

"Mhmm."

…

"Okay, one more thing." He makes a face as a winter cap is pulled down over his head, he'd told him he was cold, it was his own fault. "There, all done." The elder steps back to admire his work, smiling to himself, it's kind of funny, in a cute sort of way, he's pouting at him from over a thick scarf. "Hey, you said you were cold."

Hasmal gives him a dull look, looking down to his mitten covered hands, over the scarf wrapped around his head, above the long sweater sleeves rolled up around his wrists, and he looks down passed his mitten covered hands to his feet, wrapped up in tight thick socks, peering out from under the large winter cap pulled over his head.

He looks back up. "Puri, this is not what I wanted."

The medic chuckles softly. "It's not?"

"No."

Puriel opens his arms, uncrossing them, and smiles at the young retiree. "Want some cuddles?"

Hasmal smiles, laughing softly at the _'manly' _shriek the older angel lets out as he plows into him, curling his arms around him tightly, pressing his ear to his chest, and tackles him backwards onto his bed. Puriel curls his arms around him, squeezing him gently, and chuckles again. "I guess I deserved that."

…

He smiles, cuddling closer to his thigh, pressing his nose into the side of his thigh, listening to the smooth sound the strumming cords make. Abraxos plays the best soft tones, they roll right over you, sometimes, when he's having a bad night, he'll play for him until he falls asleep. Those are the best nights.

Nice and warm, cuddled against his older brother under his blanket, he sighs softly, closing his eyes.

Abe knows how to make him fall asleep, he's perfected it, it's been patented.

…

"Nice and warm?" He nods happily, rubbing his cheek against his older brothers chest, closing his eyes to the feeling fingers running through the hair on the back of his head. "Good." The fingers disappear for a moment as the blankets pulled up over his shoulders.

"You're the best, Tus."

Titus smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "And, don't you forget it."

…

Haniel joins him soon after supper, both retreating to their room where the fireplace is roaring and the room is nice and toasty, his younger brother has already slipped into one of his sweaters, him and Mon are laying backwards on the bed. Hasmal's feet rest on his pillow, Hamon is laying on his back, and the fire angel is doodling in his book.

"What kind of shenanigans are you documenting now?"

"Me and Mon moved all the things in Nis's office five inches to the right this morning when he was outside introducing himself to the newbies."

"That was you!" Haniel feels slightly betrayed. "He blamed that on me!"

"No one ever suspects the quiet ones."

"I can't believe you would betray me like this!" The Power falls over onto his side of their conjoined beds. "Just for that, you get no cuddles."

"That's fine, I'll just cuddle up with Hamon."

"What! You won't cuddle up with me?"

"You're the one who said I wasn't getting any."

"I take it back! You get all the cuddles!"


	296. Caused Such Silence

They waited anxiously outside the closed doors of the Throne Room, they'd been closed since the day Father returned, with Aunt at His side. There was rumors going around that the reason the doors were closed was because He was having Her return what She had so cruelly taken from them, but nothing could be confirmed, not until certain persons were called forth.

Then the call came for them to come, and they had dropped what they were doing, well, technically, it had been Nisroc who had been called, but they did everything as a unit, so when one was called, they considered it a call for all of them.

They waited on baited breath, to see the reason as to why they were called here, to see if the rumors were true, there was so many reasons they could have been called there, and they hoped it was for the one thing there was no evidence of.

Nisroc stood there, staring at the door, his hands curled together tightly, waiting for the guards to open them, so he could see what waited just beyond them, while the others murmured to each other, shifting uneasily.

They all come to a dead silence when the Throne Door begins to open, staring straight ahead, wanting to see what it was they were called here for. Father's back is to them, but they know He knows they're there, and they walk in when the guards gesture for them to do so and stop when they gesture for them to do so too, close, but not too close.

Father straightens, and from His other side, appears the Healer. Raphael spots them at once, and he sends them a saddened look, before returning his gaze to the one Father is standing before. He says something, it's a whisper, and none of them know how to read lips. Father stands, peering over His shoulder, and smiles at them as they stand there.

Nisroc licks his lips nervously, curling his fingers tightly together, and nods to Him. "Nisroc, thank you for coming."

"Of course, Father," he chances a step forward. "But, Father, why did you want to see me?"

"I thought it appropriate to send for you." He turns back around, looking down to whatever awaits on His other side, before returning His gaze to the Captain behind Him. "To return what was yours."

"To return what was mine?"

"Yes," He smiles at him, and steps aside, revealing what had been behind Him. "I'm sure you'll recognize him."

"Him?" His eyes widen as He steps aside, family blue eyes look up to meet his, and he falls short, it's like his entire world has come to a sudden stop. Everything just halts and he stares. "M—Maly?"

The others simply stare, that's what the younger angel does too, eyes wide and alert, staring each one of them down. He might not recognize them, they'd all went through so many changes since the last time he'd seen them, they were older, for one, and he hadn't changed a day. Still that eighteen-year-old little guy that had been their newest Elect. He'd barely been an Elect for more than two weeks.

Father watched them with sad eyes as the Healer leaned over to whisper in the Returned's ear. Hasmal stared at them as he spoke in a soft whisper, nodding his head slightly, his eyes return to whom had once been his Captain. He looked so different now. His beard was fuller, bigger, his hair was longer, there was a slight peppering of gray intermixed in there. He was bigger, taller, more filled out, then he remembered.

They all looked so different now.

Time had frozen for him, but it had kept moving for them.

"Nis?"

The Power nods lightly, smiling softly, opening his arms slightly. "It's me, Maly, it's me."

Hasmal goes back to staring at him silently, to his shining eyes and his open arms, and he slides down off the bed, stumbling as he falls to his feet, standing is something he's still getting used to again, and nods softly when Father inquires if he's alright. Those large hands let him go, and he takes a shaky step forward, the other watch as he steps forward, to meet their young Elect half way, and the younger angel finally trips over, collapsing in his open arms. He sweeps him in close, curling himself around the younger angel, cradling the back of his head, holding him as close as he can manage, feeling his warmth pressed against him. He hadn't had the chance to show him just how much he loved him when he'd been made an Elect, he'd been so busy, Father had just declared war on Aunt, he hadn't had the time, and he'd always regretted not making some, he always would, because not too long afterwards, he'd been taken from them.

"I missed you so much, Maly." He whispers above him, holding on to him tightly, the younger angel holding on equally as so. "I missed you so much."

Hasmal doesn't say anything in return, which worries him, he simply buries his face deeper into his chest, his fingers clutching at the back of his tunic as tightly as they can muster. He doesn't realize it until then, but it comes to him, that this must be so overwhelming, they're all older then he remembers, looking so different then the last time he'd seen them, everything had changed so much since he'd last stepped foot in his home. The Morningstar was back, truly himself again, him and Michael had reconciled, the Messenger had returned shortly after, the Council reunited at last. It must all be so hard to take in at once.

"I'm so happy you're home again." He presses his lips to the top of his head. "Back where you belong."

The younger angel whispers at last. "I missed you too."

"I'm never letting you go again."

"Promise?"

He nods lightly, but firmly, and turns his head, pressing his cheek to the top of the boy's head. "Promise. Never again."

Hasmal nods against him, curling closer, and he pulls him in as much as he can, he's already so close, there's nearly no more room to pull him into. "You're warm."

Nisroc frowns lightly. "You're cold?" He's made from fire, the hottest fire in the Heaven's, an exploding star, being cold was cause for concern. The younger angel nods again. Father looks over to His Healer, and Raphael nods once, turning his attention to the Power. "His core is going to run on the cold side for a while to come, being in the vacuum of the void, it left him burning himself out to stay warm. We don't know if he'll ever truly be able to continually keep himself heated anymore, only time will tell, for the meantime, make sure he bundles up to stay warm."

He nods. "We'll make sure he's nice and bundled up."

"Good." The Archangel smiles at him. "Take him home."

…

They come to find the true extent of the damage within the first week of his return, when he wakes them all in the middle of the night screaming bloody terror, they all jumps, rolling from their beds, rushing to the room on the end, throwing the door open, to see the young fire angel thrashing on the bed, kicking and struggling with the blanket wrapped around his legs. Nisroc pushes his way through the crowd at his door, entering the room silently, and steadies the younger angel with a hand pressed to his chest. "Mal, Maly, it's okay, it's just the blanket, hang on, just a moment." He pulls at the blanket, untangling it from his legs, pulling it free, he leans over to set it next to him on the bed.

Hasmal shoots up, flinging himself at the older Power, curling around him tightly, and he curls his arms around him tightly, pressing his face against his shoulder, he turns around slightly, sitting on the edge of the bed, he pulls him down into his lap. "It's alright, you're alright." He rocks him gently, listening carefully as he breathing calms down, slowly but surely. He looks up to the others in the doorway. "Haniel, light the fireplace." The youngest Power nods, stepping into the room to prepare the fire, and he turns his attention to another. "Titus, get a few candles."

They should have thought about it sooner, it should have occurred to them sooner rather then later, that perhaps having him sleep in the dark was a bad idea.

Titus scatters a few candles around the room, lighting each one as he goes, and soon a nice glow lights up the four corners of the room. The heat from the fireplace is a comforting presence, like a warm blanket being wrapped around them, and he pets his hand down the back of the youngest's head. "Maly, Maly look, can you see?"

Hasmal peeks out from over his shoulder, his wide terrified eyes scanning around the room silently, and he nods lightly, he can see, it's not so dark anymore.

"You need to get more sleep." He scratches lightly at his scalp, the younger angel shakes his head, clutching to him like a small fledgling does it's guardian. "No, no, it's alright, you're alright. I'm going to sleep with you, alright, let's lay back against those pillows, it's alright, easy does it." Turning them slightly, he leans back against the pillows, settling the younger angel over his chest, he reaches over for the blanket next to them and pulls it up over them. "There we go, see, it's alright, I've got you, you're alright."

The young angel peeks out from under his arm, spotting his brothers in the doorway, they smile at him and wave softly. He hears the inhale and exhale that's made with every breath under his ear rumbling in Nisroc's chest. He hears it all.

"Nis, I have an idea." Hasmal watches Abraxos step through the crowd of bodies in his doorway, his old worn guitar in hand, and turns his desk chair around to sit, resting the bottom edge against his thigh, he strums the cords softly. "Close your eyes, Maly, just relax and listen."

Hasmal nods lightly, closing his eyes gently, resting his ear against the Captain's chest, listening to beat of his heart and strum of the guitar, they mix together in a perfect sort of harmony. His breathing slowly evens out, and Nisroc feels it when he falls back to sleep, still, he continues to rub at his head lightly and Abraxos strumming at his guitar, they'll continue on for another couple of minutes, just to make sure he stays asleep.

They combined his and Haniel's rooms the next day.

…

"Alright, all bundled up and warm?" The Captain places his hands on his hips lightly as he looks over their Returned youngster, decked out in one of his sweaters, much too big on his slight frame, a cap and some mittens, fall was fast approaching, and they weren't taking any chances.

Hasmal nods, his mitten covered hands curled up in front of his chest, and he smiles at him gently. "Good, let's go get some breakfast." He holds his hand out to the youth, and he curls his mitten covered hand around his fingers, stepping forward with him as he guides him from the room.

"Nis?" he hums at the call of his name, sitting the younger angel down at the table, he prepares a bowl of oats for him. Nothing better for a cool autumns morning. "Why am I still here?"

He turns, setting the bowl down before him, with a spoon, and turns back to pour him a glass of milk. He'll settle on an apple himself. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Why am I still up here?" Hasmal takes a bite of his oatmeal and hums in delight, apples and cinnamon, his favorite, Nisroc remembered. "I can't be a regular warrior, let alone a _Power_, why am I still here?"

"Because, Maly," he takes his apple, washes it in some water, and takes a bit as he sits across from him at the table, tapping the rim of the bowl, indicating for him to take another bite. "Once you're one of us, you're _always_ one of us, it makes do difference on the '_technicalities'_. You're a part of our family, and you'll always be a part of our family, nothing will change that." He smiles at him softly. "You're still our baby boy."

"But I'm useless. I'm a burden now. I don't have a place of my own anymore." Hasmal looks down to his bowl of oats. "I can't even _sleep_ by myself."

"Hey now," Nisroc lifts his head back up with a finger under his chin. "I happen to know Hani _loves _cuddling up with you at night. You're no burden, we don't mind taking care of you, not one bit. We all love you just as much as we did the day we met, if not more, you mean the world to us, Maly, never doubt that." He retracts his finger, after stroking it down his nose lightly, and takes another bite of his apple. "Your place is right here with us, where it's always been, there's no other place you belong then with your family." He nods to the bowl and the youth takes another bite as he's silently instructed. "You're still our little firefly, still our little musician, we've missed hearing you play, it's been far too quiet around here. You're still Hani's best friend. Puri's favorite little play thing. Tus's reading companion. Abe's cuddle buddy. And, my Baby Power. Nothing will ever change that, nothing will ever change your place in our hearts, no matter what."

"You mean it?" He takes another bite, this time without prompting, he has a knew sense of belonging and it brings him enough courage to eat his own meal. "You're not just saying that?"

"No, you know I've never been one to say meaningless things, everything I say has meaning, I didn't before you were taken, and it hasn't changed since." He takes another bite of his apple. "I mean every word. You belong here, and you always will, no matter what you can or can't do, you don't need to have a use for us to love you, you just have to be yourself."

Hasmal smiles at him, swallowing another bite of his oatmeal. "Thanks, Nis." He takes another bite. "I'm really happy to be home. It was…..I didn't like it there…It was…I'm just really happy to be back."

"We're overjoyed that we have you back with us again, Maly." The Power smiles at him, taking a final bite from his apple, and tosses the core over into the waste basket. He'd put it in the compost pile later, Titus had a green thumb, he used it for his garden. "Overjoyed is an understatement. I can't think of a word to use to express appropriately just how happy we are." He crosses his arms over the edge of the table and leans forward, nodding to the bowl again, he'd get him to eat the entire thing before they left this table, he had always been much too thin, it was still his personal mission to get some meat on those bones. Hasmal takes another big bite, scooping up a small piece of apple this time, and munches on it silently and happily. "Maly, I don't want to push you into anything, but if you ever need, or want, to talk about it, we're all here for you. We do things together in this family, and you're not alone, you don't have to deal with this on your own. We're here to help you, if you allow us to, when you need us. You just have to come and ask, we're always available for you, no matter what we may be doing. We will always put you first, above all else, always and forever."

He takes the last bite of his oatmeal, and reaches for his glass of milk, gulping it down quickly. "I know." He sets his glass down and looks down to his mitten covered hands. "Thanks, Nis."

"Always, baby Maly, you just have to let us in when you need us." Nisroc takes his empty bowl and glass, standing from his chair, and walks around to put them both in the sink, pouring a bit of water into the bowl to let it soak. "You ready to go?"

Hasmal nods, standing from his own seat, he steps around behind it, and pushes it in. "Ready."

"Good." Nisroc raises his hand again, and he curls his mitten covered fingers around his hand, the Power pulls him in close, as he walks them from the kitchen towards the stares. "It's just a normal lesson today, I could use an assistant."

"Nis." Hasmal stops on the fourth step down, and tugs him to a halt, he looks up at him inquiringly. Hasmal takes a moment to find his words. "What if…What if they start whispering….What if they start talking about _that_…..What if they start asking questions?"

"Then, I'll shut them down. No one will talk about _that, _if they know what's good for them, if you hear anything you just tell me." He squeezes his fingers comfortingly. "And, if you get uncomfortable or overwhelmed, Titus is working on paperwork in his office, you can always join him, he'd be glad to have your company."

"Okay, Nis." He nods, and they continue on their way down the stairs, and turn around the corner down the hall that housed the barracks. "Nis?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you play the piano for me later?"

He smiles down at him, squeezing his fingers again. "Only if you play with me."

Hasmal gives him a small smile and nods. "Okay."

Nisroc knocks on the door to his trainees barrack, and gives a moment, sparing his youngest brother an amused glance. "Give them a moment to get to their correct places." Hasmal smiles slightly, nodding in turn, his nerves are too much for anything else. This is his first excursion out in the public, for others to see, the entire last week had been just him and his older brothers and no one else. He squeezes his fingers again, and the younger angel looks up at him, he smiles down at him comfortingly. "It'll be alright. You stay with me. I'll keep you safe."

He nods, watching as the older angel reaches out to twist the door handle, and push the door open. They step inside, and he hides slightly behind his shoulder, clutching his hand tighter. The trainees stare at him, he can feel it, and whispering picks up between them. Nisroc squeezes his hand firmly, comfortingly, and glares them all into silence. Guiding the younger angel to the desk up front, the one that he uses himself during lessons, he gently guides him down to sit in the desk chair, pushing it up against the desk.

He curls his fingers over the young angel's shoulders. "I want you all to pull out your study books and complete lesson five." Some of them groan but they all do as they're told, pulling out their work books, they flip to the aforementioned chapter, and being their work silently.

Hasmal looks up at him, and he smiles down at him, stroking a hand down the back of his head, speaking softly for only him to hear. "Like I told you, if you get overwhelmed, you just tell me, and I'll take you down to stay with Tus."

"Okay, Nis." He nods up at the Captain. "Am I still allowed to doodle?"

Nisroc smiles. "Of course you are, papers in the top right drawer, and the pens are in the middle drawer."

…

"Puri?" The medic looks up from the book he was reading, reclined in his bed, and smiles at the one in the doorway. Despite wearing one of Nisroc's sweaters and a pair of mittens, Hasmal still has a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, he's nice and toasty now. "Can I talk to you?"

Puriel had been the one to Elect him as a Power, he'd taken the time out of his busy week to watch him through training, and decided he was good enough for the open position. In a way, he feels as though he's let him down, being too weak to fend off Aunt's attack.

Just thinking about Her send a chill down his spine, and he shivers softly, curling his fingers tighter in his blanket.

Puriel smiles, nodding his head, closing his book, he turns to set it on the bedside table, and turns back, patting the spot next to him on the bed. Treading forward, Hasmal slowly makes his way from the doorway to the side of the bed, and sidles up against the Power's medic, ducking under his arm when he lifts it form him, smooshing against his side warmly and safely. "Sure you can, Maly, what are we going to talk about?"

"I…I wanted to talk about…..Talk about _that_."

It had been a subject they all wanted him to talk about, so they could deal with this all together, but they hadn't wanted to push it, wanting him to talk about it in his own time. "Are you sure? We don't have to if you're not ready."

"No, no…." He nods lightly. "I'm ready. I—I…I want to talk about _it_."

"Okay, take your time, there's no rush." He rubs at his arm lightly. "We move at your own pace."

"Okay…" The younger angel nods lightly, looking down to his mitten covered hands, he was always so cold now, he was always bundled up, the mitten's were Haniel's and they were too big for him, but they were soft and warm, and when he held his hands up to his nose, they smelled like his older brother, and when things became overwhelming, it was a comforting thing. "It was really dark in _there_. Really, really, _dark." _Puriel nods quietly, rubbing his arm again, squeezing him close for a moment in comfort. "And…. And, it was _really _cold. I spent most of my time on fire, trying to stay warm, until…... Until I couldn't light up anymore…. It was like…. It was like something was taken from me….. Something that made me whole… And when I couldn't light up anymore, it got even more cold, it started to hurt, like little daggers poking into my skin…." As though to ensure he was warm now, Puriel pulls the blanket around him even more snug, pulling his own up over them, holding him closer. "It was….. _Nothing _but _darkness, _Puri, it was so _dark_. I was suspended in the void of darkness and couldn't even see my own _hand _right in front of my face." He pulls him in close again, squeezing him against his side, as he leans over to press his lips to the side of his head comfortingly. "Sometimes….. Sometimes She would let in specks of light, forms would appear, I could barely see them, and they'd call my name. They sounded like you guys. They'd call for me, telling me to come to them, and I'd run. I'd run as hard as I could, thinking it was you guys, thinking you'd found a way to free me, and I'd run, I'd _run _as fast as I could." He leans over, wiping away cool tears as they drip from his eyes, rubbing his cheeks clear with his fingers. "And, when I'd get there, it looked like you guys, it sounded like you guys, but the eyes, the _eyes_, they were nothing but _darkness_. It was a trick, every time, and I fell for it again and again. _Again and again._" Hasmal falls silent, choking on a breath, as more tears fall from his burnt orange eyes, they fall faster then the medic can clean them up, so he gives up, waiting for him to get it all off his chest so he can comfort him properly. "And, She'd laugh, She'd laugh so _hard_, like it was amusing to Her, to watch me suffer and breakdown. She'd _laugh _as I screamed for help, as I screamed for you guys to come get me, as I just _screamed _myself hoarse, begging for someone to come, and then She'd laugh as I cried, as I sobbed so hard I nearly made myself sick, when no one came, when the only sound I could hear was my own, and Her cruel laughter, and then it would all fall _silent_. So suddenly. Just _silence_." He looks up at him with tear filled eyes, utter hopelessness shining in his eyes, devastation, deep gut wrenching hurt. "I—I-I…I begged Father to let me die….I couldn't take it anymore….It was suffocating….I begged Her to _kill _me and She'd only laugh some more…..I _begged _Puri….I _begged _for it…..I wanted to _die_…..I—I-I…..I wanted to _die _and be reborn….I didn't care what happened to me after….I just wanted it to _end_…..It was wrong of me, I _know_, it was wrong, and I let you _down_….But I _couldn't_ take it anymore….I just wanted out…..I—I just wanted out of the darkness….."

His heart breaks when his words dissolve into sobs. "Oh, Maly, little baby Maly." He carefully secures his grip around him, and pulls him around, pulling him up over top of him, laying him down over his chest, wrapping one arm around his lower back and curling the fingers of his free hand through the hair on the back of his head, rubbing comfortingly at his scalp as he cried into his chest. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for all you've suffered, if we could take it from you, all of it, any of it, we would. We'd bare it a thousand times over if it meant keeping you safe from it's harm." He rubs his thumb over the skin just under his ear. "You haven't let me down, I understand, you could never let me down. I stand by my choice, even now, I would never take back electing you, I stood by it then and I stand by it now. You haven't ever let me down. I've never second guessed the decision I made about you, I never have, and I never will, never ever. You're still my Elect. Our Baby Power. That's still only for you." He pets his hand down the back of his head gently, cooing down at him softly, urging his tears to a stopping point, assuring him that everything was okay.

Slowly, his tears calm down, calming down into soft hiccups, wheezing through his nose softly. He reaches for the hankie cloth on his bedside table and curls it around the youth's nose gently. "Give a nice blow, Maly." Hasmal blows his nose, and he wipes it clean, folding the hankie over, he wipes his face clean. "Come on, Maly, let's go join the others in the Lounge, we'll all curl up together and sleep there for the night, I'll make some of my special hot chocolate, with the whipped cream topping and tiny marshmallows, just like how I know you like it, and we'll get Nis to play the piano for us, he'd play for you anytime you want, and we'll all stay there together, curled up next to the fire, with dozens of candles lighting the room around us in their soft light, for the whole night, and watch the snow fall out the windows and tell stories, until you fall asleep, nice and surrounded, all warm and toasty, with your family all around you."

Hasmal sniffles softly, nodding his head, sitting up slightly. "I…I want that."

Puriel smiles up at him, poking him on the nose lightly, drawing a small smile from him, it's a bit wobbly, but they can build from there. "Then, let's go."

"Will you carry me?"

He nods lightly, patting his cheek gently. "If you let me get up." Hasmal climbs off of him. "Do you want a pair of my wool socks?"

"Yes, please."

The medic nods, sitting up, turning over the edge of the bed, and stands. He makes his way around the bed for his wardrobe, reaching into the bottom drawer, and tosses him a pair of woolen socks. Hasmal sits on the edge of the bed to pull them on his feet, they're big, and fluffy, perfect for his small feet.

Puriel closes the drawer and crosses back to his side, pulling him up to his feet, he tugs the blanket around him firmly, and curls his fingers around his higher ribs, just under his armpits. "Hop up." He nods, hopping up from the floor, and the medic grunts slightly as he lifts him up, pulling him close, he wraps his legs around the Power's waist and his arms around his neck, resting his chin on his arm, their cheeks pressed together, Puriel rubs at his back gently and turns them around towards the door. "Let's go."

In the Lounge, with all the others already gathered around talking jovially, he's settled down on the cushions between Titus and Abraxos, they don't pause in their conversation with Nisroc and Haniel, but they scoot closer to him, pulling another blanket up over him, smooshing him slightly between them, curling their arms around his lower back.

He smiles as Puriel pets his hair back gently and stands, heading for the kitchen, to prepare his special hot chocolate, like he knows he likes, with the tiny marshmallows and whipped cream topping and everything, and he leans over, resting his head against Abraxos' shoulder. He pauses for a moment, letting Titus reply this time, turning slightly to press a firm kiss to the side of his forehead, squeezing his right hip lightly, before responding in turn.

Hasmal smiles slightly at the feeling of his quick, but firm, fond kiss. Warm and safe between two of his older brothers, blankets wrapped around him, soft wool socks on his feet, soft fluffy mittens on his hands, and the crackling of the fire under the soft conversation taking place above his head. He looks over to their Christmas tree, lights twinkling and ornaments shimmering in the candles fire light, boxes wrapped in silver and gold paper under the tree, waiting to be opened come morning. His first Christmas back with his family, that's the only gift he'd ever want, in his entire life time, he eyes the boxes silently, there's more then he remembers there usually being, he thinks most of them are probably for him, they've been showering him since he got back.

Hani had told him, a couple days ago, curled up together in their large king sized bed, two candles flickering beside them, one on both bedside tables, that his favorite gift this year, his most favorite, was finally having him back again, and it had filled him with such warmth, like nothing he had felt before, and had made him cry softly, knowing that he'd been missed that much.

His attention is pulled away from the boxes and his thoughts when the medic returns, a tray of large mugs in his hands, he stops first at Nisroc's side, offering him one, the Captain thanks him softly and picks one out from the cluster. He holds his tray out to Haniel, the younger Power's eyes widen and he licks his lips excitedly, thanking him quickly and scoops up his own mug. He moves over to them, holding the tray out between the three of them, both Titus and Abraxos thank him softly, taking up their own mugs, and Hasmal smiles, his eyes shining with excitement, it would be a sad sight, to see him so brightened by something as simple as hot chocolate, but they're trying not to focus on the sadness, it's there, but they rather focus on the happiness.

Tis the season for happiness and family.

He takes his mug, thanking him softly in turn, and takes a quick sip. The others watch him, their conversation having fallen silent to see him take his first sip, his first sip of his favorite hot chocolate after nearly forty thousand years. Hasmal hums softly in pleasure, it burns his tongue softly, it's still fresh out of the kettle, but he can deal with the burn for the taste, it's rick and thick and warm. He pulls his mug away, cradling it in his hands, and looks up when he hears them chuckle softly. Going cross eyed, he watches Titus reach over from his right side to swipe up the whipped cream topping from over his upper lip with his thumb. He licks it off his thumb quietly and squeezes his left hip lightly.

Puriel takes a seat on Nisroc's other side, scooping up a bit of the high piled whipped cream topping and licks it off his finger, smiling at him as he takes another sip, and licks the whipped cream topping from his upper lips this time. "Like it?"

He nods lightly, smiling at him in return, the small isn't too big, none of his smiles have been since he got back, they're still working on it, it's an adjustment period right now, but it's bigger then all his previous smiles, and they count that as progress. "It's really yummy, thanks, Puri."

The medic smiles at him warmly. "You're most welcome, Maly." He turns to his Captain next to him. "Nis, would you give us the honor of playing the piano for us, Maly would much appreciate it."

Nisroc hums softly, mid sip of his own mug of hot chocolate, wiping the whipped cream topping off his upper lip and sticking his finger in his mouth to suck it off. "Are you using baby Maly as a method to persuade me?"

"Please, big brother?" Hasmal cuts in softly before Puriel can respond, and they both look over at him, smiling in unison at his little pout, it's adorable, they missed it, his lower lips stuck out slightly, knowingly leaving the white mustache of fluffy whipped topping on his upper lip. Abraxos and Titus snort at his sides. Haniel nods in approval, he's taught the youngest of them all he knows, but Hasmal brought some of his own tricks to the table, the pout was something of his own crafting. "For me?"

Nisroc chuckles softly, shaking his head at them, taking another sip from his mug, and then he leans forward, setting his mug down, it'll stay nice and warm endlessly, and pushes himself to his feet. "Now, how can I say _'no'_ to that?"

Hasmal smiles in triumph, a new kind of smile they haven't seen since he got back, and they all exchange looks of accomplishment over his head.

Their Captain sits at the piano and cracks his fingers. "I'll play for a little bit, because baby Maly asked so nicely, and then we can watch a movie."

They didn't indulge in modern technologies often, but it was the holiday season, and a special one at that, having their Maly back with them, so they'd indulge a little bit.


	297. Keeping Things Lighthearted

Hasmal knew it was going to be a rough day from the very start of it, right from the moment he woke up, he knew it wasn't going to be a good day, not even Hamon's company made him feel better, it did nothing to alleviate the feeling of impending doom. It was like he was stuck in a thick dark storm cloud and boy did he hate storms, too dark for his taste, he doesn't like the dark, it sends a shiver down his spine just thinking about it.

He dresses slowly, taking his time, he's in no rush, as is usually the case with the retired life. Brushing his hair back over his shoulders, clipping his bangs back behind his ear, he turns to his hound, Hamon tilts his head as though waiting for him to speak his mind. "Ready?"

The hound barks, rising, and jumps off his bed. The young Returned turns towards the door, curls his fingers around the handle, and pulls it open. The hall is quite, the others are already gone for the day, and he sighs as him and his hound make their way down the hall. He didn't mind the life he lived, he still had his older brothers, he was home again, right where he belonged, but sometimes it got lonely being the only one with nothing to do.

Nisroc is still sitting at the table, his lessons aren't until later that day, Puriel is teaching them all basic medical knowledge; how to bind wounds correctly and splint broken bones and the such, leaving him with nothing to do until it was his turn with his trainees, there was no better time to catch up on paperwork then scheduled down time. Taking over for Michael seemed to double the amount of paperwork he had to do, the only pro out of this new arrangement was the bigger office, more room was always nice and it had a great view of the training field, he could see practically the entire field from his vantage point.

He sighs dejectedly as he makes up Hamon's breakfast first, sets his bowl down on the other side of Spot's, and makes himself up some toast to munch on. Sighing again, he turns towards the table, pulling the chair next to his oldest brother out, he sets his plate down, and sighs once more.

"Alright," the Captain (and Commander) sets his pen down and turns to look at him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Hasmal takes a bite of his toast and leans forward, resting his elbows against the table, staring down at his breakfast.

"I don't believe that, tell me what I can do to help," he turns his head around with a fingers curled around his chin. "What's with the look of impending doom in those bright eyes?"

"I don't know, Nis," he shrugs lightly. "It just…Something feels off. I don't know. It just doesn't feel like the start of a good day."

"How, it's just started, how isn't it a good day already?"

"I don't know, Nis, it just isn't."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Hasmal yelps as he snatching him up by the arm, tugging him over, scooting back slightly as he tumbles over into his lap. "It should be a good day."

"Nis, what are you doing!"

"I'm going to wave away those clouds hanging over you." He looks down with wide eyes, watching his older brother bury his fingers into his belly, and he shrieks softly, squirming in the older Power's lap. "And, I know just how to accomplish that goal."

"Nis! Nihihis! NO!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that." He wiggles his fingers over to the young angels left side and Hasmal shrieks again, pressing closer to him, batting weakly at his hand. "How are those clouds doing?"

"Nihihihis!"

Nisroc smiles to himself, he'd missed this, the lighthearted times, and now he took them as much as he could manage. He wasn't going to miss out on them anymore, not if he had anything to say about it, and he has a lot to say. He can feel his skin heating up, and it makes him chuckle, Mal had always been rather ticklish, and it never took much to make him lose control. "You can steam, but if you light up, I'll give you a true reason to light up."

"I cahahahhaan't heehehehehelp ihihihihiit!"

"I know you can't," he returns his wiggling fingers to his belly. "That's what makes it so much fun for me."

He smiles when Hasmal takes a deep breath, trying to settle himself down, trying to control himself, so he moves back over to his side again, and the younger angel jumps away from his fingers. He feels heat emanating from his hand, smacking against his own, and he looks around to see what it is. "Is that a flame I see?"

"NO! Noho! It's nohohot! It's nohohot!"

"Let me see that hand."

"Nohoho!"

"Let me see it." He pulls his fingers away from his side to snatch up his hand, and he chuckles softly, blowing out a little bobbing flame over the tip of his index finger. "It is a flame. You lit up."

"Nohoho I dihihihihidn't!"

"I saw it, Mal, I _saw _it."

"Yohohohou sahahhaaw nohohohothing!"

"Alright," Nisroc curls an arm under his knees and stands, lifting the younger angel up with him, leaving his paperwork on the table, he steps around the side, and makes his way for the hall. "Let me give you a reason to light up."

"Nis, no, I don't need a reason!" He squirms, trying to get out of his embrace, he'll allow himself to tumble to the floor if it meant getting away from him. "Put me down! Let me go!"

"I don't think so," he pulls him closer, pulling him in tighter. "I won't drop you, so you can stop squirming, you're not going anywhere."

Hasmal figures, if he can't get free by squirming, he's going to be a dead weight, and falls completely limp. Nisroc grunts lightly, but he's true to his word, he doesn't drop him, he adjusts his grip and kicks his door open gently. Hamon trots in behind him, before he can close the door, he waits for him, him and Mal aren't ever far from each other. The angel hound takes a place on Erathaol's bed, watching them have their time, Hamon was more a hound of action then of words, unless Mal was having an episode, then he'd talk him down when actions didn't get the job done.

He drops the young angel down on his bed, Hasmal yelps, bouncing on the mattress, and immediately tries to crawl away. A hand snatches him by the ankle. "Hey, not so fast." And tugs him back down. "We're not done here."

"Nis, please, I didn't do it, I swear!" He tugs at his ankle firmly. "I don't know what you saw but it wasn't a flame!"

"I know what I saw, you know how this works, you need a reason to light up and I'll give you one." He collapses down on the bed, over top of him, in his horizontal position, Hasmal grunts softly, pushing against his older brother's chest. "Come here, you." He curls his arms around his chest, under his arms, and leans in close. "We haven't gotten to spend much quality time together as of late. It's time to catch up." He buries himself in the side of his neck, and the younger angel shrieks softly, curling his fingers in the front of the Captain's tunic, pushing lightly, desperately, this is the worst, Nis is the worst when he really gets his claws into you.

He shakes his head, blowing light raspberries into his neck, and it drives him crazy, he pushes at him and cackles softly. When he begins to nibble, the young angel squeals softly, smacking his hands against his chest, trying to get him away, out from his burrow in his neck. "Nihihihihis! Gehehehehet ohohhohohohout! Gehehehet ohohohout!"

"I can't hear you; can you repeat that?"

Hasmal goes to repeat himself, and the older angel blows a vicious raspberry, and he squeals loudly, banging against his chest again. Nisroc smiles, he can feel the skin under him starting to heat up again, it truly wasn't all too hard to get him to loose his control, it wouldn't be too long now. He blows another raspberry, and steam begins to roll off his skin, he can smell the sweet scent in his position, truly, not too long now. One more long raspberry and it happens, his focus and control is out the window, and his hands go up in flames.

"There we go, we've got some flames, those are nice." He pulls away from his neck, catching his hands gently, and presses them over his cheeks. "Nice and warm."

"Nohohot as warm as you ahahare."

"It still mystifies me how you're always cold when you're made of fire."

The younger angel giggles softly. "I can't help it. I don't get it either."

He chuckles, shaking his head lightly. "Do you want to join me in my lessons today?"

"Can I wear one of your sweaters?"

Sighing exasperatedly, he smiles, nodding lightly. "Yes, you can wear one of me sweaters."


	298. Night Time Terror

He wakes up to the sound of whimpering, soft whimpering, and he sits up, turning to see what the problem was, and barks softly, his charge whimpering and mumbling to himself, his brow is furrowed, and he knows what's wrong immediately. Barking softly again, he nudges him with his snout, trying to wake him from his tumultuous dreams, but he doesn't budge, he merely whines softly, recoiling away from him and his cold nose.

Huffing softly, he stands, shaking himself out gently, and jumps off the edge of the bed. Trotting across the threshold of the room, he paws the door open, and makes his way down the hall. He can hear the others in the Lounge, they had yet to turn in, his charge had been having a bad day and turned in early, and it made his mission of alerting someone who could do something easier with them being awake, rather then having to wake someone up.

Their conversation doesn't fall silent at his entrance, most of them don't realize he's joined them, but one of them does, the biggest one, leaning back against one of the couches, his arm resting over his bent knee, their eyes meet. He trots up between them, snatching up the man's sleeve, and tugs firmly, jerking his head around towards the hall.

"Is it Mal, Hamon?" He barks, the hound jerking his head around again, and the conversation falls silent at the question. Nodding, the oldest of them pushes himself up to his feet, the others watch them as they leave the room, disappearing down the hall, they'll follow, he knows they will. Nisroc pushes the door open slightly, peering into the room, the light from the hall flooding in, casting over the occupant of the bed. He frowns when the sound of soft whimpering hits his ears. "Oh, Maly."

He steps into the room, pushing the door open even more, casting in more light, and the hound follows, sitting at his side, on the floor, as the oldest Power sits on the edge of the bed, leaning over his charge, and brushes his fingers over his cheek lightly. "Maly, Maly wake up. It's just a dream. Wake up, Maly." The angel of fire whimpers again, curling in on himself slightly, and the Power pats his cheek lightly. "Maly, wake up for me, come on, wake up, it's alright, it's just a bad dream."

Hamon whines softly, he doesn't like seeing his charge so distressed, and nudges the Power's knee lightly. Nisroc looks down at him and smiles, rubbing a hand over his head comfortingly. "It's alright, Mon, I'll take care of him."

He turns back around to the retired Power, patting him on the cheek again, just a bit firmer. "Come to me, Maly, wake up for me, it's just a dream, wake up."

The younger's eyes move under his eyelids, he's close to waking, right on the edge, and Nisroc pats his cheek again. That's when his eyes fly open, flashing brightly, like they do before he bursts into flames, and Nisroc pats his cheek again, to gain his attention. "Maly, Maly, it's okay, look at me, can you see me?"

Hasmal's eyes flit up to him, staring at him for a long minute, before he nods.

"Good, good boy," he strokes his cheek gently with a finger. "Do you see the candle?" He points to the burning candle on the bedside table, and his eyes follow, staring at the dancing flame of the candle next to him for a long minute before nodding again. "Very good. Look back at me, now." His eyes flit back, meeting those of the Captain's, and he smiles down at him. "Tell me what happened."

He licks his lips. "Dark. Too dark."

"It was too dark, okay, what else?"

"Laugh, she was laughing, all I heard."

"Okay, laughter, did you feel anything else?"

He nods lightly. "Cold. Really cold. Too cold."

"Are you still cold?" Hasmal nods quickly, and he smiles down at him, rubbing his cheek again. "Do you want to wear one of my sweaters?" Hasmal nods again, and Nisroc smiles once more, pulling his blankets down slightly. "Come on, let's go get my sweater." Hasmal nods, crawling out from under his blankets, and turns over the edge of the bed, his fingers curling in the Power's sleeve, following him from his room, Hamon on his heels, they were never far from each other.

"Nis," he looks up at the sound of his name, Puriel smiles at him, looking to their young friend, their baby firefly, Hasmal smiles back at him silently. "Bring him down to the Lounge when you're done."

"Alright." He nods, guiding the young retiree forward as the medic makes his leave, heading back down the hall back for the Lounge, and he turns into his room, guiding the young angel over to his wardrobe, pulls open the door, and pulls out one of his sweaters, maroon in color and rather fluffy in materiel, and holds it out to the younger angel.

Hasmal lets go of his sleeve just long enough to pull the his tunic off and the sweater on in it's place, then his fingers curl back into his sleeve again, and he smiles down at him comfortingly, curling his arm around him instead, and the fingers move from his sleeve to the side of his tunic, and he guides him around towards the door, making their way back out into the hall again, making their way down towards the Lounge just as was requested of them.

They've done it up nicely, the curtains over the windows pulled open, letting the bright moonlight flood in, the stars shining brightly in the sky above. Candles are light around the room, over the coffee table and side tables, over the windowsills, on almost every surface a candle could be held rests a candle. They've fluffed up the pillows and laid them out in a certain way, creating a fluffed-up mattress of sorts, a pile of blankets rests on Haniel's other side. They smile up at him, and he smiles back, hiding slightly in his oldest brother's side. Abraxos is tuning up his guitar silently, the smooth sound of the vibrating strings the only sound in the room, and Nisroc squeezes him against his side gently.

"Why don't you go claim your spot."

He looks up at him, shaking his head. "You come too?"

"Of course, I'm coming, come on, let's go claim our spots." The oldest Power intones softly, comfortingly, and guides him forward, sitting on Puriel's left side, and Hasmal settles in between him and Haniel, and they both scoot in closer, nearly smooshing him between them. Haniel pulls a blanket up over him, they all know how much he detests the cold. Hamon crawls up to lay between his legs, a close presence, physical reassurance that he was here, and everything was fine.

Puriel leans around their Captain, reaching over to tuck the blanket up under his chin, and he stares at him as he smiles down at him comfortingly. "You go back to sleep, you need as much sleep as you can get, it's healthy for you."

He shakes his head silently, he doesn't want to go back to sleep, he doesn't want the laughter to come back. "No. Laughing. I hear the laughing." Behind him comes the smooth sound of Abraxos strumming the cords of his guitar, filling the empty space around them with their soft music, a tune, appropriate for the season, a Christmas tune. It's soothing, soft, and it calms his nerves, and he unconsciously relaxes between the two solid bodies he's slightly smooshed between.

"Do you hear Abe?" He nods lightly. "Just focus on the sound of his music. Focus on the strum of the cords. Focus on only that. Let it drown out the laughter." He nods again, it's easier said then done, but he's willing to try. He reaches down, curling his fingers in the scruff of Hamon's neck, the hound crawls upwards, resting it's head on his belly, letting him clutch at the scruff of fur on the back of it's neck. "Good, now close your eyes." He nods, closing his eyes gently, and lays there, warm, comforted by the solid presence of his brothers, his hound pressed so close, and Abraxos playing softly behind him. "Good, very good, now just let go. Listen to the music, bask in the warmth, and just let go."

Hasmal nods again, falling into the soft sound of the guitar music, the soft fur under his fingers, and the warmth of his sweater and blanket, and the presence of his older brothers all around him.

He's asleep within minutes.


	299. The Captain's Elect

Galizur isn't sure what to think when word reaches him that the Powers Captain wishes to see him, especially when the request is for him to meet him upstairs and not in his office, he hadn't been up there since he'd been dismissed as an Elect. But, he'd been working on his temper, he'd been talking to one of Akriel's healers, Michael called it _'anger management'_, and he likes to think he was making good progress, he didn't attack others off hand any more, he took his anger out in his training, training harder than any of the others, the ache in his muscles simmered his anger down, a job well done and a sense of accomplishment, he worked through the things that set him off, igniting his temper, and talking through the tense fit instead of lashing out.

He slowly makes his way up the stairs to the Pavilion, hoping no one was there to meet him in the Lounge, he doesn't think he can take having to face them. Their last meeting hadn't been a good one. He stops at the top of the stairs, peering around the corner to see if there's anyone there. Abraxos is sleeping among the pillows and Titus is reclining on one of the couches reading a book, neither seem to notice him.

"Nisroc's in his room."

Galizur jumps, he knows it was Titus who spoke, he hadn't looked up from his book for even a moment, turning the page in his book. He nods slightly, stepping up over the last step, walking quietly through the Lounge, passed the kitchen, and down the hall for the room at the end. The door is slightly ajar, and he hears humming from inside, the drawers to the wardrobe opening and closing. He takes a deep breath as he turns to face the door, reaching out to knock on the wood, and he waits patiently for him to be granted entrance.

Once he hears the call, he pushes the door open, stepping in just inside the door way. "You..You wanted to see me?"

Nisroc closes the door to his Wardrobe and nods, turning to face him. "Yes, come in, close the door behind you."

The younger angel nods, stepping into the room further, and turns to close the door, before turning back, looking up at the Captain nervously, the last time they had seen each other, it hadn't been a pleasurable experience, he'd never thought the calm and docile Captain could get that angry, he'd actually been quite scared of him in that time.

"What…What did you want?" He breaks the silence first, shifting from foot to foot, curling his bare toes lightly. "Am…Am I in trouble?"

"No, no," he assures quickly. "I've been watching you; I've always known you've had potential that shouldn't go to waste, the progress you've made in learning to handle your anger makes me very proud. You've come a long way from the one we saw previously. I knew you would be great once you learned how to control your burning anger."

"You..You've been watching me?"

"I have." Nisroc nods, crossing his arms loosely. "I like what I've seen. You've come a long way since we last saw each other face to face. It's my turn to choose our newest Elect and I'm choosing you."

He stares at the Power, eyes wide and awed, mouth hanging open slightly, out of all the outcomes of tonight's meeting, that was not one he expected. "You…You're what?"

"You're my Elect, I've chosen you, I've already had your old room made up and everything. I want you back." He leans forward slightly. "And, this time, _I'm _your mentor."

"You…You want me to be _your_ Elect?"

"Mhmm." Nisroc nods lightly and straightens up. "I do."

"Are…Are you sure?"

"I'm positive." He leans forward again. "I wouldn't have chosen you if I wasn't sure." He smiles at him lightly. "And, as your mentor, I can do whatever I want with you." Galizur blinks, shrieking in surprise when the Power surges forward suddenly, catching him up around the waist. "And, luckily for us, I know _exactly _what I want to do with you."

"W—What?" Galizur curls his fingers around the Power Captain's shoulders, looking down at him from his position, tilting his head to the side. "What do you w-want to do?"

He leans forward, resting his chin against his lower belly. "I want to make you laugh."

"Y—You want to make me laugh?"

"I've never heard you laugh before, Gali, I hope you don't mind, I'm going to call you Gali, I want to hear you laugh."

"Uummm." The younger angel tilts his head lightly. "How?"

"Oh, Gali, I was hoping you'd ask." He turns quickly, and Galizur yelps, throwing his arms out to steady himself. "Let me show you." Galizur yells out as he falls backwards, the Power collapsing forward, and he drops down against the bed roughly, grunting at the impact. "W—What are you going to do to me?"

"Well, Gali," he rests above him on his elbows, smiling at him playfully. "I've come to the conclusion, that one of the reasons you were always so cranky, is because you've never had anyone give you a good old fashion tickle torture, which always lifts your mood."

Galizur gulps softly. "A tickle torture?" He tilts his head again. "What's that?"

"You don't know—_What?" _Nisroc stares at him for a moment, frowning lightly, and shakes his head. "Fledgling's should be given to suitable guardians, not to those who are simply available." He shakes his head again, smiling at him this time, and curls his fingers around the hem of his tunic. "Allow me to show you, Gali."

The younger angel watches him pulls his tunic up, and look down at his belly, he's not quite sure what he's doing. The Captain nods suddenly, takes a deep breath, and rushes down, burying his face into his belly.

"What are you doiiiiIIIIIEIEIAIAAHAHAHHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA! WHAHAHAHAHAT! IIEIEIEAIAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHA AHAHHAHAHAHA NIHIHIHIHHIIHIS! EIEIEIAIIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHHAHAHAHAHAHIIEIEIAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! WHHAHAHAHHAAT AHAHAHAHHAARE YOHOHHHOHOHOHOU DOHOHOHOHOING! EIEIEAIAIAHAHAHHAHAHAHA WAHAHAHAIAIT! EIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA NIHIHIHIHIS! EEIEIEIEIAIHAHAAHAHAHHAAHA WHAHAHAHHAAT IHIHIHIHIS THIHIHIHIS! EEIEIAIAIAAAIHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NIHIHIHIHIS!"

He chuckles, pressing a light kiss to his belly button, and sits up again. "Those are berries." Galizur giggles breathlessly, staring down at him with bright eyes, squirming lightly underneath him, testing the amount of give he has. "Do you want some more?"

"No! I don't know! It feels weird! But good weird! Maybe!"

"Okie dokie, then."

"Wait! Wait! Nihihihis! EEIEIEIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHHAHAHAEIIEAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA! WAHAHAHAIAIT! EIEIAIIAAIIAAIAHHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAEIEIEIIEAIAIAIHAHAAHHAHAHAHA! NIHIHIHIHIHIS! EEIEIEIIAIAIAIAAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHHAHAEIEIIEIEIAIAIAAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHAHA! IHIIHIHIHIHI DOHOHOHOHON'T UNDERSTAHAHAHAHHAAND! EEIIEIAIAAIAIHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! WHAHAHAHHAT IHIHIHIHIS THIHIHIHIS! EEIEIAIAIAIIAHAHAHAHAAHHAA HAHAHAHAHHAHEEIEIEIIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Nisroc presses another kiss to his belly button and sits back up on his elbows again. "I knew it. This, Gali, is called being ticklish. And you, you seem to be very ticklish. You have an _adorable_ laugh, you know." He pokes a finger into his sides. "Your belly is ticklish, where else?" The young angel shimmies from side to side, giggling breathlessly, and he smiles, drilling his fingers it, and Galizur shrieks lightly, arching his back slightly. "This seems promising, let's test the waters here, shall we?" The younger angel edges to the side as he lowers his head, taking another deep breath, he buries his face in the young angel's right side.

"Wait! WAIAAIAIIAIAAIAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAEEIEIIEAIAIAIAHAHAHHAHHAAHA! NIHIHIHIHIHIS! AHAHAHAHAHHAHAEIEIEIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! EIEIIAIAIAIIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA!"

"Here, have a taste of my secret weapon."

"Secret weaahahahahahahhahaaeieieiaiaiaiaahahahahahahaha! Whahahahahhaat ihihihihis thahahahahahhaat! Eeiaiiaiaiaiahaahahhahaahhah ahahahahahhahaha! Nihihihihis ahhahaheieieaiaihahahahaha whahahahahat ihihihihis ihihihihit!"

"My secret weapon, my beard, can't stand it, can you?"

"Nihihihihis! Stohhohohohop! Nohohohot thaahahahahhaat! Thahahahat's bahahahahad!"

"How about some more berries then?"

"No! WAIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA! EIEIEIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHA! EIEIEIAIAAIAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAIAIAIAAIAIHAIEIIEIEIEAIAAHAHAHAHHHAHAHA! NOHHOHOHOHOHO! NIHIHIHIHIS! EEIEIEIEIAIAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHA TOOHOHOHOHO MUHUHUHUCH EEIEIIIAIAIAAAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAA NIHIHIHIHIISSSSS!"

He chuckles again, pulling away once more, and smiles down at the breathless mess he's made of his new young Elect. "So, what do you say, will you be my newest little Elect?"

"Hehehehe!" Galizur nods lightly, a smile stretched over his features, his eyes shining bright with laughter. "Yehehes!"

Nisroc leans up, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and rolls over to lay down next to him. "Good. Now, next order of business, you'll stay with me tonight. It's nice and warm in here, and you'll catch yourself a cold if you make your way back downstairs at this time of night."

"I—I cahan stay hehere?"

He looks over at the younger angel, smiling lightly. "Of course you can, my bed is your bed, you can stay with me any time you want."

Galizur pulls his tunic back down, fiddling with the hem for a moment, before looking back up at the Captain. "Sorry, I was so mean to your fledglings."

"Hey, don't worry about it, water under the bridge." He smiles, leaning into the hand that rubs over the top of his head. "You got yourself the help you needed, that's all that matters." His Captain gives him a serious look for a moment. "And, as your mentor, I want you to see your healer twice a week, alright?"

The younger angel nods lightly. "Okay, Nis."

"Good boy." He rubs his head again. "Now, it's late, my Elects have a bedtime to keep them at their best. You climb under those blankets and snuggle on down, I have some things to finish up before I turn in, if you're still cold, just let me know, I'll get you another blanket."

Galizur nods again, climbing under the blankets, this is his second chance, and he's not going to waste it. "Okay, Nis, what time is my bedtime."

"Ten thirty, in bed by ten, asleep by ten thirty."

"Okay, Nis, I promise not to let you down this time."

"Hey," he strokes the youth's cheek lightly. "Keep on the path you're on, and you could never let me down." The elder tucks the blanket up under his chin. "Now, it's time for you to be asleep, passed your bedtime."

Galizur snuggles down under the blanket, resting against the pillow, turning over onto his side, and Nisroc smiles at him, brushing his fingers through his curls lightly, before rolling off the edge of his bed, making his way across to his desk. He's almost done with this weeks paperwork, just a few more forms, and he intends to finish them.


	300. Testing Of The Reflexes

He hums to himself, smiling at his cunning, he was different then Puri, but almost just as bad. Busying himself when there's a knock on the door, he knows who it is, there's no other person it could be, he'd asked him to come see him, just some mentor and mentee business to attend to. It was all a ruse, even calm and collect quiet Abe needed to have his fun, all work and no play made for a very boring Abraxos.

"Come in."

The door opens, squeaking softly as it does, and someone steps in. "Abe, you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, Sablo, thank you for coming." He puts his tunics away and closes the door to his wardrobe. "Close the door behind you."

Sablo nods, turning slightly to push the door closed, the lock clicks into the latch, and then he turns back to look up at the older Power. "Now what?"

"Take your tunic off."

The youngest Power tilts his head in confusion. "I..I don't understand."

"Take off your tunic, Sablo."

He nods silently at the command, reaching down to curl his fingers around the hem of his tunic, and pulls it up over his head, tossing it down to lay on the end of the older Power's bed. Abraxos nods in approval, uncrossing his arms slightly to point at the bed. "Good, now lay down."

"What?"

Abraxos points to the bed. "Lay down."

The younger angel nods lightly, doing as his mentor said, and lays himself down on the older Power's bed, head resting against the pillows, arms laying lazily at his sides, he stares up at the older angel curiously. "What are we doing?"

Abraxos crosses to stand at the foot of his bed, rubbing his hands together softly, and smiles down at him. "I want to test your reflexes."

"Okaaayyy." They'd done that often when he was still an Elect, usually on the training field, seeing how quick he could duck or deflect a blow aimed at him. They hadn't done that since before his ceremony, but who was he to question his mentor, Abe knew what was best for him. "But, shouldn't we be outside for that, Nis doesn't like us being so rough inside," he tilts his head. "And, why have me lay down."

"Oh, no, you're right where I want you." He leans over, crawling up over him. "Right where I want you."

"I don't understand, Abe, why here?"

"Let me show you." The older Power cracks his fingers, flexing them lightly, and wiggles his fingers over the sides of his belly. Sablo's eyes widen, and he shrieks, jolting under the older angel. "Those reflexes are still as sharp as ever, I see."

"Nohohohoho! Wahahahahait! Yohohou ahahahahhahaa triihihihihihicked mehehehe! Ahahahahahahhaha Ahahahahhaabbeehehehehe! Nohohohohoho! Aahahahhahaha!"

"I would never, my little protégé, I would never trick you." He wiggles his fingers down to his lower belly. "Puri hogs you all to himself, you're _my _protégé, I want a turn too."

"Whyhyhyhy mehehehehe!"

"Well, there's multiple reasons; number one, because I _can _and number two, you have an _adorable _laugh."

"Ahahahhahabbeehehhehehehe! Plehehehehhehehease! Aahahahahahahha ahahhahahaha nohohohoho! Nohohohot theheheheheereee!" The older Power wiggles a finger over his belly button and the youth cackles brightly. "Nohohohot thehehehehehheere! Aahahahahhaabbeee! Nohohohohot theheheheheerreee! Nohohohot thehehehe buhuhuhuttohohon! Nohohohot thehehehehheerreeee!"

Abraxos chuckles, pulling away from his belly button, blowing a light stream of air over it, the younger angel shrieks. "Puri is right, this is a giggle button, I can see why he likes this belly so much."

"Aahahabe!"

"Let's get down to some serious business." He curls his fingers around his waist and looks down at his target, Sablo stares at him in horror, he knows that look, he's seen it, right before Puri does the unthinkable. "No! Noho! Stay away from me! Stahay away! Not those! Nohot thohose! Ahabe! Abe, no!" He smiles lightly, lowering his head slowly, and the younger Power struggles underneath him, bracing his hands against his head, he's a bit stronger then he was before, but the older angel has decades on him, he's really no match. "Abe, don't! No! Stay away from there! Ahahabe! Nohoho!"

He shrieks when the older angel presses his lips over his belly button, falling tense under him, his fingers curling in his hair lightly. He hears the older Power take a deep breath, and he freezes, his breath catches in his throat, waiting in anticipation for what's about to come.

Abe makes him wait for what feels like a solid eternity, just basking in his tense anticipation, and he blows out lightly, a precursor, a gentle sneak peek for what's about to come. "Abe! Don't!" He tries to sound intimidating, as intimidating as he can be, he was a double agent for Father's sake, this shouldn't affect him as much as it does. "Don't you dare!"

The older Power shakes as he chuckles softly. "I dare." And takes a deep breath.

"EEIEIAIAIAIAHAAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHHA NOHOHOHOHO! AHAHAHHAABBBEEHEHEHEHHEE NOHOHOHOHOT THAHAHAHHAT! EIEIEIIAIAIAAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAIEIEIAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA AHAHAHAHAHHA! NOHOHOHOT THEEHEHE BUHUHUHUUTTON! EEIIEIAIAIAAIAAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAAIEIEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHHAHAHAHABBBEEEHEHEHEHHEE NOHOHHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEHHEERRREHEHEHHEHE! EEIEIEIAIAIIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO EIEIEIAIAIAHAAHAHAHAHAA AHAHHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Oh, my, this is a sweet spot."

"Aahahahhaabbbeehehehehhe nohohohoho! Nohohoho mohohohore!" He shrieks when the older Power takes another deep breath, puffing his cheeks up like the medic does, and slowly lowers his head again. "Eeeeehhhh! Nohohoho! Ahahahhaabbeeee! Stahahahahay awahahahahhaay frohohohohom mehehehehe! Gehehehet ahahhahahahaway! Get awahahay! Nohoho Abe Nohoho! EEIEIAIAIAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHHAAEIEIEIEIAIAAIAHAHHAHAHAHAA AHAHHAHAHAHAA! NOHOHOHOHO EIEIEIEIEIAIAIAIAIAIHAHHAHAHAHAHHAAHA AHHAHAHAHAHHAA EIEIIEAIAIAIAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAA AHAHAHAHAHAAABBBEEHEHEHEHHEE! NOHOHOHHOHOT THEHEHEEHHERREEHEHEHHEEHE! AAAHAHAHAHAHHAAEIEIAIAIAIAIHAAAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAEEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEEEEIEIEIAIAIAIAIAHAHAHHAHAHHA! NOHOHOHOT BEHEHEHEHEERRIEEEHEHHEHEHES! EIEIAIIAAIAIHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHA AHHAHAHAAHAEIEIEIEAIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAHA!"

Abraxos blows one last long raspberry and sits up on his elbows, digging his fingers back in his belly instead, wiggling them in slow steady circles, and he shimmies, shaking from side to side, his belly quivering under his torturous fingers. "I knew you were sensitive, but I never thought you were this sensitive, Puri wasn't lying, you're a mighty ticklish little Baby Power."

"Ahahahhaabbehehehehe! Stohhoohohoohohop! Ahahahahhaha! Toohohohohohohooo muhuhuhuch! Ahahahhahahah nohohoho mohohohore! Nohohohohot thehehehe behehehelly! Ahahahhaabbeeeehehehhehe!"

"No more?" He crawls his fingers up his sides to attack at his ribs, and Sablo shrieks, thrusting his arms back down, cackling brightly through his torture. "But I've been told there's so many good spots to explore. How come I didn't know any of this, huh, you thought to hold out on me, did you?" He curls his fingers through the fingers of the younger angel's left hand, slowly lifting his arm up above his head. "As your mentor, I need to know all the important things, and this is as important as anything I've ever heard." He scoots upwards, kicking himself forward slightly, and looks down at his exposed armpit. "What goodie spot do we have here?"

Sablo tries to look over, but the older angel's upper arm is in the way, so instead, he presses his cheek against it firmly, tugging fruitlessly at his hand captured in the older Power's fingers. He giggles frantically when a finger pokes into his armpit and rests there calmly. "I've heard many things about these armpits." He wiggles his finger lightly and the young angel shrieks with laughter, tugging harder, shaking his head from side to side. "Oh, this seems promising, this seems very promising."

"Aahahahahahha nohohohoho! Nohohohot thehehehere ahahahahhahahaha nohohohot theheheheheir! Ahahahhaha ahahahahahaha! Nohohohho! Ahahahhahaabbeeehehehehhee! Ahahahhahaha nohhohhohohohot myhyhy ahahahhaarmpihihihihits!"

"Not your armpits?" He flutters his fingers over the small armpit. "They must be pretty interesting if you this against it." Abraxos strokes a finger over his armpit and smiles. "What about berries here?"

"No! Noho! Noho beheherries thehere! Ahabe! Abe! Nohohoho! Dohohon't! Don't! Nohohot thehehere!"

He chuckles lightly. "Just a little bit." He takes a deep breath and lowers his head, burying himself in his armpit, Sablo shrieks loudly, shaking his head again. "Just a little."

"Nohoho! Nohohohone! Nohohohoho!" He throws his head back. "EIEIEIAIAAIAIAHAHAHHAHAHAA NONONO EIEIIAIIAIAIAAHHAHAHHAHHAHAAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA EEEIIEIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHHAABBEEHEHHEHEHEHE! EIEIEIAIAIIAAHAHAHHAHAHHA AHAHAHHAHAHAA NOHHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEEERREEEHEHHEHE! EIEIEAIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAA PLHEHEHEHEAASE! AHAHAHHAHAHAA AEIEIIEAIIAIAIAIAIAAIHAAHAHHAHAAHA! NOHOHOHOT MYHYHHYHY AHAHAHAHHAARMPIIHIHIHIHIT! EIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAA AHAHAHHAHAHAHAEIEIEIAIAIAHAAHAHHAHAHAHHA! GEHEHEHEHET OHHOHOHHOOUT! GEHEHEHEHEEIEIEIIIAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA GEHEHEHET AWAHAHAHAHHAHAAY! EIEIEAIAIAAHAHAHAHHAHAA AHAHHAHAHEIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHO MOHOHOHORE! AHAHAHEIEIIEAIAIIAAIHAHAHAHAHAHA AHHAHAHAHAAH! PLEHEHEHHEHEEASE! PLEASE! AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAA! NOHOHOHO MOHOHOHORE! NOHOHOHO MOHHOHOHOHORE!"

"We'll have to do this again," Abraxos rolls off of him, resting at his side, an arm curled back behind his head. "But I'll let you go, for now, we'll have to do this again."

Sablo curls his arms around himself and curls up on his side, his forehead brushing against his mentor's arm. Abraxos chuckles softly, ruffling his fingers through his curls, scratching at his head lightly. "Thanks for a good time."

He giggles softly. "Youhuhu're wehehelcome."

"Come here." The older angel tugs him closer, pulling him up under his arm, and Sablo sighs softly, resting his head in the crook of his shoulder. "There, that's better."

"You guys are mean."

"I was being nice." He pokes him in the side lightly. "I can be mean, if you want me to."

"No, no," the youth squirms closer. "That's okay."

He chuckles again and relents, rubbing at his back softly, he crosses his ankles together. "Do you want to stay with me tonight?"

Sablo nods. "Yes, please."

"Alrighty then, want to wear one of me shirts to sleep in?"

He nods again, a tad sheepishly, and looks up at him. "Yes, please."

Abraxos smiles down at his protégé, leaning over to peck him on the nose. "Alright, you know where they are, go get changed, it's time for bed."


	301. Once In A While

She didn't have them as much as she did when she first joined the Healer's flock, they used to be a nightly occurrence, but they'd faded over time, as she got to know the other healers. She had spent her first couple weeks upstairs with her unit leader, they were so bad, and she was so frightened, but they'd eventually made their way down to the dormitories, and she found it wasn't so bad, she could join him anytime she needed, he was kind like that.

Onoel rubs the sleep from her eyes, sitting up in her bed, looking around to see if she had disturbed any of her dorm mates, and sighs in relief when she sees that she hasn't. Turning out of bed, she curls her legs over the side, setting her bare feet against the cool stone flooring. Rubbing at her eyes once more, tossing a few braids over her shoulder, she pushes herself up to her feet. Reaching back, she tugs her blanket up, it's the onset of autumn and a bite has entered the air around them, she pulls the blanket around her shoulders tightly.

Tiptoeing across the room, she carefully turns the door hand, the latch unclicks from the keeper quietly, and she pulls the door open and steps out, pulling the door closed behind her silently. She walks quietly down the hall towards the stairs at the end, tiptoeing up when she reaches the edge, and makes her way up as silently as she can manage.

It's still too early, the Lounge is empty when she finally crests the top stair, the kitchen is empty too. She tiptoes over to the kitchen, the faucet is dripping, and she twists the nod, the dripping stops, it would have bugged her if she knew it was dripping and did nothing to stop it, she knew it was and that was enough to drive her crazy. Nodding to herself, she steps around the dining table, and turns down the hall. She passes Ephraim and Constantine's rooms first, peeking in through the cracked doors, they sleep in the same exact position, just on opposite sides, and it was kind of amusing to see.

Smiling she steps forward, Zed's door is cracked too, he sleeps on his back, one arm draped over his face and the other across the side of the bed, his hand dangling over the edge. The way he sleeps is funny too, he snores softly, and she giggles silently behind her hand at the sound of it.

Across from his room is Akriel's, sometimes she works for him, especially when they get new refugees. He sleeps on his stomach, one arm curled under his head and the other hanging over the side of his bed, he snores too, its still soft, but it's louder then Zed's.

The room at the end of the hall is the one she's walking up here for, that door is closed, but she knows she's welcome, she always is, he said so.

Curling her fingers around the door handle, she twists it slightly, to the side, the latch unclicks from the keeper as she turns it all the way around, and she pulls the door open silently. He snores too, but it's soft, just a bit softer then Zed's is, sleeping curled up on his side. His room is warm too, the fire in the fireplace is burning low, but it's still burning warm, it gusts out the door as she pulls it open and steps in, it makes her shiver slightly, at the sudden meeting of cool and warm air, and she closes the door behind her silently.

Stepping forward cautiously, you never know what's going to be on the floor to trip over or step on, she crosses the threshold of the room to his bedside.

Curling the blanket around her shoulders tighter, she leans over, shaking his shoulder lightly. "Ori?" Onoel whispers softly, shaking his shoulder again. "Ori?" He doesn't even stir, so she shakes just a bit firmer. "Ori?"

The Captain, her unit leader, snorts awake softly, blinking widely in the dark of his room, squinting slightly to see what's calling to him in the darkness, and he tilts his head, sitting up slightly, when he finally makes out who it is. "Ono?"

She nods lightly. "Ori, can I sleep with you?"

He nods in turn, scooting back slightly, lifting the edge of his blankets up. "Bad dream?" She nods. "Climb in, it's cold."

Onoel nods slightly. "It is." As she slides in next to him, turning over onto her side, she watches him lower the blankets. His right arm snakes around her waist and pulls her back against him, sighing softly, she presses back against him, and feels him sigh against her ear. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She shakes her head lightly, licking her lips. "You swear they can't come for me?"

"Well, they'd never make it passed the guards at the gate, but if they managed to do that somehow, they'd have to go through me, and before they went through me, they'd have to go through Raphael, and it's no easy task to get through him. Not even Michael will try and go through him. That has to tell you something on the matter of that feat." He presses a kiss against the back of her neck, and she smiles slightly, it's their little thing, no one else's. Sometimes, when he's feeling particularly playful, he'll blow light raspberries over the back of her neck, holding her trapped back against his chest, and she absolutely loses it. "So, I swear, they can't come back for you. You're stuck here for good."

"Thanks, Ori."

"Of course, little Ono, I'll always be here to reassure you of that fact, whenever those fears come to rear their ugly heads again."

Onoel smiles, closing her eyes lightly. "Thanks for letting me sleep with you."

"Hey, I told you, anytime you need to, you're always welcome."


	302. A Bit Of A Barter

"Thaddy, if you'd only give them another chance, I know they can do good, they just need the right sort of guiding hand, and I know that could be you."

Thaddeus curls his arms behind his head, reclining back against the Power's pillows, shaking his head stubbornly, he wouldn't give those two another chance even if it meant saving all of Heaven. They'd hurt his kid, and that was the only straw it took for him, they'd never be welcomed back in his Prison, not unless they were coming in wearing shackles. "No."

"Thaddy, I have _no where else _to put them, Andrew and Daniel refuse to let them come back, the guards of the Throne Room have shunned them, the others won't have them, if they can't come back to work for you, I'll be forced to dismiss them."

"Don't let the door hit'em on the way out." He waves his hand lightly. "Good riddance. See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya."

Titus turns to stare at him, resting his hands on his hips lightly, raising his eyebrows. "Now, you don't mean that, you're too good to mean that, you're just being stubborn, like you were when you were a fledgling, you were the most stubborn fledgling I'd ever met." He points a finger at him. "You're too nice to mean that."

"Send me a post card."

"You're just as stubborn now, as you were when you were little, but I know how to remedy that, yes I do."

The implications of that statement hit him after a moment, and he opens his eyes, they widen as he takes in the Power jumping at him, and he tries to curl up before he can land, but he doesn't make it in time, and the older angel pushes him back, traps him by the waist. He fumbles slightly, as he tries to push the Power away, as Titus lifts the bottom hem of his tunic and pokes his head under, burying his face in his belly, blowing a massive raspberry over his belly button.

He shrieks, in both surprise, and at the reverberating tickly feeling, pushing desperately at the Power's head. "Wahahahahaait! Wahahahaait! Uhuhuncle Tuhuhus! Nohoho!"

"I'm not going to stop until you agree to give them a second chance."

"Eieiieiaiaahahahahahahahaha! Nohoho! Uhuhuhuncle Tuhuhuhus! Nohohot thohohose!"

"You know what you have to do."

"Nehehehever!"

"Then, you'd better get comfortable, we have all night."

He's seven berries in when he finally agrees, shrieking and squealing, kicking his legs wildly. But that doesn't stop the Power, no, now he's just being mean.


	303. Abraxos' First Little Elect

"Oh, Puri," he walks around their home searching for his adorable little Elect. "Where are you?" He tosses a few pillows aside to see if he's hiding under them and continues on. "It's time for your tickly tickle torture." He falls still, silent, focusing on his sense of hearing, listening intently for any sort of noise, and he smiles, when a soft giggling reaches his ears. "Just wait until I get my hands on that adorable little chubby belly, we're going to have a great time." He turns around, making his way down the hall, following the sound of those hushed giggles.

Nisroc meets him in the hall, tilting his head slightly, inquiring silently on the matter of if he'd found him. Abraxos smirks lightly, pointing into his room with his thumb, the door hangs open, and he turns, stomping inside, he knows his little Elect is in there, that's where the soft little giggles had lead him. The giggles fall silent, an intake of breath hits him near silently, and he follows it, gesturing for his older brother to follow, pointing down at his bed.

Him and his Captain kneel slightly at the foot of the second oldest Power's bed and reach under. Their fingers curl around an ankle each, and they tug, pulling their young Elect out from under his mentor's bed. He giggles, smiling up at them, and waves his hand slightly. "Hi."

"Hello, Puri." Nisroc purrs softly, returning his smile. "It took us longer to find you this time, then it did last."

"I'm getting better."

"That you are," Abraxos pokes him in the side and their little Elect squeaks softly, leaning away from him, closer to their Captain. "But, not good enough."

They pick him up, one hand curled around his ankles, and the other around his upper arm, and stand up, tossing him over the edge of the bed, and he shrieks, bouncing over the mattress lightly, and tries to crab crawl away. His mentor catches him by the ankles, tugging him back down on his back, Nisroc chuckles lightly, walking around the edge of the bed, sliding up under his head, reaching down to catch his wrists, pulling his arms up over his head. "You can have the belly, Abe, but the armpits are mine."

"You can have the armpits, I only want his belly, that's all mine." Abraxos climbs up over his legs, he tries to behind his legs at the knee, but they only meet his mentors chest, the older Power leans over him still, but reaches back, to wiggle his fingers under his knees, and he shrieks softly, dropping his legs quickly. His mentor crawls forward, laying over his legs, resting on his elbows right over the middle of his belly, and smiles up at him playfully. "It's time for your tickly tickle torture, baby brother."

"But, I was good! I didn't give you any trouble all week!"

"I know, and it makes me very proud, but that's not going to stop your tickly tickle tortures." He slips his hands up under his tunic. "Not until you learn to love this adorable chubby little tummy as much as we do."

"It's not adorable!" Their Elect snaps, it's unlike their bright little baby brother, and they exchange quick concerned glances over his head, before his mentor looks back down at him. "It's nasty and disgusting and shameful! That's what everyone says! It jiggles when I jump and when I run, and it's embarrassing, I hate it! I hate how I look! My belly isn't firm and toned like yours and Nis's is, it's jiggly and flabby, and I hate it! I'm fat and ugly! Everyone says so!"

Abraxos frowns lightly, this is the first time he's heard about this, and he thinks back on how his little baby Elect behaves, trying to remember if there had been any warning signs about how much he detested himself. "Who tells you this, Puri?"

"Hofniel and Theliel! And, they're right, I hate my belly! I hate it! IhateitIhateitIhateit! It's jiggly and round and big and flabby and I hate it!"

His mentor looks up to their Captain above his head, Nisroc is frowning, he's clearly displeased, he's very protective of his baby Elects. "I will discuss this with them. This sort of behavior is unacceptable."

Abraxos nods lightly, and looks back down to his little Elect, rubbing his hands over his portly little tummy. "Puri, you're wrong, about everything, so very wrong. You're _beautiful_. You're _amazing_. I don't think your ugly, and I most certainly don't think you're fat, and I know Nis doesn't either."

"I would never."

"It doesn't matter that your belly isn't flat and toned, it doesn't have to be, you're not fat, you eat just right, you like your sweets, but you know to eat them in moderation, you're doing everything right, you were created to be this way, and there's nothing wrong with that, there's nothing wrong with _you_." He circles his palm over his rotund belly lovingly and soothingly. "Nis and I think you're perfect just the way you are, we wouldn't want you to change a thing, we think your tummy _is _adorable. It saddens me to know that you felt this way, and I am ashamed of myself for not noticing, we will work on this lack of self esteem together, the three of us, and we will build you tall and strong, just like I know you can be."

Puriel stares up at him, biting his lip lightly, blinking quickly, as though he was blinking back tears. "You promise you guys don't think I'm ugly and fat?"

He stills his hands. "I _promise_." The second oldest Power wiggles his fingers lightly over the sides of his belly, and he squeaks, giggling brightly, squirming from side to side, tugging at his captive arms. "I happen to _adore _this ticklish little tummy, it doesn't matter to me as to what it looks like at _all_, I think it's _adorable _just the way it is."

"Ahahahabe! Tihihickles!"

"Oh, it does, does it?" He pulls his hands out from under his tunic and curls his fingers around the hem of his shirt, pushing it upwards, revealing his favorite chubby little tummy to him. "Look at this tummy." He wiggles his index fingers on either side of his belly button, and their little Elect shrieks softly, squirming from side to side, trying to pull his belly out from under him. "What's not to love?" He claws his fingers in suddenly, and the youth squeals brightly, jolting under him.

"Eieiieiaiahahahahahahaha Ahahahhabe! Nihihis lehehehheet gohohoho! Eeieeiiaiaahahahahahhahahaeieieieiaiaahahahhaha! Nohohoho! Nohohohoh Ahahhahaabe! Eeieieiaiiaaaahahahhahahaahaaiieieieiaahhahahahahahahaa!"

He pauses his attack, and the bright squealing laughter dies down into rapid giggles, and Abraxos smiles down at him. "I happen to know for a _fact_, that his belly is mighty ticklish." He pokes him in the belly playfully, all over, and the boy under him jolts and jumps and squeaks with ever poke. "This is my belly now. I _own _this belly. I'll share it with Nis, because I'm nice, but this is _my _belly." His mentor smiles at him playfully, wiggling his fingers against the shaking belly gently, spinning his hands in small slow circles, getting every spot of his belly, leaving nothing untouched, and the boy shrieks and arches his back, squeaks turning into bright shrieking peals of laughter, tugging harshly at his arms. "Say this is my belly, Puri, say it, say this is my chubby little tickly tummy."

"Nohoho! Sihihiir!"

"Abe, he just called you _'sir'_."

"I heard it, Nis, I heard it, it must have been a slip of the tongue."

"You should still address it."

"I agree. I agree."

He tilts his head, looking down at his Elect. "What did you just call me? Did you call me _'sir'?" _he continues his gently torture of his belly, and wiggles the fingers of his right hand down to his side, the boy under him shrieks and squeals with laughter, arching his back and squirming where he lay under the two Power, looking up as he tugs at his arms again, begging Nisroc to let him go. "I swear I just heard you call me _'sir'_, but I know you know not to, so I must have misheard, tell me, my little tickle boy, did I mishear you?"

"Yehehehehehes! Yehehehehehes! I sahahahahhahaid Ahhahahahhahaabbee! _I sahahhahahaaid Ahahahahaabe!"_

"That's what I thought you said, I knew I must have misheard you." He wiggles his fingers up and down his side, and the young angel rocks lightly, trying to turn up onto his side to block out the fingers, and then he runs them back up over his tummy, the shaking little chubby giggle filled tummy. "Now, say this is my little tickle tummy."

"Nohohoho! It'shshshshshs mihihihihihiihinneheheheheheehe!"

Abraxos chuckles softly, shaking his head. "Oh, no, no. It most certainly is not. This," he wiggles his index fingers on either side of his belly button, and Puriel squeals softly, sucking in his belly as much as he can. "Eieieieiaiaiahahahahahahhahaha Ahahahaabe! Nohohoho!" He looks up again, tugging at his arms, Nisroc had, at some point, trapped his hands under his thighs, sitting lightly on his hands, carefully, keeping his arms trapped above his head, and sought the book that had been resting on the bedside table, reading through it silently, basking in the sound of their Elect's tortured laughter, he looks down at the sound of his name being squealed and simply chuckles, reaching down with one hand to pat him on the head, before reaching back up to turn the page. Puriel looks back down to his mentor, squealing and shrieking with laughter, he wonders if they can hear it downstairs, he's laughing really loud, he can't really focus enough on it to think too deeply on that thought, he can only focus on those fingers wiggling on either side of his belly button. Abraxos smiles at him lightly. "This is _my _little chubby tickle tummy, not yours, _mine_."

He looks back down to his beloved tummy, lifting his fingers away from it, wiggling them just above, and the little angel giggles frantically, eyes jumping from hand to hand of wiggling torturous fingers. "What's going to happen to this little tummy now?"

"Noohhoohohohoothing! Nohohothing!"

"Now, I don't think that's the case." He hovers his fingers right over his belly, wiggling still, the tips of his fingers just ghosting over the shaking surface, his young Elect giggles harder, watching those dangerous fingers closely. "I think it's going to get more tickly tickles."

"Nohoho! Ahahahhaabbee! Nohhoohoho!"

"Oh, yes, I think it is." His fingers touch down, and the young Elect squeals brightly, arching his back at the suddenness of the assault, he knew it was coming, but he still wasn't prepared. He looks like an adorable little fledgling, cackling brightly with bright peals of laughter, head thrown back against their oldest brother's thigh, it's an endearing sight, and they both watch it for a moment, it makes both elder Power's smile. "My little chubby tickle tummy is going to get some tickles." The mentor spiders his fingers over to the left side of his belly and the little Elect squeals again, shaking his head, arching over to the other side as much as he can, squealing again when his fingers wiggle over to the right side of his belly, and he bounces lightly, jumping over to the left. "This chubby little tickle tummy seems to me, to be quite ticklish."

Puriel shakes his head feverishly, boisterous cackles pouring out of him, bouncing lightly where he lays as those fingers torture the sides of his belly relentlessly, zipping from side to side.

"Oh, yes, it is, it's quite ticklish." He digs his fingers into his lower belly, really digs them into the pudge, and the boy arches his back sharply, shrieks of laughter exploding from his lips. "My little tickle tummy is mighty ticklish." Abraxos looks down at his tummy with raised eyebrows and a playful smile. "Now, look at this adorable plump tummy."

"Myhyhyhy tuhuhuhuhummyyhyhyhyhy ihihihihihis nohhohohohot adohohohohohoraahahahable!"

"Oh, but it is." He wiggles his index fingers into a little pouch of baby fat above his waist line, under his belly button, and their little Elect squeals brightly, flowing right into uproarious laughter, pressing his head back against his Captain's lap. "It's mighty cute." He keeps on for a moment, just savoring the uproarious laughter coming from their giggly, mighty ticklish little Elect, and then he pulls back, staring down at the little tummy roll, and then he rushes down, burying his face into the roll, nibbling it playfully. Puriel's eyes widen, and he throws his head back again, arching his back sharply, screeching with laughter. "IIIEIEIEIAIAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHHOHOHO AHAHAHHAHHAAABBBEEEHEHEHHEHEHEHEE IIIEIIEIAAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA STOHOHHOHOHOHOP THHAHAHAHAHAHAT! NOHOHOHOHOT THAHAHHAHAHAHAT IIEIEIIEIAIAAHHAHAHAHAAHAHA! NOHOHOHO NIHIHIHIHIHIBBLES! NOHOHOHOO NIHIHIHIHIBBLES!"

Abraxos pulls away from his belly, licking his lips lightly, and smiles up at him as he pants heavily, trying to catch his breath. "Now, are you going to say this is my little tickle tummy, or am I going to have to use some more drastic tactics to get what I want to hear?"

Puriel bites his lip, shaking his head stubbornly, he'd never say it, never ever, he wouldn't give him the satisfaction, he was a Power Elect, he needed to be strong and withstand the worst tortures known to them, and that included the torturous tickle torture.

His mentor smiles down at him, poking him in the belly button playfully, and he shrieks, it elicits bouts of hysterical giggles from him. "You're cute." He pokes all over his belly, pulling his finger out of his belly button, and their Little Elect jumps from side to side, jolting and squeaking. "I like you, I made the right choice in picking you, I've never doubted my decision, and I never will." He pulls his hands away, resting his arms up his sides, leaning forward on his elbows. "Now, about those drastic convincing tactics." He looks down at the bare chubby tummy with a smile, eyeing it carefully, as though searching out a spot for attack. "Let's see if this will make you say it."

Puriel's eyes widen comically, when it finally dawns on him on what's about to happen, what his drastic tactics are, and he shakes his head frantically. "NO! NO ABE! No, no, no!" He squirms from side to side, tugging desperately at his arms, trying to pull himself out from under the Captain so he can push himself out from under the Captain's luitenant, bouncing lightly where he lays. "Not that! Not those! Not those, please!" _Those _are just as bad as nibbles, if not worse, definitely worse, and nibbles are pretty bad, so _those _are terrible.

"Oh, yes." He curls his fingers over his sides to keep him still, in place, and bends forward. "_Those." _Abraxos presses his lips over the little Elects belly button, and rests there, listening to him shriek and giggle, takes a deep breath, waits a moment, and blows out a long hard raspberry. The boy squeals loudly, brightly, and he laughs softly against his belly, before he takes another deep breath and blows another mean raspberry. He squeals and jerks around, arching his back and bouncing under him, with every harsh playful raspberry, at some point, he doesn't know when, but mid bounce, as he arches his back, snaking his arms under him, around his lower back, and his fingers poke out at his sides, and they wiggle in torturously. Abraxos presses a kiss to his shaking belly, pressing a wave of playful kisses all over, and then plants a rather big one over his belly button, and the young Elect continues to bounce under him, giggling and shrieking at the round of playful light kisses. "I love this little tummy. With all my heart. It's perfect, absolutely perfect, just the way it is. Don't ever change this little tummy. _My _little tickle tummy." He takes another deep breath, buries his face into the little roll under his belly button, and shakes his head as he blows out his raspberry.

Puriel squeals and laughs, boisterous uproarious laughter, as he blows again and again, shaking his head from side to side feverishly, arching his back again, kicking his feet under his mentor as much as he can. He can't take it, it tickles so bad, it tickles so much, he can't take it, he'll crack under this tickle torture, he'll say what he wants to hear, he'll say it, anything to get him to stop. "IHIHIHIHIHIT'S YOHOHOHOHHOHOHOUR TIHIHIHIHIHIHICCKLE TUHUHUHUHUMMYYYHYHYHYHY!"

"Can you repeat that?" He nibbles at the tummy roll, takes a deep breath, buries his face in again, and blows another massive raspberry. "I want to hear it again, it's what?"

"EIEIEIIAIAIAIAAHAHAHAHHAHAHA AHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA YOHOHOHHOHOHOURS! EIEIEIIAEIAIIAIAAHAHAHAHHAA YOHOHHOHOHOHHOUR TIHIHIHIHICCKLEEHEHEEHE TUHUHUHUMMY!"

"Do you admit that this is my little chubby tickle tummy?"

"YEHEHEHEHEHESSS! YOHOHOHOHOOUUHUHUHUHUUR CHUUHUHUHUHUHUBBYYHYHYHYHY TIHIHIHIHIHICKLEEHEHEHEHE TUUHUHUHUMMY!"

His mentor chuckles lightly, peppering more light playful kisses over his belly, and he giggles breathlessly, bouncing softly with every other kiss. "I really love my little tickle tummy." He sits up again. "Now, I want you to say something else for me."

"Whahahahat?"

"I want you to say; _'Abe, please give my tickle tummy some berries.'_"

Puriel shakes his head firmly. "No!" And bites his lip, shaking his head feverishly from side to side.

"Say it, or I'm going to nibble at this little roll all night long."

He smiles when his mentee squeals softly behind his closed lips, shaking his head again, just at the thought of that happening. "Say it, baby brother, say it."

Puriel bites his lip harshly, taking a deep breath, he giggles lightly as he opens his mouth. "Abe…." He thinks about the prospect of more nibbles, of nibbles all night, and licks his lips anxiously, in anticipation. "Abe….please….please give my tickle tummy…..please give my tickle tummy some berries."

"Why, I'd be glad to, Puri!" He leans over, taking a deep breath as he rushes down, and buries his face into his belly, blowing out a series of long hard raspberries. Puriel screams, squealing, again and again, as he blows raspberry after raspberry all over his belly, moving from spot to spot, he bounces wildly underneath him, kicking his legs again, tugging at his arms.

"NOHOHHOHOHOT AHAHAHAHHAHAGAAHAHAHHAIIHIHIHIHIN! NOT AGAIN! AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAEIEIEIAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHAH NOHHOHHOHOHOHOHOHOHO IIEIEIIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA AAHHAHAHAHAHHAEIEIEIEAIAIHAHAHAHHAHAHA! NO! DON'T! STOP IT! STOHOHOHOHOP IHIHIHIHIHIT! AAAAAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAIAIAIAIAAHAHAHHAHAHAAA!" Abraxos pulls away, taking another deep breath, and he screams with laughter when the Power makes a show of taking a deep breath, puffing his cheeks up, and slowly lowers himself back down. "NO! NOHOHO! ABE NO! STAY AWAY! NOT MY TUMMY! NOHOHO! EIEIIEIAIAAIHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHAEIEIAIIAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHHAHAABBBBBBEEHEHEHEHEHEHE AHAHAHAHAIEIEIAIAIAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHO MOHOHOHORE! IHIHIHIHI SAHAHAHAHAHAID IHIHIHIHIT! IHIHIHI SAHAHAHAHAID IHHIHIHIHIT AHAHAHAHAALLLL! EIEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOOREEE! EIEIEIAIAIAIAAHAHHAHAHAA PLEHEHEHHEHEEASE PLEASE EIEIEIIAIAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA! IHIHIHIHI CAHAHAHAHANT TAAHAHAHHAHAKE IHIHIHIIT! EIEIAIIAAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHA IHIHIHIT TIHIHIHIHICKLES SOHOHOHOHO BAHAHHAHAHAHHAAD! EIEIEIIAIAAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHHAHAHAEIIEIEIAIAAHAHHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHHAA!"

"Okay," his mentor pulls away, rubbing his hands over his tummy, as though to rub away the remaining tingles, as he giggles breathlessly, panting feverishly. He knows it's not done, not yet, they both get to have a turn, it's Nis's turn, and his armpits tingle at the mere thought of it. "It's then end of my turn." He continues to rub over his tummy as he looks up to their oldest brother. "Your turn."

Nisroc closes the book he'd been reading peacefully, as though his younger brother wasn't ruthlessly torturing their baby brother underneath him and sets it over on the bedside table. "My turn, already?" He reaches down, over his head, curling his fingers around the hem of his shirt. "He can have a small break while I prepare for my turn." Abe continues rubbing his tummy soothingly as his shirt is pulled up over his head, and his giggles slowly calm down, watching as his oldest brother reaches under himself for one of his hands, pulling the sleeve off completely, puts his hand back under his thigh, and reaches for the other one. He folds his shirt nicely and leans over to set it on the bedside table, over the book he'd been reading. "Okay, I'm ready, let's swap places."

He lays there limply, his arms stretched over his head, they're strong then him, they'd just get him back into this position and then it would be bad, so much worse, super bad, Nis would kill him. Abraxos and Nisroc switch places, his mentor sits on his hands, trapping his arms above his head, and Nisroc lays over him like his mentor had moments before, but higher, over his chest, directed towards his right armpit. Abraxos smiles at his Captain when their eyes meet, the little Elect giggling already, turning to watch him as much as he can, pressing his cheek to his upper arm. "Have fun."

"Oh, I will, I'm going to enjoy myself greatly." He looks over to their giggling Elect and smiles down at him, leaning over to peck his nose fondly, before turning back to the armpit under him. "I'm going to tickle torture these little armpits within an inch of their lives."

Puriel shrieks and jumps when a finger pokes at his armpit, poking all over, leaving no spot unpoked, the oldest Power settles over him, looking down to his tickle spot as he pokes around his armpit playfully, basking in the joyous shrieks and giggles echoing around them. "Aahehehehhehehhehahaehhhahahaa! NO! Let go! Abe! Leheheheet gohoho! Nohohot thehehere!"

"I don't think so, I _told _you I was giving these armpits a big old fashioned tickle torture, and I don't say things I don't mean." He stops poking, his fingers resting in the hollow of his armpit. "Are you ready for your armpit tickles?" Puriel shakes his head, pressing into his oldest brother's upper arm as he tries to turn and see, but he can't, he can't see, and that makes it so much worse, because if he can't see, he can't try to prepare himself for the attacks as they come. The finger wiggles in deeply, and he shrieks brightly, laughter bubbling up from within his belly and filling the space the giggles had left free for the taking. "Aahahahhahahahahahaha! NO! Ahahahahhahahahhahaa! Gehehehehet ihihihit ohohohout! Get it out! GET IT OUT!" The only thing that changes is another finger joining in. "AAHHEHEHEHEHHAHAHHAA! Bahahahahhahaha! Not there! Nohohohohot thehehehehehere!" The second finger disappears and the first finger circles around his armpit, away from the hollow, up to the edge, and then it slowly circles back down, all the while the younger angel is cackling, drilling his heels into the bed, shrieking when the finger returns to wiggle in his hollow again. "Aaahehehehehehehehehhehehe! Bahahahahahaha! Not there! Nohohohot thehehehehehere!" The finger pulls away and he gulps in air, his chest heaving wildly, his tummy shaking still from the force of his laughter.

And, it's then, that he hears the forewarning about what's to come next. "Time for some armpit berries."

And, that's the only warning he gets before there's a sharp inhale of breath, and a bearded face is pressing into his armpit, blowing out a vicious berry over the sensitive skin. Puriel screams with laughter, tugging desperately at his arms, squealing loudly when another raspberry I blown into the hollow of his armpit. "EEIEIAIAIAIAIAHAHAHHAHAHAHAA! NO BERRIES! NOHOHOHO NIHIHIHIS! NO AHAHAHAHAARMPIHIHIT BEEEEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIIEEIEERRIES!" His Captain only takes another deep breath and shakes his head, blowing out viciously over his ticklish armpit, another torturous raspberry. "EEIEIIEIAIAAIHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHIHIHIT TIHIHIHIHICKLES SOHOHOHOHOO BAHAHAHAHAHHADDDEIEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! EIEIEIAIAAHAHHAHAHAAH STOHOHOHOHHOP! NOHHHOHOHOHEOAHOHAAHAHHHOOOO MOHOHOHOHORE! PLEHEHEHHEHHEHEEAASE!"

He breathes feverishly, his chest heaving, when he finally pulls away, the tingles driving the giggles that continue to pour from his heaving belly. Nisroc smiles down at him, he knows that smile, he knows that smile really well, as he switches to the other side, letting him take a moment to catch his breath. "We can't forget the other side. Since I was kind of mean over there, I won't give this little armpit any berries, maybe, I'm not sure, I guess we'll both find out, after all, these little armpits deserve as many berries as they can get." Puriel's giggles pick up again when he feels the single finger circle around his armpit gently, starting at the edge, and working it's way down slowly, twirling around and around, it drives him crazy, because he knows what's going to happen once it reaches its destination. "Aaahahehhehehehehahahahaha!" The finger reaches it's destination, wiggling furiously into the hollow of his armpit, the giggles pick up into boisterous laughter, and he turns, pressing is cheek against the Power's upper arm again. "Eeehehehahahahahaha! Get it out! Nohohohohot thehehehehere! Get it out! Geheheheheet ihihihihit ohhohhout!" Another finger joins it, then another, until five fingers are fluttering over his exposed armpit, and he shrieks with laughter at the sensation, kicking his feet wildly, tugging at his arms again, Abraxos rubs his head fondly and turns the page in the book he's reading. "Ahahahahhahahahaaaeeieieiaiiaiaiaiaahahahhaa! Tihihihihihihihiickles! IT TICKLES!"

"It does, does it?" His fingers pull away for a moment. "Does this tickle too?" He buries his face into his armpit, pressing little kisses over the hollow of his armpit, takes a deep breath, and blows out a big berry right over the sensitive spot. Puriel shakes his head, screaming with laughter, pressing close against his oldest brother's arm, kicking his feet again. "EIEIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! AHAHAHHHAAAHEHEHEHEHAHHAHAHAHAAH! YOU SAID NO BERRIES! YOHHOHOHOOHU SAHAHHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAID! YOHOHHOU SAHAHHAID NOHOHOHO BEHEHEHERRIEEEIIEAIAIAHAHAHAHHAAHA!"

Nisroc pulls away slightly, "I lied." And rushes back down.

"AHAHAHAHHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHHAA! IEIEIIEAEIIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NO MORE! NOHOHOOEIEIEIEIHAHAHAHAHAHA! YOU SAID NO BEHEHEHEEEEIEIEIEIEIIEEIEIEHEAHHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHO! AAIAIIAIEIEIEIEIAHHAHAHAHAHAA NOHOHOO BEHEHEHHERRIEEEHEHEHEHES! NOHOHO BERRIES!"

"Time for my secret weapon."

"NOHOHOHO! NOHOHOOT THAHAAHAHHAT!"

His older brother chuckles softly at his protest, rubbing his bearded chin into his ticklish armpit, and the young Elect shrieks and squeals. "AAHAHHAHAHAHHAA! NOHOHOHOT THAHAHAHAT! NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHE BEHEHEHEHEHEHEEAHAAHAHAHAHARD! NOT THAT! NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHE BEHEHEHEEAAHAHAHAHARD! THEHEHEHE BEHEHEHEHEEAAAHAHAHAHARD TIHIHIHIHICKLES! IHIHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLES SOHOHOHOHO BAHAHAHAHHAD!"

"No beard?" He pulls away from his armpit. "Okay, no beard, how about this?" Five fluttering fingers reappear again and he shrieks, arching his back, bouncing under the Captain, curling his fingers under his mentor's thighs, he can't move, he simply throws his head back as he squeals with laughter. "Bahahahahahheeheieieiahahahahha nohhohohhohhoaahahahhahaa fluhhuhuhuhuhuhutters! Nohohoho fluhuhuhuhutters!"

"No berries, no beard, no flutters, what about this?"

"Aaahahhahahahahahaha nohohohoho! Thahahahahhaat's wohohohorse! GET IT OUT! Gehehehehehheet ihihihihihhihit ohhohhohohout!" The wiggling finger falls still be remains in place. "Nah, I don't think so." The moment it starts wiggling again, he screams with laughter, throwing his head back against his mentor's lap. "Aahahahahhahahahhaeeieieiaihaahhhahaha! Nohohohohooaooahahhahahaha nohohohoho! Nohohohoot thehehehehere! Thahahahahhaat tihihhihihihickles! Bihhihig brohhohohohother! Thahahahhahahaat tihihihickles! Ihihihit tihihihickles!"

"It does?" The finger pulls away. "Do these flutters tickle too?" Ten fingers flutter over his armpit and he squeals, nodding feverishly, even though the older angel isn't looking to see if he did. "Yehehehehhehes! Tihihhihihickles! Thahahahahhaat tihihihickles! Nohohohoho mohohohore fluhuhuhuhutters! Nohohoho mohohhohohore! Ihihihihihit tihihihiihickles!"

Hs fingers pull away again and he waits in anticipation for what's next. "That tickles too? What about these berries, do these tickle too?"

"NO! NO BERRIES! NOHOHOHOOEOEIEIEIEIEIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA! YEEISISIISIAIAIAIAHHAHAHAIAIAIEIIEIEIES IHIHHIHIIIAIIAHAHAHAHAHAHHHEIEIEIEIEIAIAIHAHHHIIIIT TIHHIHICHIHIIEIEIIEIAIAIAIAIAIAIAIAIAIIICKLES!"

"Good, good to know, here, have a few more."

"NO! NOHOHOEOEOAOAAOAOAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAEIEIEIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAA! EEIIEIEIAIAHHAHAHAHAHA AHAHHAHAAHA NIHIHIHIHIS EIEIIEAIAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHH! HAHAHAHAHHEIEIEIEIAIAHAHAHAHHAHA! STOHOHOHOHOP! NOHOHOHOAOOAHHAHAHIEIEIIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHA MOHOHHOOORE! TIHIHIHIIEEIIEIAIAIAAIAIAIAA! TIHIHIHICKLES SOHOHOHO BAHAHAHAHHAAD! IHIHIHIHI CAAHAHHAHAAN'T TAAHHAHAHAHAKEIEIIEIEIEIEEIAIAHAHAHAHA! IT'S NOT FAIR! STOHOHOHHOP! STOHOOHHOHOP! EEIIEIEIAIAAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHIHI CAHAHAHAHAAN'T TAHAHHAHAHAKE IHIHIHIHIT!"

Nisroc chuckles, and he hears the book thump closed above him, as he heaves for a breath, panting heavily. He turns to face him, resting on his elbows above him, and Puriel giggles madly, a tad deliriously, staring up at him with teary eyes. "Give me a kiss?" He puckers his lips lightly, and their little Elect giggles, shooting upward, pecking him on the lips. "I think you've had enough, that concludes your tickle torture."

"Yahahahay."

He pulls away completely, and he feels Abraxos shift, his mentor's fingers curling under his arms, and he's tugged backwards. "Come here, you." He's limp, completely dead to the world, and lays back against his mentor's chest, his head pressed back in the crook of his shoulder. He feels large warm hands rub at his arms, his mentor is so kind and gentle, and he tilts to the side slightly as he reaches over for something, he turns his head to see what it is, and a glass of water is held to his lips, a straw sticking out over the edge. "Take a sip, little guy." He nods, leaning forward, curling his lips around the straw, and takes a greedy sip, he takes a few, and then he leans back against his mentor again.

Abraxos leans over to put the glass back, and curls his arms around him, rubbing at his belly gently, and he hums, purring softly, he likes it when he gets belly rubs, they're the best, he really, really like's his belly rubs. "There you go, take it easy, here's a nice belly rub for you."

"That was mean."

"It was, we got a bit carried away, we're sorry." He feels a beard rub against his cheek and a pair of warm lips press in a kiss and he glances over, Nisroc smiles at him, pulling the blanket up over him, just incase he got cold without his shirt on. "Sorry, baby brother."

He smiles at him lightly. "It's okay. I had fun. And, it made me feel better." They both chuckle softly and he looks down to his lap, or what would be his lap, it he wasn't covered by the blanket, he's resting between his mentor's legs, and he curls his hands over Abe's knees lightly. "You guys really don't think I'm fat and ugly?" Nisroc's beard rubs over his cheek as he lays down another kiss. "No, I don't." Abraxos squeezes him tightly for a moment, before rubbing at his belly again, and leans in to press a kiss to his other cheek. "I think you're perfect just the way you are. You don't need to change a thing."

Nisroc leans back, resting against the pillows of the second Power's bed. "We're also happy you had fun."

"I had a lot of fun!" Puriel curls his fingers together under the blanket. "Ilikedit."

Abraxos chuckles under him, wiggling a finger into his belly button lightly, and the boy shrieks softly, shimmying from side to side. "What was that you said?" He stops his playful little assault and returns to rubbing his belly, it'll make him sleepy once he gets whatever's on his mind taken care of, he just has to clear his mind first. "We didn't catch what you said."

Their baby brother sighs softly, they'd find out eventually, he might as well get it out of the way sooner rather then later. "I said….I said I liked it…..I like tickles….I like how fun they are and I like laughing…..I like it." He closes his eyes, ready for the rejection, his guardian has said it was okay, but this is the real test, they're probably going to kick him out now, he really _is _disgusting. His mentor's arms squeeze around him again. "Okay, thanks for telling us."

He looks around, turning slightly to look up at him, as he returns to rubbing his belly once more. "You…You don't think it's disgusting?"

Abraxos smiles down at him, kissing his Elect on the nose lightly. "I don't think so," he turns to their Captain. "Nis?"

"I think it makes you even _more_ adorable."

He turns his attention back to the younger angel look up at him, and pecks him on the nose again, brushing their noses together lightly. "See, we don't think it's disgusting, it's okay to have something you like. If you like tickles, that's fine, we're happy to give you tickles any time you want them, you just have to ask."

Puriel smiles up at his mentor, turning just a bit more to wrap his arms around his chest, pressing in close, tucking his head under his chin. "Thanks, Abe." His mentor wraps him in his arms for a moment, hugging him close. "You don't have to thank me, my little Platypus, I'll support you no matter what." He turns him back around, pulling him back to rest against him, returning to his belly rubbing. "Now, you settle on down, it's time for you to nap, especially after the tickle torture we just put you through."

He yawns lightly, nodding back, curling his arms around one of his mentor's hands, his fingers scratch at his chest lightly as his free hand continues to rub at his belly. "I love you, Abe."

"I love you too, Platypus."


	304. Battle Wounds

He looks up as the others begin to trickle in, slowly and carefully, some nursing light injuries and bruises, he looks between them all, watching as Titus helps Haniel up the final stair, Abraxos curls his mace over his shoulder as he steps around them, Puriel stumbles up the stairs with his bow hanging around his chest and his sheath of arrows hanging over his shoulder, and he frowns, when Sablo and Tatrasiel bring up the end, walking tiredly passed the Lounge and down the hall, to wash up and rest.

No one else comes.

"Puri, where's papa?" His younger brother, resting his head on his stomach, tilts his head back to look up at the medic curiously, the memories of Nisroc not coming back, not the way he always promised to, still fresh in his mind, even though it had been months, nearly half a year, it was still a fresh wound. Both boys waited up there for him to come back when he was sent away on a mission or to the front lines, as though to make sure he did come back, to be the first thing he saw when he stepped over the final stair, a comforting sense of home as they curled around him tightly, thanking him for keeping his promise.

The medic raises a finger, as he pours himself a glass of water and gulps it down, he was hot, and thirsty, and sweaty, he couldn't wait to take a shower and just collapse on his bed.

Paul sits up from his reclined position, forcing Sasha to sit up, and they both turn to face him. "Puri, where's papa!"

Puriel sets his glass down and takes a deep breath to fill his lungs once more, before looking up at them, to address their worries. It was still fresh on all of their minds. "He's alright, he's staying in the Infirmary—"

"_What!"_

He waves his hand placatingly. "Calm down, I told you, he's fine, he just took a hard knock to the head and they're keeping him for observation to see if he has a concussion." It's no use though, they're already half way down the stairs, he shakes his head, it still haunts them much too much then it should, though he can't blame them, he'd been furious and depressed when Castiel, the uppity heretic little seraph, killed Raphael after devouring the souls (and Leviathan, that had been great, he took pride in the fact that they killed one, while they cleaned up his mess) and pronouncing himself to be the new god. He'd actually rooted Death on to destroy him, with as much ease as a primordial being could, but alas, it was not to be.

…

They skid to a stop just inside the Infirmary, scooping out their query, anxiously searching for any sign of him. Sasha makes a noise, pointing towards a bed near the back, a few paces away from Zed's workstation, he looks fine, talking to Oren, the Virtue standing at his bedside with his arms crossed loosely, his fingers tapping at his right upper arm. They dart forward, twisting around healers as they pass, evading them skillfully, and both Captains look up at the sound of their thundering arrival, and Nisroc grunts when they jump at him, one curling around his belly and the other around his chest.

Oren chuckles softly at the face he makes, and nods, leaving him to his privacy.

"Boys," he rubs his hands over their heads. "Boys, I'm alright, just a slight concussion."

Paul looks up, his arms curled around his chest, Sasha has his face pressed into his belly. "You swear, papa?"

"I swear, come on, unwrap yourselves." He pushes at them lightly, and they both pull away, a tad begrudgingly, the Power gestures to the two empty beds on either side of him. "Push the beds together and we can all sleep here together for the night." It'll make them feel better and he doesn't mind the company.

Paul and Sasha nod, pushing themselves off his bed, to push the two closer, making a twin bed into a king, and they climb up closer to him. Nisroc smiles down at them, as he settles back against the pillows, resting back against the headboard, he directs his attention down to his youngest when he sees a particular expression crossing over his features. "Hey, no long faces," he digs his fingers into the youth's belly, and he shrieks softly, squirming and kicking out as he assaults him with tickles. "You better turn that frown around, we have all night, and you know how creative I can be." Sasha nods frantically, shrieking with laughter, squirming around on his back as he tries to squirm out from under his assaulting fingers. "Good boy." He pulls his hand away, chuckling softly when the boy curls his arms around himself, twisting over to lay on his belly, just in case he had any more ideas.

He settles back, raising his arms lightly. "Come on, cuddle in close boys, it's passed your bedtime."

"Aahhh, papa," Paul cuddles up against his side. "Why do we still have a bedtime, we're not fledglings anymore."

The Power turns, kissing him on the nose lightly. "Because, having a bedtime means you'll get a good sleep, and that's what's most important." He pecks him on the nose again. "And, because I say you do."

"I hate it when you say that."


	305. Coming Home

She stares up at the large building as they approach, clutching at the Healer's arm tightly, suddenly feeling very overwhelmed at the idea of being around all of those people. She didn't know any of them, she didn't even know the Archangel, she regrets her decision, she wishes she had asked to stay with Thaddy. She knows Thaddy, he's kind and gentle, he never raises his voice, and it's just them upstairs, no one else, not crowded, not too many people, not like it was here.

She looks up when they stop, just over the last step, and the Healer smiles down at her kindly. "Just stay with me, I'll introduce you to your unit head in one of the back rooms, it would be much too overwhelming to do so in front of everyone else." She nods tightly, and he pats her hand softly. "Stay close, Onoel, everything will be alright." She nods, stepping closer to his side, hiding in his upper arm, peeking out as they step forward, into the fray.

Others greet them as they make their way through the crowd, and Raphael returns the greeting in kind, squeezing the young refugees hand comfortingly. Her unit head is already waiting for them in one of the back rooms, he'd been expecting her to ask to join him, she'd asked many a question during his examination, and she'd seemed interested in his answers.

Oneol squeaks lightly when she sees others looking her way, and ducks behind his arm, he pats her hand again, squeezing her fingers firmly. "It's alright, we're almost there, you'll like him. I promise. He's kind and gentle."

He guides her back through the beds, to a back hall, where the dormitories and offices lay in waiting. The Healer turns them in the direction of his office, reaching out to open the door, and ushers her inside. She peeks out from behind his arm, and another man smiles a her, waving a few fingers, she squeaks again and hides away once more. Raphael squeezes her fingers again, gesturing to the other man, and he smiles at her again. "This is your unit head, Oren, he works rather closely with me, so if you have any trouble, he'll let me know immediately."

"Hello," Oren waves a few fingers again. "You must be Onoel. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Y—You too."


	306. First Experience

She giggles as he settles over her legs, keeping her trapped underneath him, and he smiles up at her adoringly, he's mighty fond of his newest Elect, she's adorable, has the cutest little giggles, the most vibrant laugh he's ever heard, she's adorable, a breath of fresh air, and he swears to himself that his Elect of his isn't going to meet the same fate his last one did. This one is going to be protected at all costs, kept far away from Aunt, and never ever left alone.

He curls his hands over her belly, the tunic still covers it, but not for long, it'll be pushed up soon enough. He's got to get to that belly somehow. "Do you know what time it is, Tatra?"

Tatrasiel giggles harder, shaking her head lightly, she has a feeling, but one never knows with the medic, what may be on his mind. "No!"

He smiles at her. "All my little Elects have to go through it. Even the other Elects. You all must go through it." He wiggles his left index finger just under her belly button. "It's time for your first tickle torture."

She giggles again, shaking her head once more, squirming under him as much as she can. "Noho! Puri, no!"

"I'm afraid it must happen sometime. No better time like the present." He uncrosses his hands, slowly maneuvering them up under her tunic, walking his fingers lightly up her sides, her small hands shoot down, grabbing for his laying under her tunic, and she shakes her head again. "It's going to be super tickly, the most tickly tickle torture you've ever lived through, and it's my pleasure to be the one to give it to you." His fingers come to rest over her upper ribs. "I know all your little spots, I've done my research, I always do." He smiles lightly. "Are you ready?"

"Puri, noho, please!"

"Oh, it's coming, it's coming, and it's going to be so tickly, it's going to drive you crazy." He digs his fingers in slightly and she shrieks brightly, curling her arms tightly around her middle, folding in on herself tensely. "I think my fingers want to start, are you ready for it, ready for your first tickly tickle torture?"

"Noho, plehease, noho!"

"It's coming," he poises his fingers, preparing for his strike. "It's almost here." She tenses in preparation, as his fingers grow rigid over her upper ribs, and he smiles at her playfully. "It's here!" He digs his fingers back in, and she shrieks with laughter again, twisting from side to side, pushing at his shoulders desperately, before pulling her arms back in again, trapping his fingers in place, though, it does little to inhibit his attack. "Aahahahahhahaha ahahahhahahahaeieieiaiaiaahahahhahahahha Puhuhuhuuurriihihihihi! Plehehehhehehease! Aahahahahahhaha ihihihit tihihihihickles! Stohhohohohop!"

"I know it tickles," he spreads his fingers, clawing them in, and she shrieks again. "You're going to get lots and lots of tickles. I hope you're ready for your very tickly tickle torture. Because it has arrived, and it wants you very badly." He digs two fingers just over her highest rib, and she squeals softly, clenching her arms down tightly. "Are we all warmed up?" He nods lightly, dipping the fingers poking into her highest ribs up into her armpits, and she squeaks, trying to reach for his hands, and failing, seeing as they're wound up under her tunic. "I think we are." He pulls his fingers away, pulling his arms out from under her tunic, and he curls his fingers around the hem. "Let's see what's hiding under here." He pushes the bottom of her tunic up, making an exaggerated expression of surprise, and reaches over to poke her in the belly lightly. "What have we here?"

Tatra giggles, squirming from side to side, trying to cover her belly with her hands, but he manages to find free spaces to poke at. "Puhuhuhurrihihihihi! Nohohoho! Stohohohop!"

"Look at this cute little belly." He pokes a finger between her thumb and index finger and wiggles it in lightly. "It's so small." He curls the fingers of his free hand around her left wrist. "Get this hand out of the way, let me see this belly."

"Nohohoho!" The young Elect tugs at her captured wrist. "Yohuhuhuhu dohhohohohon't gehehehehet tohohohoho!"

"Oh, yes I do, I get whatever I want." He moves her hand out, pinning it to the bed under her, slightly ajar. "And, I want to see this belly." He leans over, to the side, and leans in closer. "What's this?" She tilts to the side, trying to look down, pressing her chin to her chest as she tries to see what he's seeing. "There's something there."

"Whahahat?"

"It's right here."

"Whahahat ihihis ihihit?"

"It's a…It's a….."

"Puhuhuhurriihihihihi!"

"It's a berry!"

"NO!"

He takes a deep breath and rushes down, burying his face into her side, and blows out a long vicious berry. "EEIEIAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA NOHHOHOHOHOHO WAIT EEIIEIAIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PUUHUHUHUHURIIIEIEIAIIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA AHAHAHHAHAHAHA! NOHOHO MOHOHOHOHORE! EIEIAIAIAIAAHAAHHAHAHAAHHA NOHOHO BEHEHEHEHERRIES! PURIEIEIEIAIAIAIAIAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHA AEIIEIEIEIAIAAIHHAHAHAHAHHAHA!"

He pulls away slightly, chuckling at her hysterical giggling, her fingers curled tightly into his quilt, she can't free her arm, she's strong, but she's no match for him. "I think I see another one."

"Puhuhuriihihihihi nohohohoho! Nohohoho moohohohore!"

"I told you it was going to be a tickly tickle torture." He brushes his nose over the skin of her side. "I _did_ give you fair warning." The Power takes another deep breath and buries his face back in her side.

"NO! WAAHAHHAHAAIT! NOHHOOHO! EEEIIEIEAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA PUHUHUHURIIHIHIHIEIEIIEIAIAIHAHAHAHHAA AHAHAHHAHHAEIEAIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHHA! AHAHHAHA STOHOHOHOHOP EIEIEIAIAIAIAIAHAAHHAHAHAHAA NOHOHHOO MOHHOOHOHORE! EIEIEIAIAAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHIHITS NOHHOHOHOHOT FAHAHAHAHAIR!"

"Hasn't anyone every told you the one true fact of life?" Puriel pulls away from her side, and leans over her, looming over her belly. "That life isn't fair."

"Puhuhurrrihihihi! Puri! Please!

The medic tilts his head. "Please, what?"

"Please! No more! It tickles! It tickles so much!" She pushes at his forehead with her free hand. "You big mean tickle monster!"

"It tickles, huh?" He reaches up with his free hand, curling his fingers around her wrist, pulling it down, like he had with the other one. "How about over here," he leans over to her other side. "Does it tickle really bad on this side too?"

"Puri! NO!" She edges away from him, tugging on her newly captured wrist, and leans as far away from him as she can. "No! Bad! Bad dog! Bad, bad dog!"

The medic pauses, his eyes flitting up to meet hers. "Did you just call me a dog?"

"Yes! You're a bad dog!"

"No, Tus is the bad dog." He starts his way over again. "_I'm _the bad _tickle monster_." He buries his face in her side again, this time on the other side, and blows a deep raspberry, she squeals, throwing her head back against the pillow under her. "EIEIAIIAAIAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOT AHAHAHHAAGAIAIAAN EEIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEHEEASE! EIEIEIAIAIAHAAHAHAHAHAHA PUHUHUHUHUURRRIIIIHIHIHIHIHII! AAHAHHAHAHHAHAHEEEAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! GEHEHEHHEHHEET OHOHOHOHOOFFF! BAHAHAHAHHAD! BAHAHAHAHAHAD TIHIHIHIHICKLEHEHEHHE MOHOHOHONSTER! BAHAHAHAHHAD EEIIEIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The older Power chuckles lightly as he pulls away from her side. "Let's find another spot to play with." She sucks in her belly when his attention turns down to it. "I think I found one."

"Arrgh!" She thrashes wildly, growling up at him, tugging at her arms feverishly. "Puri!"

"It's belly time."

Tatrasiel struggles against him, utilizing all of her strength, but it was still no use, she's never going to be strong enough to surpass him. He takes a deep breath and rushes down, burying his face into her belly, blowing a long string of berries, and it drives her mad, she throws herself back down, going as stiff as a board. "EEIEIIEAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA NOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHORE EEIEIAIAIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHHAAEIEIIEAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA! GEHEHEHEHET OHOHOHOOFFFF! EEIEIAIAHAAHAHAHA AHHAHAHAHHA PLEHEHEHEHEASE! PUHUHUHUHURRIIHIHIHIHIHIEIEIEIIAIAIAAHAHHAHAHHHAH BIHIHIHIG BROHOHOHOOTHER! STOHOHOHOHOP! NONONO! NOHOHO MOHHOHOOHOHOHORE! EIEIEIAIAAIAAHHAHAHAHHAHAHA IHIHHIHIHI CAHAHAHANT TAHAHAHHAKE IHIHIHIT! PLEHEHEHEHHEHHEASEHEHEHEHE!"

He chuckles again as he pulls away from her belly. "Let's try another spot, shall we?"

"Nohoho!"

Puriel let's go of her left wrist, as he pushes himself up, raising her right arm up above her head, he pauses to look down into her eyes. "You move that left hand, and I nibble on some toes, we on the same page?" She nods silently, biting her lip, watching him nod and lean up over her right armpit. "What have we here?" He pokes a finger under the edge of her short sleeve, wiggling it lightly into her armpit. "A cute little armpit." He curls his finger around the hem, pulling it down as much as he can without stretching her shirt, and he leans in closer. "It's hiding from me, oh, there it is." He leans closer. "We have to give it the same treatment."

"No we don't! No! Puri, no we don't! Puri please!" She clutches at the quilt with her left hand. "Big brother no! Big brother, please, no we don't!"

"We have to," he lowers himself slowly. "It's only fair."

"Lie isn't fair!"

"Which is exactly why this cute little armpit is getting some berries."

"EEEIAIIAIAIAAHAHHAHAHA NOHOHOHO! PUHUHUHUHURRIIIHIHIHIHIHI! BIHIHIHIG BROHHHOHOHOHOTHER! EEIIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHI CAHAHAHAAN'T TAAHHAHAHAHAKE IHIHIHIHIT! EIEIEIAIAIAAIAHAHAHHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHHAA! NOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHORE! PLEHEHEHEHEEASE BIHHIHIHIIG BROHOHOHOHOHOTHER! EEIEIIAIAIIAAHAHAHHAHAHA AHAHHAHAHAHAHHEEIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAA!" He pulls away from her armpit, letting go of her wrist. "If that arm comes down then I'm having a go at those feet, those little toes will get a fresh batch of nibbles." She shakes her head, curling her fingers in the quilt tightly, she's not going to invite those into this game, she'll keep her arm up there, she won't allow it to come down. The medic smiles down at her, curling his finger back around the hem of her sleeve, and leans over again. "AAAAEEEEIEIEIIAIIAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA THAHAHHAHAHATS CHEHEHEHEHEHEHEATING! AHAHAHAHHAAHHAHEEEIEIEIAIAIAIAHAAHHHAHHAHHHA NOHHOOHOHOHOHOHO! NOHOHOHO BEHEHEHHEHHEERRRIIREIEIEIEIEIIEAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHO BEHEHEHEHHEHERRIESSSSEEEIEIIEIAIIAAIIAIAAHAHAHAHAHA!" Her arm comes fly down, forcing the Power away, he chuckles lightly as her eyes widen, and leans over to poke her in the nose. "Those toes are going to get some nibbles today."

"Nohoho! Puuhuhuhuhurrriiihihihihi! Nohohoho nihihihiibbles! Nohohohot thehehehe tohohohoes! Nohohohot thehehehehe tohohohohoes!"

He leans back, laying down beside her, curling one of his legs over her to keep her from sitting up. "Give me that foot." She pushes at his leg, pulling hers away as far as she can manage, shrieking softly when fingers curl around her ankle and pull her foot back over, he pulls her foot up over his chest and looks over her curled toes critically. "Look at these little toes, so ripe, all ready for some nibbles."

"Nohohoho! Nohoho nihihihihibbles! Nohohohot thohohohohose! Ahhahahahhahhha! Theehehehehhey tihhihihihihickle! Nohohohot thehehehehe tohoohohohoes!"

"Uncurl those toes, missy." She shakes her head frantically, clutching at his pant leg, shrieking when a finger scratches lightly at the arch of her foot, and her toes spread involuntarily. "Good girl." He curls his fingers around the top of her foot, to keep her from curling back up, and tilts her foot to the side. "That baby toe looks particularly appetizing to me."

"Noohohohoho! Nohohoot thahahahhaat ohohohohone! Nohohohoo! Eehehehheehehe Puhuhuhuriii! Nohohohot thahahhahat ohhohohohone!"

"I want a taste of that baby toe."

Tatra squeals softly when he begins to nibble on her baby toe, curling her fingers tightly in his pant leg, and throws her head back as she shrieks with laughter. "EEieieiiaiaiaiaiaiahahahahahahhahahaha hahahahahahhahahaha nohohohohoho! Eieiiaiaiaiaiahahahahahahahahaeieieiahahahahahhahhaa nohohohot thehehehereeeieieheheheheheaahaahhahahahahahaha! Nohohhohohot theheheheheieieaiaiahahahahahahaahaha bahahahhahaaaby tohohohhhohohohoeeieiiaiaiahahahahhahhaha! Lehehehehhehet goohohohohohoeoeeoeeeieieiaiahahahahahahaha! I cahahhahahaant mohohohohoveeieieaiaahahahahhahaha! Yohohohohoour sohohoho mehehehhhhehehean tohhohohoho mehehehehehe!"

"Well, if you weren't so forlorn all the time, you wouldn't need as many tickles as you get, you need to stop worrying about not being right for this position, I wouldn't have chosen you if you weren't, you just need to be yourself." He wiggles a finger between her last two toes, and she shrieks softly, jerking her foot slightly, it only moves a centimeter, maybe not even that. "You're perfect, you're big brothers and guardian did you a disservice, you're a wonderful warrior, better then them, that's why I elected you and not them, you _earned _your election." He curls her toes back down. "They can shove it and stand in the shadow of your success."

"Eehhehehheeeaaaahahahhahahhaa! Nohohohot ahahhahahagain! Eeiieieieieiieaiiaaihahahahahahahahaha! Gehehehhehehet ahahahhaway froohohohoohom thehehehehhere! Aahahahahahehheaheheeieieiieieieiieiaiaiaiahahhahahahahaha! Gehehehehhet awahahahhahhaahahay frohohohom myhyhyhyhy bahahahhahaby tohohohohoe! Eieeiieiaiaaiahahahahhahaha ahahhahahahahhaeieieieaiaiaiahahahahahhahahahahaaha! Puhuhuhuhuuurrrriihihihihihieieieiaiaiaaahahhahahahahaha! Bihihihihig brohohohoohohother! Nohohoho mohohohoohoreeeieieiieiahahahahahahahaeieiaiaiaaiahahahhahahahaha! Plehehhehehehheheheaiaiaiaahahahahhahahhahahha plehehehehehheheease!"

"Say I'm the best."

"Yohohohohohoeeeieiieiiaiaaiaiaihahahahahahaaa stohohohop! I'm tryhyhyhyhying! Yohhohohohohou ahahhahahhreeieieiieaiaiahahahahahhahaha yohohohou aahahhahahahhare theheheheieiieieieieeheahahhahaahhahaha yohohhoohou ahahahhahahare theheeheheheh beeieieieiaiaaahahahhahhahaha yohhohhohohohou ahahahahahahaare theheheheh behehehheest!"

"Say I'm a better mentor then Abe."

"I cahahahhahahaan't! Nohohohot myhyhyhhyhyh bahahahahaby tohohooe! Eiieieiaiaiaahhahahahahahahha!"

"I'm not stopping until you say it."

"Yohohohohohhhuhuhuhuhu yohohohohhou ahahhahahhaareieieieiieahahhahahahaha yohohohohou ahahahahhahaare ahahahhahah beheeheheieieiieaiaiahahahahahahaa yohohohohou ahahahahahaare ahhahahaha behehhehehetter meeieieiieaiiaiaiaaaahahahahhahahaha yohohohohohou! I cahahahahaan't sahahahahay ihihihihhit! Eeieieiaiahaahahhahahahaha!"

"I'll keep nibbling on this toe all night until you say I'm a better mentor then Abe."

She shakes her head frantically, pressing her cheek against his ankle, hugging her arms around his calf tightly. "NOHOHOHOHOHO! Nohohohhoho! Nohohohohot ahahahhaall nihihihihight! I'll sahahahhahaay ihihihihit! I'll sahahahhahaay iihihihit!"

"I'm all ears, mmm, this toe is might tasty, if you don't say it in the next two minutes, I'm going to nibble on this cute little baby toe for an _hour_."

Her eyes widen. "Noohohohohoho! Thahahhhahahhats soohohohoo mehehehehhean! Yohohohoohou arahahhahhaharreieieieieaiaaiahahahahhahaha yohohohohohhuuhuhu ahahhahahahahahareehehehehhehe theheheheieieeieieiaiahahahahahaha yohohohohohuhuhuhu ahahahhahahahaareehehehehhee theehehehehhehe beheheheheeieieieiieiaaiaiaiaahahahhahahahahaha yohohohohuuhuhuhu ahahahhahahharreheheheheh ahahahahahhaa behheheheheheetttehehehehehehheer mmeeieieiiaeiaaiaiaaiahahhahahahaahaeaeeeaaeiiiaiaahahahahahhahaa! Plehehehheheheaaahhahahhahahase! Yohohohoohhuuhuhu ahahhahahhaarreeheheheheh ahahaha behehehehheettteehehehheheher mehehehehheenntohohohoor theheheheiieieieieahahhahahahahaha Puuhuhuhuhuhurihihihihi! Youuhuhuhhuhu aahahhahhhahahahaareehehehehhe ahahhahaa beheheheheheetttteehehehehheheheer meheheheheheheennttoohohohohoor theneneenenenene Ahahahhaabbbeieieiaiaaahahhahahahahah yohohohohuhuhuhuu ahhahahahahhahaarreehehheehhehe ahhahahha beehehehheeettteeheheheheher mehehehehehehentoohohohohor tehhehehehehheen Ahhahahahahhaaabbeehehehehehehehhe! I saahahhhahahahhaahaid ihihihihit! Puhuhuhuhurrihihihii I saahahahhahaaid ihihihihieieieieiaiahahahahahahaaieieaiiaiaaiaahhhahahha ihihihihihit! Nohoohohoho mohohohohorehehehehhehe! I sahahhahahaaihihihihihid ihihihihit!"

"I heard you, just a few more minutes."

"Nohohhohoho! Yohohhhoohuuhhuhuhu saahahhahahaid! Yohohohohuhuhuh sahahhhahahhahahahaaid! Puuhuhuhuhuhurriiihihihihihi plehehehehheahaahahhahase!"

"Let go of my leg." She throws her arms out wide, and he lets go of her foot, setting it down on the bed next to his head, she lays there limply giggling hysterically like a mad man, or in this care, a mad woman. The Power sits up, adjusting his position, laying down next to her limp giggly form, reaching over to tug on her left wrist, tugging her around. "Come here, you giggly pile of goo." She turns over, curling up over top of him, over his chest, and he curls an arm around her waist, rubbing her back soothingly, now was the time to wind down from the cruel tickle torture, admittedly, he may have gone a bit crazy there. Her frantic breathless giggle start to fade slowly, slowing down into intermittent little giggles, he knows how to tickle torture and he knows how to calm them down afterwards. "Well, that was fun."

"Yohohou are mehehean!"

"I told you it was going to be a super tickly tickle torture, the first one is always the worst, and then it calms down, slightly." Puriel rubs his free hand down the side of her head. "I did give you fair warning." He reaches over to the table next to them, curling his fingers around the glass of water resting there, there's a straw, he's always prepared. He holds it down before her, the straw before her lips, and softly instructs her to take a drink of water. "Take a sip." She nods against his chest, curling her lips around the straw, she takes a big sip, swallowing gratefully, she's parched. "Take another sip, baby girl." She takes another big sip, swallowing just as gratefully as the first one, and takes a third sip before she falls limp again, and he reaches back over to set the glass on the bedside table.

He slowly calms her frantic breathing down, rubbing at her back and her shoulders, and she reaches up weakly to curl the fingers of her right hand into the front of his shirt. "Now, you go on and close your eyes, you're going to be very sleepy, it's nap time after tickle torture time." She nods lightly and he watches her close her eyes, rubbing at her back and shoulders still, and waits for her breathing to even out, it takes a couple minutes, but it does. She slowly uncurls from her ball, stretching out slightly, rubbing her cheek against his chest comfortably, and he smiles down at her and scratches lightly at her shoulder, knowing that she likes it when you scratch her shoulders, she's cute, like a little pixie, his little pixie, Abe has Aba, but he has Tatra, she was his baby sister, his baby girl, he knows he made the right decision, and they'll work on her self esteem issues, things will get better with lots of time and affection, and he has lots of affection to give. "That's it, that's the ticket, you rest now, take a nice long nap, you've earned it."

"Mmm," she rubs her cheek over his chest again. "Love you, Puri."

He strokes his fingers over the side of her head. "I love you too, Tatra."


	307. I'd Come For You

"Thaddeus, get behind me." He orders, pushing the Warden behind him, eyeing the escaped prisoner carefully, he has no weapons, he'd never thought he'd need one coming to visit his oldest charge, the prisoner holds up a dagger threateningly, bloodlust in their eyes, they made it this far, they weren't going back to solitary without a fight, they weren't going back period.

They jump forward, slashing the knife around, and the Power hisses as it slices through his forearm, having thrown it up to deflect the blow. They jump forward again, and he pushes the two of them back, pushing the Warden back behind him protectively, and the knife sticks into his arm, and he yells in pain as the blade is pulled free and red blood drips down over his fingers.

Thaddeus yelps as his back hits the cell gate behind them, they have no where left to retreat, and presses his hands to Nisroc's back as he steps back again, smooshing him back against the bars, he turns his head, as the prisoner raises the knife over their head, preparing to strike a killing blow, the Power and Warden are defenseless. Nisroc turns away from the prisoner, looking over his shoulder, if the last thing he sees is one of his boys, then he'd be okay going out with that burned in his memory.

"Hey, asshole!" Their eyes fly open, seeing the blur charging down the hall, two blurs, one of them crashes into them, sending them stumbling to the side, just as the knife comes down, they yelp as it imbeds into their shoulder, and the prisoner grunts as a body slams into them, they drop the knife, swept off their feet, flying to the side as they're tackled to the stone floor under them. The two of them roll around for a moment, trying to keep the upper hand for themselves, and the prisoner yelps again when their opponent head butts them, and their head flies back, snapping back, as they're rolled over. A fist plows into their face, the blow sends their head smacking back into the stone flooring, and blood spurts from their nose. "Don't. Touch. My. Papa."

The two older angel's blink, it takes a moment to sink in, the youngest in their midst reaching back to pull the knife out of their shoulder. Thaddeus leans out from behind the Power's arm. "Sasha?"

They turn around, the dagger curled in their fingers, and offers them a tight smile. "Hi daddy, papa, how are you this fine afternoon?"

"Don't you dare ask me how my afternoon is going!" The Warden steps out from behind the Captain, grabbing the youngling by the arm gently, he turns him around to see his shoulder. "You foolish little youngling, let me see the damage."

Nisroc steps forward, towards his oldest charge and the unconscious prisoner, reaching out to grab him as his fist flies back again. "Paul! Paul, that's enough! He's incapacitated! Paul!" He curls his fingers under the boys arms and pulls him up. "Pauly, that's enough, he's down." The boy squirms, struggling against him, his fist raised, punching out into the air, blood coating his knuckles. "Pauly, calm down, take a deep breath. It's alright, Pauly, it's alright." He pulls the boy close, pulls him close against him, curling his fingers around his fists, he curls his arms around him, trapping his fists and his person back against him. "Pauly, that's enough, it's enough, he's not getting back up."

"He was going to hurt you, papa! He was going to hurt you bad!" The boy pulls against him, but he hugs him tighter, leaning forward, his lips brushing over his ear. "It's alright, Pauly, you saved me, you did good, settle down now, settle on down. Papa's okay, alright, papa's just fine."

"He was going to _kill _you! He was going to _kill _you _and _big brother Thaddy! Let me go! He deserves it! He deserves it all!"

"Pauly, Pauly, that's enough, you incapacitate your opponent, you neutralize them, you do not beat them." He leans over more, they bend forward slightly, and he presses their cheeks together, the boys hair brushes over the side of his forehead. "It's alright, Pauly, you're with papa. I promised never to leave you, remember, I'm right here. Relax for papa, unclench your fists for papa, take a deep breath for papa." He eyes the prisoner for a moment, curled around his oldest boy, Thaddeus would tend to their youngest, he knew Sasha was in good hands, it was his oldest that had the violent temper. He'd truly done a number on them, their nose was shifted to the side, crooked, most certainly broken, a cheek bone was split, a bruise already spreading over the skin around it, their right eye was swelling shut. Truly done a number. He squeezes the boy firmly. "Take a deep breath for papa."

Paul growls, but does as he says, inhaling sharply, waiting until he's told to let it go.

"Good, very good, take another deep breath for papa, slowly this time, relax, papa's right here, papa's got you." The boy nods, trying to relax, he feels his muscles loosen slightly, they're still tense, but not as much as they were before. "Good boy, now let it out, very good, now unclench your fists, unclench your fists for papa, curl your fingers through mine, do that for me, do that for papa." His fists shake lightly as his fingers tighten their grip, and then they loosen, his fingers slowly uncurl from his fists, and he spreads his fingers slightly to allow the boy's through. "Good boy, that's good, now, I'm going to let you go, and you're going to turn around to look at me, okay?" Paul nods once, and he unwinds his arms from around him, straightening back up, and the youngling turns around just as he'd told him to, looking up at him. "You did great, Pauly."

Guards drag the unconscious prisoner away, one darts off for the Healer, only he tends to the prisoners in solitary, none of them are stupid enough to stand against an Archangel.

Thaddeus walks around them, guiding Sasha down the hall, his hand pressed firmly over his shoulder, scolding him softly as they pass for being so reckless. Sasha's head is bowed at the firm tongue lashing, but he knows him rather well, just as well as the Warden does, he doesn't regret his actions.

"Come on, Pauly, come with papa." He guides the older boy around, down the hall after the Warden and their youngest, curling his arm around his shoulders. "Let's go upstairs, away from all of this, we'll stay up there for a bit, I'll rub your back, just like I know you like it, and you'll take a small nap, and when you wake up, everything will be back to normal again."

"Okay, papa," the flash of heated anger fades away under his soft reassurances, as they walk down the hall, and up the stairs, to the boy's big brother's quarters above them. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Pauly." He squeezes his fingers in reassurance. "I understand."


	308. Sick As A Dog

He knows something is wrong the moment he wakes up. His head hurts, his nose is stuffy, his throat is sore, his belly aches, and he's _really _cold. He groans, sitting up miserably, Hani is already gone, probably to get breakfast, just the thought of food makes him want to barf. He leans forward, tugging on Hamon's ear, he wants his big brother, he'd make him feel better. "Mon, I want Puri."

Hamon licks his cheek lightly and stands, jumping off the bed and trotting across the room, turning out the door. He groans softly, curling his hands around his face, he falls back against his pillows.

When he had been a new Elect, he'd gotten the chicken pox, he'd been as sick as a dog, but his mentor had made it all better, Puri, his mentor, had been so nice. He'd laid with him when he couldn't sleep, rubbed his belly when it ached, gave him medicine for his head, and rubbed a cool cloth over his forehead because he was so hot.

He wanted his big brother to make him feel better again.

"Hey, little dragon." He knows that voice, that's his big brother, that's the one who always makes him feel better again, he's the only one who calls him _'little dragon', _it's their thing, only theirs. He pulls his hands away, spreading his fingers, looking up at him. His mentor smiles down at him, sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning over to set his medicine bag on the bedside table. "I heard you were feeling pretty lousy."

"Big brother, I don't feel good."

"You don't look to hot, either." Puriel snorts lightly. "Pun intended." He leans over, pressing the back of his hand over his forehead lightly, Hasmal was different then most, seeing as he was made from fire, he was always running on the warm side, his version of a fever was a chill, he cooled down, much lower then he should, that was his version of a fever. "You're pretty cool there." He presses the backs of his fingers over his cheeks gently. "You've got a bit of a chilly fever, little guy." He pulls his hand away, resting on his knee lightly. "Tell big brother what hurts so he can make it feel better."

Hasmal nods pitifully. "My head hurts."

"Mhm, a hurting head." The medic reaches for his medicine bag, unclasping the latches, and pulls the flaps open to search inside. "What else?"

"My tummy hurts."

"Upset tummy, I got just the thing, and?"

He rubs at his throat lightly. "My throat hurts."

"Sore throats are the worst, anything else?"

Hasmal shivers slightly, curling his arms around himself tightly. "And, I'm _really _cold."

"Oohhh, sick and freezing, that's no fun." He digs into his bag, pulling out a blue vial, reading the label, he nods and sets it on the bedside table. He reaches back in, riffling around, making a funny face at the sick angel in the bed as he did, Hasmal giggles softly at his expression, and he looks down to read the label on a small red bottle, reaching up to set it next to the blue one, and reaches back in, and makes a frustrated noise. "Where the heck is it! I know it's in here!" He pulls the flaps open wider and looks in, digging around, Hasmal giggles again as he hears the soft clangs of different vials and bottles, Puri's bag was an organized mess. "There it is!" The medic pulls out a small yellow bottle and reads that label too, nodding in triumph, and leans forward to set the bottle next to the others. "And, last, but certainly not least," he pulls a thick fluffy blanket out of his bag, and the fire bender's eyes widen, as his mentor shakes out the blanket and tucks it around him. "Puri, how do you fit all of that stuff in your bag?"

Puriel reaches for the blue vial and turns to look at him as he pulls the cork free, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. "Magic."

He giggles again, drinking the potion in the blue vial when he holds it to his lips. "It is not magic. How do you really do it?" He makes a face at the aftertaste. "Eeww, that's gross."

"Sorry, I'm still working on the taste, that's for the headache." He holds the red bottle to his lips. "This is for the upset tummy." Hasmal makes another face at the taste. "And, I told you, it's magic." He unscrews the cap off the yellow bottle. "This one is for your sore throat." He downs that one too, makes another face, and nods down against his pillow.

Puriel closes his bag and leans around, brushing his hair back behind his ear. "It'll kick in, in a couple minutes."

"Puri, big brother, will you lay with me?"

"Sure, little dragon, scoot over for me." He scoots away for a moment, watching as the older Power climbs under his blankets, settling back against his pillows, and raises his arm. Hasmal scoots closer, ducking under his arm, cuddling up against his side. "Comfy?"

"Mhmm, you're warm, really, really warm."

"Good," he rubs his shoulder lightly. "Do you want me to rub your tummy?"

The younger angel nods lightly. "Yes, please."

"Okie dokie." A warm hand presses over his belly and rubs a soothing circle. "Feeling a bit better?"

"M'sleepy now." He nods against his big brother's chest. "M'really sleepy."

Puriel rubs his tummy softly. "I thought you might be. It's a side affect of the medicine I gave you. Don't fight it. You need all the sleep you can get."

"Mmm…Where's Mon?"

"He's eating breakfast, he'll join us when he's finished, I'm sure you'll be asleep by then." He hums softly, rubbing soothing circles over his little dragon's belly, and gives it a few minutes. He looks down to check on him and smiles, leaning over to press his lips to his forehead. "Sleep well, little dragon."


	309. The Perks Of Being The Youngest Pt 1

**You, out of everyone else, have a bedtime.**

"Alright, Gali, that concludes our meeting."

Galizur nods at his mentor's dismissal and stands from the desk chair he'd taken as his seat for this meeting, Nisroc smiles at him, rubbing a hand over his curls, and stands from the edge of his bed. He has a few things to finish up, he loved being the new commander, but he didn't appreciate the new paperwork that came with it, his brothers helped him with it for the most part, but they hated the paperwork even more then he did, so they left most of it for him to complete, because they were _nice _like that.

He walks over to his wardrobe, pulling the door open, expecting the younger angel to be heading down to his room, it was passed his new bedtime, and he knew what was best for him.

Galizur stands there, fiddling with his fingers, he's too shy to ask.

The Captain turns when he doesn't see movement out of the corner of his eye, and frowns when he sees his little Elect standing there still, fiddling with his hands. "Gali, you know better then this, it's passed your bedtime, you should be heading down to bed like you're supposed to."

"I know, I know," he feels vaguely as though he was letting him down and he didn't like that feeling. "I just….Can I….Can I please…."

Nisroc smiles knowingly. "Do you want to sleep with me tonight?"

The young Elect nods lightly. "Can I?"

"Sure you can, go ahead and climb in, I'll join you in a bit."

Galizur smiles at him, curling his fingers together, and his head bobs in a nod. "Thanks, Nis."

"Anytime, Gali, get on to bed."

The younger angel nods lightly, hopping forward, pulling the blankets back slightly to crawl under them, he cuddles down against the pillow, it smells like his mentor and it's comforting, he never thought he'd be back here, it was the reward for all the hard work he put in to making himself a better version of himself. He wasn't going to mess things up this time, all his life he had wanted to be a Power, and he wasn't going to let himself hold himself back from getting to his goal.

…

"But, papa, why do I have a bedtime and the others don't, that's not fair!"

Titus chuckles as he tucks the blankets up under his youngest guards chin, his son in all but blood, his little Sora, he loves him with all his heart. Little Sora has finally found his calling and he's so wonderful at it, he fits right in, and that's all he needed.

He sits on the edge of the bed and brushes the younger angel's hair out of his eyes. "Because, little angels who don't get enough sleep become cranky angels when it's time to wake up in the morning."

"But what if I promise not to be cranky, can I stay up and play more then?"

"It's a temping offer, little guy, but I'm afraid I'll have to pass on it."

Sorath pouts softly, his lower lip poking out. "Please, papa?"

Titus pokes him in the belly lightly, and the little angel giggles, shrieking softly when his wiggling finger knowingly finds a sensitive spot. "You put that lip away, mister, you know how papa feels about pouting little angels."

"I know, papa, I know!" He wiggles around under his blanket, giggling madly, trying to evade the torturous finger. "I won't pout anymore! I won't!"

"See that you don't." The Power pokes him one last time. "Or else papa's not going to stop that easily."

They both settle down, the little angel still smiling up at him, and looks over to his book shelf pointedly. "Papa, will you read me some stories?"

"Why, yes, papa will read you some bedtime stories." Titus pushes himself up from the edge of the bed, crossing over to stand before the bookshelf, placing his hands on his hips lightly. "What do you want them to be about?"

"Uuummm…..Dolphins and robots!"

He smiles, picking a few out, and returns to the bedside. Sorath scoots over some, allowing him room to lay down with him, and he makes himself comfortable, he runs the chance of falling asleep and if he's going to fall asleep, he's going to be comfortable. Sora curls up against his side, resting his head on his upper arm, and he opens the first of four books. "Okay, all comfy?"

"All comfy, papa."

…

**Dealing with protectiveness.**

Sablo feels the tension fade away when hands curl around his shoulders and thumbs press into the tense muscle. "I can see the tension you hold from across the field, what did they say to you?"

"Nothing, Abe, don't worry about it."

"Sab," he feels a sudden sense of loss when those fingers pull away from his aching tense muscles, and turn him around instead, forcing him to look his mentor in the eyes, he dreaded that happening, he can't tell a lie when he's looking him in the eye. "I can't help you if you don't allow me too. What did they say?"

Sablo bites his lip and looks down, averting his eyes, but the Power's having none of it, and lifts his head back up with a finger under his chin. "Sab, talk to me."

Sighing, he nods. "They said you made a mistake in choosing me. That I'm too small to be a Power. I'm not big enough." He looks away, to a spot just beside the older Power's head, and sighs dejectedly. "And….Well….It got me thinking….What if they're right? I am small. I've always been the runt. Even Tatra is bigger then me, she makes more sense then I do, I'm too small."

"Hey, look at me," the older angel turns his head slightly, his gaze shifting back to the Power before him, and Abraxos gives him the most serious look he's ever seen. "Look at me, Sab, not the flag behind me. If I thought you weren't good enough, I wouldn't have chosen you, it's not about how big you are, it's about how talented you are, how good you are at what you do, and you, you were the best in your entire squadron. I made the right decision, I always knew I did, I had no doubts about your capabilities, and I don't have any now." Abraxos looks over his head, meeting someone's gaze, and he knows that because he nods lightly to whoever is behind him and he tugs him forward. "Come on, you're done for today."

"But I still have to—"

"You're _done_."

He nods and follows after him dutifully, he misses the fingers massaging his shoulders, but he's too shy to ask him to do it again. He's been told it's an endearing quality. Abraxos leads him across the training field and up the stairs of the Pavilion, across the length of the Lounge, and down the hall for his room. Abraxos turns to look at him, gesturing for him to enter his room, and he nods, stepping passed him inside.

Sablo turns to look at the older Power when he comes to stand in the center of the room, and Abraxos steps in after him, closing the door behind him. "Now what, Abe?"

He gestures towards the bed. "Lay down. I'll rub away your tension."

The younger Power smiles lightly, Abe can read him so well, he doesn't even need to ask, and he turns to his bed, toeing his boots up, he crawls up over the bed and lays down, curling his arms under his head. "Thanks, Abe."

"Hey, it's what I'm here for."

…

He scratches at the back of the boy's head, Barbados had taken one look at them as they entered through the front door, and ran all the way here, huffing and puffing, wanting the protection of his guardian from the two that had caused him such suffering. He'd done away with the cages, given them to the blacksmiths to have them melted down into something useful, something that could be used for goodness instead of badness, he'd turned his chair around, scooted back a bit, and pulled the boy down into his lap, like Nisroc, he was used to working around a body sitting in his lap, it had all started with Sabaoth, he had been quite attached to him when he was younger, crying whenever he'd go to set him down, he rode around in his arms or on his back most of the time. Barbados curled in close, legs straddling his waist, clutching at the front of his tunic as he curled up against the crook of his shoulder, his soft curls rubbed against the side of his jaw.

He scratches at the back of his head gently, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest against his own, he's fast asleep, as he usually did with them when they came to sit with him, it was easier to work with them asleep, and a nice nap never hurt anyone. He taps the top of his desk with the fingers of his free hand, staring the two of them down heatedly, they shift from foot to foot, clenching their hands together before them, refusing to meet his eyes.

"I've been _assured _you've been shown the errors in your previous behavior, and turned a _new leaf_, is this true?"

Amitiel nods quickly, like her head is on a hinge, peeking up at him cautiously, and quickly looks back down when his red-hot gaze settles with hers, curling her hands together tighter. "Yes, sir."

He turns to Azbogah when he get's no response. "What about you, Azbogah?"

Thaddeus frowns when he gets no response, not even a nod of the head, and his tapping fingers falls still, coming to a stop. He doesn't stop scratching at his boy's head, Barbados would wake up if he did, and he didn't need that. "Azbogah, I'm not sure if you're aware, but Titus, your captain, has given me full permission to discipline you as I see fit for any insubordination and disrespect, I can be your worst enemy, I'm quite harsh, especially with my guards, as you have a certain conduct you have to maintain in _my _Prison, do you want to begin here again with facing my wrath?"

The male guard shakes his head firmly. "No, sir." He nods slightly. "I've turned a new leaf too."

"Mmm, I'll be keeping a close eye on you to ensure you have," the Warden begins tapping his fingers again. "Don't force my hand and we'll get along splendidly."

He looks between them both. "You're lucky Titus convinced me to give you a second chance," it had not been easy, he was rather abstinent on the matter, but anyone will agree to anything after they take so many berries over their belly, he'd never admit that though, and neither would the Power, it would be their secret. "He was going to dismiss you if I hadn't said I'd take you back, don't let me down this time, or I'll _ensure _you've turned a new leaf myself." He leans forward slightly, cradling the back of his boy's head. "And, if you _ever _hurt my kid, in any _way, shape, or form again, _I'll make your lives a living hell. Are we understanding each other?"


	310. The Warden's Ways

He smiles to himself, sitting next to them in their cell, his arms resting over his knees, basking in the sound of their laughter. "Wait, wait, I have a good one. What do you call a pig that does karate?"

The little prisoner leans forward, giggling softly, sitting crossed legged and facing him. "I don't know, Thaddy, what?"

He takes a moment. "A pork chop."

They howl with laughter, smacking their knees, bending forward as they're overcome by the force of their laughter. "Tahahaat's a gohohohood ohohone!"

Thaddeus smiles again, shaking his head in amusement, this little prisoner was too afraid of the chamber, and he'd never force someone who was scared to go back there, he wasn't that cruel. He could get on perfectly well sitting right here with them.

"You think that one's good," he glances over at them. "I have another one for you."

She nods, leaning forward again, listening intently, waiting for his joke, they were all horrible corny jokes, but if that's what made her laugh, then he'd tell as many as he could think of.

"Why do seagulls fly over the sea?" Yofiel shrugs, a smile stretching over her face, and he smiles at her. "If they flew over the bay, they would be bagels." She cracks up, leaning forward over her knees, and he chuckles softly once more. That's enough jokes. Time for some real fun. "Come here, you." He wouldn't give her tickles in the chamber, but that didn't mean he wouldn't give her tickles right here, he catches her by the front of her tunic, tugging her forward, and she yelps as she tumbles forward into his lap, as he crosses his legs before him, criss-cross style. "It's time for some tickles."

"Thahahaddy! Nohoho!"

"It's the belly and armpits with you." He buries his fingers into her belly, up under the hem of her tunic, and wiggles his fingers all over, from one side to the other, and she shrieks with laughter, pushing at the hand under her tunic. "That's it, Yofi, let me hear that adorable laughter." He curls his free arm around her, to keep her in place, as she squirms like a worm on a hook, laying over his lap. The Warden leans over her, and she pushes against his chest, her fingers curling in the front of his tunic, and he curls the fingers of his right hand around her wrist, pulling her arm up over her head, and pulls his left hand out from under her tunic, and reaches up with his index finger, sneaking under the edge of her short sleeve shirt sleeve. "We can't forget these little armpits." He pokes his finger into her armpit and wiggles it around playfully, and she shrieks again, it echoes around them, tugging at her captive hand frantically, her bright laughter filling in the silence, the hall is silent, everyone's being as quiet as they can be, trying to keep his attention off of them, lest they meet the same end, there would be lots of tickles today, he's free all day, and he needs to be entertained. "You have the cutest laughter, Yofi, I can't get enough of it."


	311. Tis The Season

He stands out on the deck silently, head tilted back, watching the flakes of white drift lazily from the sky. The big flakes, that stick to your clothes and the grass, that stick to your eyelashes and hair. His hound sits next to him, staring up at the sky with him, peaceful in the silence of slowly flowing snowflakes. The wind blows softly, a gentle breeze, and the flakes swirl around in a twirling winter dance. He likes this season, it's his favorite season, the music, the snow, the food, being together with your family uninterrupted, it was the only season that the warriors didn't train all day, only between noon and three in the afternoon, when it was warmest, meaning before and after, they were all together. Cookies were baked and iced, gifts were wrapped and hidden, they all curled up together to listen to the piano, or on those rare occasions watch a seasonal movie. Warm sweaters, he borrowed his from his older brothers and they never minded, warm hot chocolate, he loved everything about the season.

A door opens behind him. "Hey, you eskimo!"

He turns slightly to peer over his shoulder, snow flakes fall from his hair as he turns, and the older Power jerks his thumb over his shoulder. "Inside mister, you've been out here for thirty minutes-are you _barefoot_!"

"No."

"I can see that you are!"

"Then why'd you ask?"

The older angel waves him forward. "Come on, mister, you two need to warm up. Inside, let's go, you aren't even dressed appropriately for this chill. I can't believe you. It's like your some overgrown fledgling, no coat, no boots, no hat or mittens, inside, I'm catching a chill just looking at you!"

Rolling his eyes slightly, he looks down to his hound next to him, it looks back up at him. "You better not have just rolled your eyes at me!" Smirking slightly, he jerks his chin around, and the hound barks. "Come on, Mon, before Puri has a fit."

"Oh, I'll show you a fit!" Puriel snags him by the sleeve when he's close enough and tugs him inside, shivering slightly as he pushes the door closed behind him, and practically drags him into the Lounge. "You're lucky you didn't get frost bitten feet, or trench foot, that's reckless, even for you, and that in itself is saying something."

"I'm not reckless."

The older Power shoots him a dull look from over his shoulder. "Oh, yes, you are." He pulls him around in front of one of the couches, and pushes him down, between Titus and Nisroc, and they quickly bundle him up in a blanket. "Guys, I'm fine."

"You will be." Nisroc assures him softly, tucking the blanket around him securely, and curls his arm around his lower back, pulling him close against his side, and he smiles, leaning over to rest his head against his shoulder. "All snug?"

"Mhmm." Hasmal looks down when he feels a cool nose rub against his hand, and he nods, watching as Hamon trots off to stretch out by the fire. "It's snowing, Nis."

"I saw," he hears his older brothers amused rumble under his ear. "You're cold enough as it is, you need to bundle up when you go out in the snow, you know better, Hasmal."

"I know, Nis," he looks down to his hands. "I was just so excited, you know, I love it when it snows."

"I know you do." His Captain rubs his fingers over his hip lightly. "Bundle up next time, alright?"

"Okay, Nis."

Puriel returns, with a small tub of water, and sets it down at his feet. "Alright, feet in, mister, soak them for at least ten minutes." He nods, lifting his feet up as the basin is slid under him, and lowers them into the warm water, sighing in content, he truly was a cold person now. "I guess this means it's time to start making my cookie dough."

Hasmal smiles lightly. "Big brother, will you make me some hot chocolate?"

"With little marshmallows and whipped cream topping?"

He nods lightly, tilting his head, trying to look as adorable as possible, it's not too hard to accomplish in their opinion. "Please?"

The medic chuckles softly, reaching out, pinching his nose lightly, and the younger angel makes a scrunched-up face. "How can I say no to that face?" He stands up straighter, and turns, leaving them for the kitchen, to make a mug of his famous hot chocolate.

Nisroc squeezes him gently to his side. "Why don't you take a nap?"

He looks up at him. "What about my hot chocolate, though, Nis?"

"You know it'll stay warm while you're sleeping." He squeezes him close again. "And, besides, if it does _happen _to cool down, I'll just heat it back up for you."

Hasmal smiles up at him. "You're the best big brother." And leans in closer, curling up slightly against his side, Nisroc pulls the blanket around him just a bit more snug like and rubs at his arm lightly. Titus begins reading aloud from his book, and if it happens to make him sleepier, then no one says a thing about it, and if he wakes up to his feet in thick wool socks, he just sips on his hot chocolate and wiggles his toes.

…

"Alright, is this a good place?" He's moved their tree four times already, but he doesn't mind, if it makes their firefly happy, then that's all that matters to him, he'll move it as many times as he needs to. "This is where we had it last year."

"That's good!" Hasmal nods as he sits on one of the couches, leaning over to pull ornaments out of a large box, looking them over one by one, smiling as the memories all come back to him for their origins, and sets them aside as he looks them over, he reaches back into the box and pulls out a scarf, stuffed in last year during the clean up, and he smiles, leaning over to wrap it around Hamon's neck. The hound barks and nips at his fingers but lets him curl it around his neck all the while, and he smiles at him. "You look good, Mon." The hound barks again and licks his fingers, settling back down to chew on his bone, and Hasmal returns to sifting through the box again.

He pulls out the string lights first, and stands from his place on the couch, making his way over to the tree, he carefully winds them around and around, and plugs the plug in, smiling as he steps back a step, admiring his work thus far.

"Okie dokie, I've got cookies, be careful, they're still fresh out of the oven."

Puriel sets a plate of sugar cookies on the coffee table, and comes to stand behind him, munching quietly on a cookie. "Looks good already, Mal."

"You think so?" Hasmal looks over at him, and makes a face, smacking him in the belly lightly. The older angel grunts softly but takes another bite of his cookie without interruption. "Puri, you can't have the first _and _second cookie."

"Why not?" The medic chuckles softly, finishing off his cookie, and pats his belly lightly. "I love me some cookies."

Abraxos snorts as he joins them, swiping a cookie up for himself, and takes a bite, humming in delight, as good as they always were, he expected nothing less. "We all know how much _you _like cookies."

"Hey, I don't hear you complaining when you decide you want to take a nap on me."

"I'm not complaining, I like your squishy belly," he pokes his fingers into the medic's belly, as though he was fluffing a pillow, and the medic squeaks, jumping away from him. "Makes for a good pillow."

"Would you stop that!"

"Why?" Abraxos reaches out to do it again. "Is your belly just a wee bit sensitive?"

Puriel smacks his hand away. "Quit it!"

"Abe," Nisroc admonishes lightly, hanging a red bulb on the tree, sparing them a glance over his shoulder. "Don't torment him."

"Thank you, Nis."

"Wait until later."

"I hate you all."

Hasmal looks up at him, taking a small bite from his own cookie. "Except me, right?"

"Yea, pal, except you. I love you. You're my favorite."

"Aw, thanks Puri, you're my favorite too." The youngest of them hugs their medic around the middle, Puriel smiles, curling his arms around him. "You make me cookies and hot chocolate."

"Is that why I'm your favorite?" He chuckles softly. "Because I make you goodies?"

"No, but it does most certainly help."

"Ah, I see, well, you're welcome."

Nisroc turns, leaning around them to grab his own cookie, he wants to get one before Haniel joins them and eats them all, little piggy that he is. "I thought I was you're favorite, Maly."

"You're my favorite too, Nis, don't worry."

Abraxos smiles down at him. "Am I your favorite too, firefly?"

"You're all my favorites."

"Aww, Maly." They come together, trapping him in a group hug, Hasmal shrieks softly when he feels fingers wiggle into his sides and belly, squirming around in between the three of them. "Group hug."

"Wahahait! Wahahait! Nohoho!"

…

They stalk him as he makes his way around, hanging lights around the rafters, minding his own business, humming to himself as he worked, and they smile, turning to the elder next to them, elbowing them lightly in the side, nodding, gesturing to the youth heading their way, and their companion smiles, nodding along, silently closing their book and setting it aside on the table next to them.

Waiting until he was in position, they turn slightly, reaching over the back of the couch, and capture the back of his short-sleeved shirt, tugging him back sharply. He yelps, shrieking brightly as he tumbles back over the back of the couch, dropping the string of lights as he throws his arms out to catch himself. Grunting lightly as he lands between them, his feet hanging over the back of the couch, they smile down at him.

"Hey, Maly." Abraxos pokes him on the nose, shifting his position, his legs still outstretched, feet resting on the ottoman, ankles crossed lightly. "It's coming together quite nicely."

"It would be nicer if you didn't interrupt me." He glares at him heatedly, squirming around to flip himself over, he was agile like that. Someone pokes him in the belly and he squeaks, jolting lightly, and falls limp as he turns to the other. Puriel smiles down at him. "Where are you going, little guy?"

"Puri, I'm not in the mood, I was in the middle of something."

"What better time to pull you over, then."

Hasmal glares at him too, and squeaks again, jolting closer to his brother on the other side, when the medic pokes him again. "Hey, you know you're not allowed to glare at us."

"Puri, I think he's forgotten what happens when he glares at us."

"I agree, Abe, I think he has too."

"As his older brothers, it's our job to remind him."

"I concur."

"Guys! Guys, this is so not cool!" He throws his head back, covering his face with his hands, and whines dramatically. "I was _dooooing _something!"

"And, you can return to it once we're done with you." Puriel pokes him in the side and he jolts over against Abraxos on his other side. "Let's get him all squirmy, Abe."

"Why, of course, Puri." He pokes him back, and Hasmal jumps over against the medic, he bounces from side to side, giggling high pitched fledgling-like giggles, for what feels like an eternity. "Look at him, he can't hold still, he's all bouncy and giggly."

The medic nods thoughtfully, smiling down at their giggling baby brother, he stares up at him, as though he knows he's up to something. "I want to poke around just a little," he reaches over for his right hand, curling his fingers around his wrist, and slowly lifts his arm up above his head. "Right here." He leans forward just a bit, dipping his finger under the cuff of his t-shirt. "Just under here." And digs his finger into the younger angel's armpit, Hasmal shrieks softly, curling up as much as he can, laughter erupting from him. "I knew this would be a good idea. My little giggle button."

"Oh, Puri, I have my own giggle button."

"Do share, Abe, do share."

Abraxos smiles at him, basking in his soft uproarious laughter, and reaches his hand back, under the younger angel's shirt. He squeals softly when he wiggles his finger in his belly button, kicking his legs wildly over the back of the couch, squirming harder then ever.

They laugh softly at his suffering for a few minutes. "Abe, do you feel as though he's had enough?"

"I'm not sure yet, maybe a few more minutes."

"Understood."

They carry on for a few more minutes. "Okay, I think he's had enough, Abe."

"I concur, Puri, I concur."

They pull away, reclining back, Puriel lifts his legs up to rest on the ottoman himself, crossing his ankles lightly. Hasmal giggles breathlessly, flipping over on the couch, resting his feet in the medic's lap, and his head in the others. Abraxos smiles down at him, running his fingers through his hair, and he returns his smile, turning into his stomach slightly, hiding his face. "Aww, someone still gets all blushy when you push his giggle buttons, that's so cute."

Puriel chuckles softly, rubbing at his feet gently, nodding along. "Yea, he's still our cute little guy, nothing's changed."

…

One of his favorite things about the cold winter season was eating Nisroc's famous stew, he smiles to himself, at the thought of the taste of it, as he chops the potatoes up. Looking up, he smirks slightly, it's always a good sight to see when _he _gets a taste of his own medicine. Abraxos has him pinned on his back, holding him down by the waist, and is blowing vicious raspberry after vicious raspberry into his bare belly, his sweater pushed up over his chest. Puriel's laughter had since fallen silent, after the third raspberry, and it was only a disfavor to him that his belly was just so sensitive. Sitting on the couch behind the second oldest Power, Haniel is laughing at him and his predicament, leaning forward to get a better view.

Titus is napping in his room with Sora.

He looks up when he feels someone rub against his back, laying his knife down as arms circle around his shoulders, Nisroc leans over, resting his chin on his shoulder, his beard rubbing against his cheek lightly, and he smiles, rubbing their cheeks together, he feels their Captain smile at the feeling, rubbing their cheeks together again. "Abe, don't kill him, why don't you and Puri give Hani a real reason to crack up like that."

"Hey! Wait! Nohoho!"

Haniel fumbles in his attempt at a quick escape, as both older Powers lunge for him, and Abe tugs him down over the medic, and Puriel wraps his arms around him to keep him in place. He moves his arms up to curl around his chest and digs his fingers under his arms, the younger Power shrieks with laughter, kicking out at the other Power when Abraxos tries to push his sweater up, so he adjusts his position, straddling his legs, he manages to push the sweater up and bury his face in the younger Power's belly and blows a long vicious raspberry, Haniel squeals brightly, kicking his legs under the older Power and trying to pry the medic's fingers out from under his arms.

Their Captain chuckles softly, looking down at the chopped potatoes, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. "Those are perfect, Maly." He reaches around him to scoop the potatoes up in his hands, and steps away from him, the youngest of them, turns to watch him, setting his knife in the sink, since he helped cook, he doesn't have to wash it. He returns to his oldest brother's side, ducking under his arm to curl around his side, watching as he stirs his stew, it's runny right now, but it'll thicken up as it simmers. "Now we just let it set, thicken up as it simmers." Nisroc rubs his arm lightly. "Why don't you go save Hani from our vicious brothers."

"And be their next victim?" He shakes his head lightly. "I think I'll pass."

His Captain sets the large wooden spoon down on the counter next to him, and turns, wrapping him in his arms. "Who said you _weren't _going to be their newest victim?"

He barely has time to process the implications of that question, when he's lifted off his feet, arms curled around him tightly, and his oldest brother is moving him across the room. Haniel's squeals fall silent, he can hear his panting breathless giggles, and a short grunt as he's tossed aside, thumping against the floor next to the medic.

Nisroc bends slightly. "I have another plaything for you two."

"No!" He squirms as arms curl around him from behind. "Betrayal from my own blood!"

"I've always been a traitor, Maly, I thought you remembered that."

Hasmal squirms as arms curl around him from underneath, his head resting in the crook of the medic's shoulder, Nisroc chuckles deviously as he leaves him there to a fate worse then death, and he kicks out at his older brother when he tries to lean over him, he's not going down without a fight, even if his downfall is inevitable, he'll go out fighting the whole way.

Abraxos grunts when he catches him in the jaw, leaning back to rub at his lower jaw, he glares down at him, and he smiles up at him, stretching out to poke him in the cheek with his big toe. "You _little _shit." His eyes widen when he snatches up his foot, the right one, the one that caught him in the jaw. "Now you're _really _going to get it."

"You have fifteen minutes." The Captain calls from the kitchen. "Make it count."

"Hey, Abe," the medic's voice rumbles in his head, and the aforementioned Power looks over his head to meet the medic's eyes, he knows he's smiling, he can't see it, but he can feel it. "Remember the toes?"

"Oh," he nods. "I remember the toes."

Hasmal squeals with laughter as he starts to nibble gently on his toes, kicking out with his free foot, Abe had done this all the time before he was taken, usually with Puri holding onto his other foot, Nisroc had been too busy for such frivolous things, but they hadn't been, they'd had a grand old time. "Stopstopstopstop! Bahahahahhahahaeieiaiaiaiahahahhahaha stohohhoohop! Nohohohot theheheheheh tohohohohohoes! Nohohohoho! Ahahahahahhabbehehehehehe!" He pushes his chest with his other foot, but he's like a boulder, unmovable, and he tilts his head to nibble on his baby toe, and he squeals again, tugging desperately at his captured foot. "Whyhyhyyhy mehehehehe!"

"Because," Puri's voice purrs in his ear. "We need to make up for lost time."

"Guys…" Titus joins them, coming to stand at the front of the hall, rubbing at his eyes lightly, rubbing the grains of sleep away. "What's with all the noise?" He turns to look at them curiously. "Sora's napping."

Puriel smiles at him, chuckling over their baby brother's squealing laughter, turning to look at him as he adjusts his grip around their youngest's stomach. "Sorry, he asked for it, kicked Abe in the jaw and everything."

"He did?"

"Mhmm, Abe's just punishing him now, you remember the toes, don't you?"

"Ooohhh I remember me those toes." He smiles at the younger angel when he turns reaching out for him, hoping he was there to aid him, and not them. Never let it be said that that Titus doesn't have a devious side. "Making up for lost time, too?"

"Mhmm, have to catch up on that lost time, he has forty thousand years' worth of tickle tortures to live through."

"Well said, has anyone called dibs on those other toes?"

"No, no, they're open for the taking."

"Cool, I want in on those toes, too." He crosses over to them, claiming the spot next to his older brother, and reaches out for his kicking foot. "Give me that foot."

"Nohoho! Tuhuhuhus! Nohohoho!" He squeals when the older angel catches his foot. "Eeeeeeehehehehhe nohohohoho!"

…

It's Christmas morning, and he wakes up before the sun even rises, smiling to himself, it's his favorite holiday, not for the gifts, though those are nice too, but for the time he gets to spend with his family, more time, less interrupted time.

He turns out of his bed, setting his feet on the cool floor under him, and looks over to his hound. Mon yawns, sitting up at his getting out of bed, and follows him, jumping off the bed, when he stands and makes his way across the room.

Gently opening the door, he steps out into the warm hall, closing the door behind him once more, him and his hound make their way silently down the hall, towards the Lounge, and stop just at the entrance, and he smiles, taking in all the boxes wrapped in silver and gold paper, he's so happy and excited, he can't wait to see what his older brothers have gotten him this year, his second year back, the first Christmas had been bitter sweet, but this one, this one was just sweet, no bitterness to be found.

He turns, creeping his way down the hall again, to the bedroom at the end, and pushes the cracked door open slightly, peering inside. There's a mound under the blankets, soft snoring fills the silent spaces in the room, he sleeps curled up on his side, he always had, it's perfect for cuddling up with him. Pushing the door open just a bit more, he steps in, Mon steps in behind him, and he pushes the door back to it's original state. Era sits up from his fluffy dog bed, his beloved bunny laying over his front paws, looking at them in interest, to see what they're doing here, and he smiles at him, knowing that he can see him in the dark, after being surrounded by darkness for as long as they had, they've become quite adept in seeing in the darkness of night.

Creeping across the floor, he leans over, shaking the oldest Power's shoulder lightly. "Nis?" He whispers. "Nis?"

Nisroc snorts awake, he's always ready to wake if he's needed, so it only takes two shakes to his shoulder. He squints in the darkness, the fire in the fireplace has died down, the embers glowing a bright orange, it's not casting very much light out into the rest of the room. "Mmm, Maly?" He pushes himself up slightly. "Are you alright?" And rubs at his eyes lightly. "Did you have a bad dream?"

Hasmal shakes his head. "No, I didn't have a bad dream. It's Christmas morning, Nis, can we go open gifts?"

A soft warm chuckle reverberates around the room. "How about a bit later, the sun hasn't even risen yet, you should get some more sleep."

"I'm so excited, Nis, I don't think I can go back to sleep."

"No?" He yelps as he's tugged down swiftly, fingers curled in the front of his long sleeved night shirt, and quickly tugged around under the blankets, pulled back firmly against his oldest brother's chest, arms wrapped around his waist, spooning in a platonic sense of the word. A bearded chin rubs against his ear as a tender kiss is pressed over his cheek, before the Captain nods back down against his pillow, the youngest brother tucked under his chin lightly. "How about now?"

Hasmal's so nice and warm, he's cozy, and his big brother makes him relax in his embrace, sleepiness washes over him, they do this all the time when he's too excited and wakes up before the sun has risen, and comes to ask his Captain if they can do whatever's got him so excited, Nisroc pulls him down into his bed with him, and it always makes him sleepy, in his big brothers protective embrace, wrapped in his arms, him as a warm presence behind him, tucking him under his chin lightly, the blankets pulled up over top of him, up under his chin, warm and cozy and protected, it always makes him sleepy. "M'sleepy." Hamon hops up on the bed and curls up at his feet, he always sleeps with him, so he can lick his cheeks if he has a nightmare to wake him up, no matter where he's sleeping.

The chest behind him rumbles as his older brother chuckles softly. "I thought you would be. Go back to sleep. We'll open gifts in a few hours, after the sun has risen."

He yawns softly, nodding down in his big brother's pillow, pulling one of his arms up to curl around his chest, so he can wrap his arms around it, his fingers scratch lightly over the other side of his ribs and fall still. "Mmm, okay, biggest brother."


	312. Words As Weapons

"Abe, this is the third time he's missed out on supper, I suspect he doesn't eat lunch, and I know for a fact he doesn't eat breakfast." Nisroc looks down the hall to their rooms, leaning over his full plate, his mind was too flustered to think about eating his food. "I made his favorite; turkey and potatoes, I even made cherry pie for desert, he _loves _cherry pie, but he said he wasn't hungry."

Abraxos lifts his face from his hands, looking over to his Captain. "I have a strong feeling he's being bullied again."

"Did he say who?" He'd threatened to expel Hofniel and Theliel if he'd ever caught wind of them body shaming their little Elect again, such things were taken very seriously, no one was created in the same image, they came in all heights and sizes.

The boy's mentor shakes his head. "Nothing's been confirmed, he keeps saying he's just focusing on his studies, but I'm not blind, I see him staring at himself in the mirror, pressing his hands to his tummy, he's ashamed of himself."

Their Captain rubs his hand over his beard lightly. "You should go talk to him, he listens to you, more then he does me, you're words are as good as gold to him."

Abraxos nods firmly. "I'm going to go see to him." He scoots his chair back and stands, walking around the edge of the table. "Make him up a plate. I'm not coming back without him." Nisroc nods, turning to the side, standing from his seat, and makes his way over to the serving dishes, reaching for a plate in the cabinet above.

He sighs as he makes his way down the hall, stopping at the door across from his, runs his fingers through his hair, and reaches up to knock on the door lightly. "Puri, can I come in?" He waits for a few long moments for his entrance to be granted, and the voice that responds is a small on, meek, upset but clearly trying to hide that it was upset. He twists the door handle and pushes the door open, stepping into the room, his heart breaks for his little Elect.

Standing in front of the mirror, topless, a tape measure wrapped around his belly, his little Elects tear shining eyes look back at him, his lower lip trembling. "Abe…I didn't get any smaller…I didn't get any smaller, Abe…."

"Oh, little platypus," he coos soothingly, closing the door behind him for some sense of privacy, he steps into the room, crossing over to stand behind him, reaching around for the tape measure in his shaking hands. "Don't do that, little platypus, you don't need to do that." He turns him around by the shoulders. "Come here." His little Elect was a tiny shrimpy little thing, and he lifts him easily from his feet, hands curled around his ribs, he lifts him up, pulling him into his arms. Puriel slowly curls around him, the tears finally breaching their dams, and dampen his shoulder. He rubs his back soothingly, swaying from side to side gently, spinning in a slow circle, away from the mirror, they'd remove that damned thing from his room. "Is that why you haven't been eating?"

"I—I wanted t—to be li—like you an—and Nis!" He wails softly. "I—I..I don't wan—want to be ch—chunky any—anymore!"

He moves his hand up from rubbing soothingly at his back to brush through the curls on the back of his head. "Who said you were chunky?"

"Th—Theliel did! H—He said s—someone chunky l—like me couldn't b—be a Power!"

"Theliel is still bullying you?" The little angel nods against his shoulder. "Oh, little platypus, why didn't you tell me?"

"I—I wanted t—to be strong l—like you!" He feels him curl his fingers in the back of his tunic. "I—I didn't w—want to be a c—cry baby!"

"Telling someone that you're being hurt doesn't make you a cry baby, words can hurt just as much as actions, sometimes even more so." Abraxos returns to rubbing his back. "_I'll _talk to him _myself_. No one, absolutely no one, hurts my little platypus and gets away with it." He presses a kiss to the side of their youngest's head. "You're beautiful just the way you are, Puri, there's nothing to change, nothing _needs _to be changed, and I'll remind you that every day, all day, you are _beautiful_, a _wonderful _person, absolutely _stunning_."

"I—I'm not chunky?"

"No, you most certainly aren't. Theliel is just jealous, jealous that you were the one I picked, _you're _going to be the Power, not him, you _deserve _it so much more."

They fall into silence for a moment, and then he hears it, the slight rumble of a hungry belly, and he smiles, rubbing his back again. "Hungry?"

Puriel nods against his shoulder. "I'm really hungry."

Abraxos turns them towards the door. "Let's go get some supper, Nis made your favorite, turkey and potatoes, and for dessert we're going to have a big piece of cherry pie."

His little Elect sniffles softly. "With whipped cream?"

"Of course, with whipped cream, we're not heathens." He smiles when he hears the boy giggle softly, reaching for the door handle, he twists it open, and steps out into the hall, carrying them down for the kitchen. Nisroc is waiting there, still leaning over his plate on his elbows, and smiles at their appearance, concern lights his eyes though as he looks to their little Elect. Abraxos shakes his head, reaching back slightly to tuck the tape measure into his pocket, he'd tell his Captain later, after they put their little guy to bed.

His Captain pushes a chair out across from him, the place he placed the third plate, and Abraxos nods in appreciation, leaning over to set his young mentee down in his chair, pushing it back in once he's seated. He ruffles his silky little curls, resting his large hand on the little angel's head, and leans over to pass him his fork. "Take a big bite for me." Puriel stares down at his plate of turkey and potatoes, unsure, and the hand resting on his head rubs in gently. "You're beautiful, platypus, go on and take a bite, you must be famished." He nods lightly, gathering some potatoes on his fork and stabbing the ends into a piece of turkey, he hesitates, before plopping it in his mouth. The young Elect hums in pleasure and chews, gathering up more on his fork, and the two elder Powers smile at him as he eats his meal, the first one in three days, with much gusto.

Abraxos ruffles his curls one last time and leaves his side, crossing back around the table to take his own seat back, he nods to his older brother and picks up his own bite. Nisroc takes that as his affirmation, and gathers up his own fork full, eating in peace.

Supper passes by quickly, and they both watch him stare at his piece of cherry pie, his lips pursed tightly, clutching at his fork firmly. His mentor leans over him to set a glass of cool milk down beside his plate of pie, and he sighs softly taking his fork from him, he cuts off a piece of the slice of pie, scoops up a good puff of whipped cream, scoops up the piece of cherry pie, and holds it up to his lips. "Come on, platypus, you know you want it, don't punish yourself for a wrongdoing that doesn't even exist." Puriel turns slightly, looking up at him, his eyes watering slightly, and he's quick to assure soothingly. "One piece of delicious pie doesn't make you chunky, it makes you a very happy boy, look at Nis's piece, his is the biggest, that doesn't make him chunky, does it?" Puriel shakes his head quickly. "Right, so this piece of pie won't make you chunky either, one piece isn't bad, two pieces isn't bad either, go on and take a bite." He holds the fork back up to his lips. "If after you take that bite you don't want anymore, I'll eat it myself, there's nothing to worry about, I won't force you to eat it, but you should, you've earned a piece of your favorite pie."

Puriel nods lightly, one bite won't hurt, as long as he only takes one. He opens his mouth and his mentor deposits the pie and whipped cream inside, pulling the fork back out, he hums in pleasure, falling back to lean against the backrest of the chair and chews, swallowing softly, he looks up at his mentor again.

Abraxos smiles down at him. "Want another piece?" He holds his fork out to him when he nods, and he takes it, turning back to his piece of delicious pie, digging in happily. The Power takes his place next to his Captain, and he swallows, looking over to the second oldest Power next to him. "Chucky?"

He shakes his head. "Not right now. He's been through a rough patch, what he needs is some TLC."

"I see," Nisroc takes another bite of pie, chews, and swallows. "Tickles?"

"No, I think this time it calls for cuddles, what's your thoughts on sleeping in the Lounge tonight?"

"For him?" He swallows another bite. "Always."

Abe nods, swallowing his own bite of pie. "I thought we could play a few board games, cuddle up nice and warm together, maybe watch a movie." It was a special occasion when they watched movies, this most certainly counted, they'd do anything for their baby Elect. "Maybe some belly rubs."

"Oh, belly rubs are nice."

"I was thinking you could get your blanket."

"It is the warmest."

He smiles when his little angel reaches out to the pie sitting in the middle of the table and cuts himself a second piece, progress, a good thing. "Make a pillow bed."

"I'm liking what I'm hearing, thus far."

Abraxos nods, pushing his plate away. "Stay with him, I'm going to get one of my shirts for him to sleep in."

"I'll keep an eye on him." Nisroc stands, reaching over to take the boy's plate and fork, picks up the empty pie pan, and takes up their utensils too, crossing around to set them to soak in the sink. "Get my blanket while you're down there."

"Righto."

The Captain comes to stand behind their young Elect, rubbing his curls affectionately, and Puriel looks up at him. "Hey, little bear, let's go pick out some board games."

Puriel looks over to the hall. "Is Abe coming back?"

"He's just gone to grab a couple things, we're going to spend the night together in the Lounge, let's go pick out some board games and a movie."

"But, what about your lessons?"

He rubs his curls again. "I have something more important to attend to."


	313. Two Broken Souls

He twitches two fingers over the two piano keys, a listless tune playing around them in the empty Lounge, his brothers were all out doing their duties, he has none, he's too broken, he can't even handle the simplest of pressures, he's not strong enough to be a Power anymore, his one dream had been snatched from him in one cruel twist of fate, his entire world was taken and shaken up, turned upside down, and shattered. Forty thousand years locked in a space of no time, his brothers were so much older now, they had moved on, even though they pretended they hadn't, his mentor has a new protégé, he can't be upset, he knew it was bound to happen, but he can't help but feel a tad replaced. He knew his older brother would have to find someone else, especially since he couldn't do it anymore, but for him to do it so _soon_, his mind couldn't comprehend it, his heart couldn't take it, he wasn't his little angel anymore, he'd been replaced, replaced by someone who could do the job he wasn't physically able to do anymore, another one who was taking his place, his dream, he knew he still had a family, but he was an outsider, he didn't know them anymore, so much had changed, too much, there wasn't enough time in the world to catch up on all the things he missed.

He looks down when he feels a warm tongue lick over his cheek lightly, he reaches up to rub at his cheek, pulling his hand away when his fingers meet warm water, tears, he hadn't even realized he was crying, as tears slipping from his eyes. Hamon licks his fingers, whining softly, rubbing his snout over his cheek lightly, nuzzling his cheek gently. "I'm okay, Mon." He rubs at his hounds head lightly, and it whines again, nudging his cheek again, licking away more warm tears. "I don't think I'm okay, Mon. Not like I tell everyone." He lets his hand drop, turning back to the piano, playing with those two keys again. "Everything's so different now. I'm from another time. I don't belong here. Sometimes I wish I could just fade and be done with it." He sighs softly. "I guess I should be grateful, they didn't give my room to someone else, it was just the same, just as I had left it. They cleaned it while I was gone. There wasn't any dust." He rubs at his eyes. "I'm a shell of who I used to be. I'm a character written into a story of another time. I'm not meant to be here anymore."

Hamon sets his paw on his thigh, barking softly, but firmly, and licks his cheek, as though to tell him he belonged no where else but right where he was.

Hasmal smiles slightly. "I guess." He didn't believe him. He turns towards the grand piano, resting his fingers over the keys, and he begins to play, tickling the ivories, his hands gliding over each smooth key. Hamon tilts his head as he listens, his charge always plays from his heart, his broken heart.

"I don't believe it though."

He looks over when he sees movement from the corner of his eye, the angel hound, the other one, the one that stayed with the Captain, Erathaol, he's turned into the kitchen, reaching for a glass, and he freezes when he hears the piano, turning to watch them, he forgoes his glass and crosses into the Lounge. The service hound hops off the bench as the other Returned slides in next to his charge, his voice just as soft as the others, a he joins in, they're two lost souls, not fit for duty, with a home they didn't really belong in, surrounded by a family they didn't really know anymore.

_'Tears on my face I can't take it, If lonely's a taste, then it's all I'm tasting, Do you hear my cry?, I cry, oh'_

Hamon huffs softly, turning towards the stairs, it wasn't him who should be the one with them, not on his own, this was somewhat about his pay grade alone, this was a vulnerable moment that _they _should be present for. He trots down the stairs, the pianos melody fading as he crosses over the last step. The Captain isn't too far off, standing with his back facing him, his hand resting on his hips as he instructed his trainees in their motions, he trots between pairs of combatants, nudging the Captain's leg with his snout, he looks up at the same time Nisroc looks down.

He frowns, his eyebrows constricting, it was a rarity to see the hound but not the charge, they hardly separated from each other. "Is Maly alright, Mon?"

The service hound barks softly and jerks it's head towards their home above them, Nisroc tilts his head. "Can it wait? Is it important, I've just started my lessons." He barks firmly, tugging on his pant leg with his teeth, and Nisroc nods, gesturing for an Elder to take over, following after the adamant hound. They pause, and Hamon throws his head to the left, Nisroc follows his gesture and frowns again, not quite understanding, but he waves the medic over, Tatrasiel watches her mentor leave her, falling in with his squadron to continue training. Puriel tilts his head at the sight of their Maly's hound there without him, and Hamon barks, trotting forward, clearly wanting the two of them to follow him.

The two Powers follow the service hound to the bottom of the stairs, following him as he begins his ascent upwards, and they fall short when the sound of the piano finally hits them, there's two voices, Puriel's instantly recognizes the first, and it takes a moment, but Nisroc places the other.

_'Can you hold me? Can you hold me? Can you hold me in your arms?'_

Hamon turns to look at them, jerking towards the top, and they continue their ascent behind the service hound, cresting the top stair, they keep quiet, not wanting to disturb the moment. Hamon returns to his spot beside his charge, laying down beside him, resting his head on his front paws.

Erathaol curls inwards and Hasmal reaches over for one of the farther keys. _'Just wrap me in your arms, in your arms. I don't wanna be nowhere else. Take me from the dark, from the dark, I ain't gonna make it myself' _His fingers stumble, the melody breaks, and he slams his hands down harshly, clearly rather upset. _"Damn it!"_

"Your hands are shaking." The humanoid angel hound plays his fingers over two keys. "I'm surprised you even made it as far as you did."

"_I'm_ surprised to see you're still _alive_."

Erathaol jerks around, tension forming between the two of them. "I could say the _same _to you."

Hasmal tilts his head downwards, burying his face in his hands. "I wish He'd say _'yes'. _I don't know why He won't let me let go."

"Puri would miss you."

"Puri has Tatra. What would he want with a broken shell, anyway? I can't learn from him. I can't be what he had chosen me to be. He's found my replacement, he doesn't need me anymore, I'm just dead weight."

"Fading now would be the cowards way out."

"_Coming from you?" _The young retired Power turns to glare at him. "You've asked _just _as much as I have."

They fall silent, Hasmal's face buried back in his hands, Erathaol playing with the two piano keys. "I'm tired, Mal."

"Me too, Era." He pulls his hands down, setting them to rest on his lap, staring down at the piano keys. "We don't belong here. We're whispers of the past. We stick out like a sore thumb. The worlds changed while we stayed the same."

The angel hound seated next to him on the piano bench hums softly. "You're right. Our place has come and gone. Nis…Nis has gray hairs now, his hair's longer, his beards longer, he's changed, he's….. He's not the one I remember."

Hasmal snorts softly. "At least you weren't replaced…" Puriel shifts slightly, and Nisroc send him a sad glance, they'd all known the medic would have had to take on a new Elect eventually, he could only skip his turn so many times. "I can't really blame him though. He needs someone who can replace him when he's done. A broken shell can't do that. I can barely learn to control what I was created with, I can't learn what he'd need to teach me, I can't do anything, the only reason they keep me here is because they feel bad, and because they don't want me to hurt anyone else if I lose control and they aren't there to contain it."

Erathaol doesn't respond, he just nods, his companion is right, at least he hadn't watched himself be replaced. "I asked Father to let me fade too."

"He keeps telling me no."

"That's what He said to me too."

They sit there in silence, and the fire bender rubs the back of his hand over his nose. "They can never know. They'd only blame themselves."

"Another secret?"

"The darkness holds nothing but secrets."


	314. Breathe (2am)

When he can't sleep, he plays, he plays softly, trying not to wake his older brothers, his one person audience sitting at his side, listening intently to each and every word, there's a message in every tune he plays, and one has to listen carefully if they want to hear it. Hamon could listen to it carefully, he could pick out the message that was attempting to be heard, he was trained by the best of the best, he knows how to find these things. He doesn't care how tired he is, he'd sit there from sun down to sun rise if his charge needed him to, yawning widely and laying on his lap, moving with the motions of his arms as his fingers stroked over the keys, he'll listen, he'll stay awake with him until he turns in to sleep himself, even if it means sleeping at the piano, or crashing in the Lounge to be found and moved in the morning, he'll stay with him no matter how long or how late.

_'Theres a light at each end of this tunnel, you should_

_But you're just as far in as you'll ever be out_

_These mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again_

_If you only try turning around'_

Hasmal's voice is beautiful, it's soft, it's deep, but not too deep, he sounds young, because he is young, and there's so much emotion in it, it drowns in emotion. He pours his heart out into every word, he can hear it, sometimes he wonders of the others can, if they can hear how much their youngest member is hurting sometimes, he knows the medic can, he's been trained to sense such things, but he never broaches the subject, perhaps he's afraid that the boy will pull away if he does, despite how close the two of them are.

He's not afraid though. He'll broach the subject if it's needed and he'll urge the medic to do so as well, in these things, there's no room for being uncertain, you just need to act.

Hamon turns, the boy doesn't even notice him leaving, hoping down from the piano bench, the melody doesn't even falter, there's no pause, no sudden hiccup, it keeps playing out as he trots down the hall. Yawning, he paws the door open, trotting into the dark room, he comes to stand a the end of the bed, licking at the hand that dangles over the edge, the medic's away at the moment, but this one is the second best, he knows almost as much as the medic does, from living and learning through his years.

Fingers curl slightly, and there's a soft quick inhale, a soft snore cut off mid throw. Silver eyes blink down at him, a head of messy dirty blond hair coming into view. Abraxos yawns widely, rubbing at his eyes with his other hand, and turns slightly, he knows why Hamon would be coming to get him, they all know what it means when the service hound wakes them in the middle of the night.

"What's the matter, Mon?"

He barks softly, jerking his head around in the direction of the door, and the Power nods, turning to bend his legs over the edge of the bed, pressing his feet to the smooth stone under them, and pushes himself up to stand.

Hamon turns, trotting ahead, and he follows dutifully behind him, rubbing at his eyes again, he frowns when he turns out of his room and the smooth melody and soft voice hits him.

_'Two AM and I'm still awake, writing this song_

_If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer_

_Inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to'_

"Is he playing at this hour?" Hamon spares him a glance as the hound leads him down the hall, and they pause in at the entrance, listening to their boy play his heart out for them. "Let's wait a moment."

The service hound nods, coming to a halt, sitting down at his side, they stand in the hall just listening. Hasmal doesn't play just to play, not all the time, most of the time, he's trying to say something that he can't get out in simple words, you just had to listen carefully, and you'd hear what he was trying to say.

Next to the medic, this one was the best option, and he wasn't afraid to broach sensitive subjects.

_'And I feel like I'm naked in front of a crowd_

_Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud_

_And I know that you'll use them, however you want to'_

Abraxos leans against the wall, crossing his arms lightly, and looks down at the hound. "Hamon, is he having trouble talking to you again?" The hound nods lightly, looking up at him, and leans down to rub at his snout. "Having trouble opening up?" The hound nods again, setting his paw back down, and the Power nods, turning back to watch their youngest, lost in his own little world.

_'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,_

_And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table_

_No one can find the rewind button now_

_Sing it if you understand.'_

"Hamon," the hound looks back up at him. "Has he been turning inwards again?"

The hound nods lightly.

"Caught in the little picture?"

Hamon barks softly, soft enough that it doesn't interrupt the playing, and Abraxos nods again.

_'And breathe, just breathe_

_Whoa breathe, just breathe'_

The playing comes to a pause, the boy has finally noticed his companions absence, and he looks around for him, turning on the bench to look over his shoulder. "Mon?"

His hound barks loudly, not loud enough to wake the others, thankfully, but loud enough to gain his attention. Hasmal's ember colored eyes widen when his eyes travel from his hound companion to the one standing at his side, Abraxos waves a few fingers at him, smiling slightly. "Everything okay?"

"Sorry if Mon woke you."

"That's not what I asked."

Hasmal looks down to the pearl colored piano keys. "I'm fine."

"That's not what I just heard." He pushes away from the wall, tucking his hands into the pockets of his flannel pajama pants, slouching slightly as he makes his way over to the piano. He turns around the edge, standing at the side of the piano bench, pulling his right hand out of his pocket, he holds it out to him, flexing his fingers lightly. "Come on, little fire breather." Hasmal nods, reaching up to curl his fingers around his hand, standing when he's gently pulled from his seat, and carefully steps around the piano bench. Abraxos squeezes his fingers lightly, gesturing for the boy's hound to follow them, and guides them out of the Lounge, the lights fading softly as they leave the room, making their way back down the hall to his room.

Squeezing his fingers again, he pulls him into his room softly, waiting for Hamon to trot in before cracking the door behind them. He pulls the boy over to his bed, pulling him around to stand in front of him, gesturing to the bed. "Climb in, little fire breather."

Hasmal nods, letting go of his hand, climbing up over his grand mentor's bed (it was an inside joke between him, the older Power, and his mentor—he may not be an Elect anymore, but Puri will always be his mentor) and climbs under the blankets. Abraxos climbs in after him, Hamon hopping up to curl up at the foot of the bed, and he raises his arm for the younger angel. "Come here, little fire breather." Hasmal scoots closer, tucking himself under his arm, curling around his side, resting his cheek against his breast, sighing softly as fingers scratch at the side of his head lightly. "Talk to Abby, little fire breather, tell Abby what's on your mind."

He shrugs softly, scratching a finger over the Power's chest under his head, staring at the spot. "I dunno."

"Thinking about all the changes again?" Abraxos was just as observant as Hamon was, and he wasn't scared to broach the subject of such hindrances, just as the angel hound wasn't. "Talk to me, little fire breather, I'm not going to stop bugging you until you do." He reaches around to poke him in the cheek, repeatedly, over and over again. "I'm not going to stop poking you until you talk to me, even if it takes all night."

Hasmal giggles softly, reaching up to catch his fingers. "Okay, okay…" He nods lightly, curling his fingers between the fingers of the older Power's left hand, and nods lightly once more. "I just…. Everything's changed…. It's all so new…...And I'm…" He tucks the Power's hand under his chin. "I'm still the same."

"There's nothing wrong with that, we wouldn't want you any other way then how you are, just because we've grown a bit older doesn't mean we've changed all that much, we just look a bit different is all." He squeezes him close for a moment. "Have you _seen _Nis's gray hairs?"

The younger angel giggles softly, and he counts it as a victory, but it turns just as quickly, when those giggles fade out. "But, that's what I mean, I'm still…..I'm still just out of my youngling years, and you guys are….you guys are…"

"Old?"

He nods lightly. "Old. And, and soon you'll fade, be recycled or put to rest, and I'll be all alone again!"

"Hey," Abraxos looks down at him, squeezing his fingers firmly. "Hey, look at me." Hasmal looks up to his grand mentor as he's told to. "That's not going to happen for a long, _long _time. We're not going anywhere anytime soon. And, don't think, not even for a moment, that we'd up and leave you all on your own. Others will replace us before that time comes, and we'll make sure those others are kind to you, treat you as their family, and we won't accept anything less, we would never leave you knowing that you're not going to be taken care of. And, you'll have Hamon of course, he's going to be around for a long while, he's only a few years older than you, just as we had planned it, so even when we do fade, he'll still be here with you." He flicks his chin with his thumb lightly. "Lord knows, Puri would go fighting tooth and nail if he even had an inkling there was something other then love between you and the others, he loves you _that _much." He rubs the pad of his thumb over the youth's lower lip. "Don't think about that time, think about now, about the time you're living in, not the time you are _going _to be living in. Be here in the present. Not in the future. Stay here with us."

Hasmal averts his eyes. "I can't help but to think of the times to come. It's all that comes to my mind, all that my mind can focus on, it's all I can think about."

"Well, think about something else, then."

He nods against his breast, settling down, now that his chest was clear of the weight of the world. "Like what?"

The older Power rubs his thumb over the back of his hand. "Hmm. Think about how much Puri is going to spoil you when he gets back."

He smiles at the thought of it. "Really?"

"Oh, yea, he's going to spoil you rotten, he's been away for nearly two weeks, you're going to be all he thinks about when he gets back." He smiles as the subject changes to something more lighthearted; he can hear the smile in the youth's voice and counts that as another victory. "He could just be cresting the last stair, and you run up all hugs and smiles, and ask him to bake you a dozen of your favorite white chocolate chip cookies, and he'd do it right then, forgoing everything else, no matter how exhausted he is, he'd do it just to make you happy."

"He would?"

"Oh, you know he would, in a heartbeat. That guy adores you to pieces. He'd move the moon for you if you asked, or, at least, he'd try his hardest."

His mind whirls around the idea of cookies, his favorite cookies, warm white chocolate chip cookies, fresh out of the oven, a glass of cool milk to dip them in. "I think I'd like that."

"Then, give it a try, make sure you give him a big bear hug and tell him how much you missed him, melt him a little, bat those little eyes at him all cutely, and he'll bend over backwards to do it."

"You swear?"

Abraxos smiles, closing his eyes lightly, for he knows the youth has closed his, even without looking down to see. He's just that good. "I know him like I know the back of my hand." He rubs his shoulder lightly. "I guarantee it."


	315. Cry Pretty

The tears burst forth like a water from a dam, spilling down his face. He feels the muscles of his chin tremble like a small child and he looks toward the window, as if the light could soothe him. There was a static in his head once more, the side effect of this constant fear, constant stress he lives with. He hears his own sounds, like a distressed child, raw from inside. It takes something out of him he doesn't know he had left to give. That's the way it is when people are hard. It's like a theft of a spirit, an injury no other person can see.

Hamon whines softly, nudging at his hands firmly, trying to get them away from his eyes, uncover his cheeks so he can lick them clean. But Hasmal turns away from him, curling in on himself even more, and the service hound doesn't know what to do for a moment. When he can't get to him when he gets like this, he usually goes to one of the others, but they're all busy right now, none of them are here at the moment, it's just them right now.

He sits back, when he realizes he's not getting through, and feels himself heat up, closing his eyes, he feels his body shift, his bones change, his fur recedes, and then he opens his eyes. "Mal, Maly, little brother." He reaches out with his hands, curling his fingers around the younger angel's wrists gently, pulling his hands away. "Maly, it's alright, you're not alone, I'm right here, they'll be back by supper time."

Hasmal had not taken it well when he'd gone investigating for one of his older brothers and couldn't find a single sign of hide nor hair of any of them, he'd fallen back against the pillows in the Lounge and just started sobbing.

"Hey, Maly, it's alright, you're alright, hey, hey look at me." He let's go of his wrists to pull him around, curling his fingers around the younger angel's cheeks, forcing him to look around at him. "Hey, Maly, take a deep breath, take a deep breath for me." The younger angel stares at him, taking a shaky deep breath, and he nods lightly. "Now, let it out." Hasmal lets his breath go, staring at him with teary eyes, and Hamon smiles at him, rubbing the tear tracks away with his thumbs. "Good, little angel, settle on down, everything's okay, they're all going to come back, and you know when they do they're going to spoil you rotten, just as they always do, you know that right?"

The boy nods silently, staring at him with those big watery eyes, and he smiles at him. "Now, until then, Puri made some cookies before he left last night. How about we go warm up those cookies, pour ourselves a nice big glass of cool milk, and eat them all up before they get back, good plan?"

Hasmal giggles softly, nodding lightly, and reaches up to rub at is nose. "Okay, Mon, I like that plan."

"I thought you might."


	316. Deep Conversation

He rubs his hands together, he'd known, since Hamon had forced them to come listen to their two Returned members, that the subject would have to be broached eventually, but he hadn't known how to do so, so he'd left it be, for the most part. Watching him interact with the others, if he hadn't heard quite the contrary himself, he'd have assumed everything was fine. The little guy was inexplicably well versed in hiding his emotions, a great cause of concern and sadness for him, he used to be able to read the little guy like an open book. But now, now we was as open as a dam, all his emotions locked behind an inescapable wall, it was a fortress, that no one was allowed into, he hopes those barricaded iron doors will open for him.

He waits for him in the doorway, standing in the shadows, he doesn't want to be seen and have his query turn the other way. He waits until he's in place, and snaps out, curling his fingers around his thin shoulder. "Maly, can I have a word with you?"

Hasmal turns to look up at him, smiling slightly, and nods. "Sure, Puri, is everything okay?" Puriel steps aside, and the younger angel steps passed him, into the medic's room, and comes to stand in the middle of the room as he watches his exmentor close the door and turn to face him, Hasmal tilts his head slightly. "Did something bad happen?"

"Maly," he rubs a hand down his face, trying to think of a way to gently broach the subject, and sighs when he finds none, better to just dive head in then to keep floundering. "Why didn't you tell me you felt replaced?"

The young angel stares at him silently, eyes slightly widened, his mouth hanging slightly ajar. "W—What?"

"Maly, why didn't you tell me?"

Hasmal looks to his feet for a moment, fingers curling in the hem of his shirt, and sighs deeply. "Hamon told you?"

"I heard it from _you_." He specifies when the younger angel looks up at him curiously. "The other day, while you and Era were sitting at the piano, Mon came and got us."

"You weren't supposed to hear that."

"I'm glad I did." He steps forward, curling his fingers around the youth's shoulders, and Hasmal looks up at him at his approach. "Why didn't you tell me you felt that way?"

The younger angel sighs. "I didn't want you to feel bad." He shrugs. "Besides, it wasn't all that important."

"Of course, it is important, Maly, anything that involves you is important to me." Puriel moves his hands up, curling his fingers around his cheeks. "It's very important to me."

"Why?" Hasmal looks between his eyes, staring up at the older Power, his own fingers coming up to curl around his wrists. "It's not like it matters. I'm just the tag along now." He averts his eyes. "I can't be your Elect anymore. I can't be what you wanted me to be. I'm useless."

"You replacing me wasn't the only reason I chose you, Maly." He strokes his thumbs over his cheeks. "I chose you because I liked you, and then I grew to love you, you're right, you can't be my Elect any more, but you'll always be my little dragon, my little angel, you don't have to be able to fulfill some duty for me to love you, you just have to be yourself." He smiles down at him as his eyes start to water. "You don't have to be useful to me for me to love you. You'll always be my first. No one can ever take that away from you."

"Y—You're _not _replacing me?"

The medic shakes his head. "Not in the way you're thinking, yes, I need someone to replace me when my time is done, but I could never find a new little dragon. That'll always be you."

Hasmal stares up at him with wide eyes, as though searching for any dishonesty, and when he finds none, he sniffles softly, reaching up to rub at his nose, reaching out to curl his fingers in the front of the Power's tunic, tugging softly until the medic pulls him in close, wrapping him in his arms, and he was able to bury his face in the older angel's chest. His arms are warm and secure around him, one arm curls around his lower back, and the fingers of the other hand curls around the back of his head, holding him close and secure. He curls his fingers tightly into the back of his tunic tightly, his fingers shaking from the intensity of his grip, and he presses in close, taking in the medic's scent, one that had been lost to him for so long, one that had been robbed from him, one that meant he was home.

Fingers scratch at the back of his head lightly. "You're always going to be my little dragon, Maly, no one will ever take that place in my heart from you."

The boy pulls back, resting his chin over his belly, and tear stained cheeks turn up to him. "Y—You promise, Puri?"

He slides his hands around, cradling his cheeks gently, curling his fingers down around the back of his neck, under his ears. "I'd never lie to you, little dragon. No amount of time will change how I feel about you. And, no other persons will ever take that place you hold in my heart. I haven't replaced you. I could never. Tatra may be my new Elect, but you're still my little angel, my baby dragon. She can't take that from you. I love her, yes, but I loved _you_ first." He curls his fingers around the boy's upper ribs. "Hop up." Hasmal hops upwards, and he bends at the knees slightly, grunting softly as he lifts the boy up off his feet. The younger angel instinctively curls his legs around his waist, and he curls his arms under his bottom. "How's about you and me spend the rest of the day together."

Hasmal leans forward against him, curling his arms around his neck loosely. "What about your medic training, you were supposed to teach them all today."

"That's nothing, wrap a few bandages around it and it's as good as new, I have something more important to tend to."

"I'm more important?"

"You're _always _more important." He presses their foreheads together. "I can think of a _few _things we can do." He smiles when the younger angel giggles lightly. "Is that cute little belly feeling lucky today?"

Hasmal giggles again. "Puri, I'm sleepy, can we take a nap before we do that?"

"For you?" The medic rubs their noses together. "Anything." He carries the younger angel over to his bed, staring up at him, Hasmal stares right back down at him, and he smiles, his feet carrying him from muscle memory, he knows the layout of his room perfectly well, he could walk around it just fine blindfolded. "Do you want me to nap with you?" He smiles at his little dragon, rubbing their noses together again, and Hasmal giggles softly. "I have some important lesson plans to go over."

"I want you to nap with me, Puri." He scrunches up his nose when the Power kisses the tip of his nose. "I think I can change my plans for you." He squeezes his thighs gently. "Slide on down and climb in."

The younger angel nods, uncurling his legs from around his waist, he slides down off of him. Kicking his boots off, he turns, climbing up over the bottom edge of the medic's bed. Puriel smiles at him as he snuggles under the blankets, a little bunny burrowing down for a long winter's nap and shakes his head as he steps up to the edge of the bed, pulling the blanket's back slightly, and slides in next to him.

Hasmal immediately scoots closer, practically climbing up over him, and nods against his belly. He chuckles softly, reaching under the blanket to scratch at his head. "Is my belly comfortable enough for you?"

"It's like a big pillow."

He shakes his head slightly, smiling in amusement. "That comfortable, huh?"

"It's like a marshmallow, and I love marshmallows."

"I know you do; I know very well." Puriel scratches at the top of his head lightly. "Do you want me to make you some hot chocolate when we wake up?"

He feels him nod over his tummy. "Yes, please."


	317. Protect At All Costs

They'd retreated together, a small trio, to a shadowed corner in the Lounge when the yelling started. It wasn't often that they argued like this, sure, they had their disagreements, but they never lasted this long, they never escalated like this had, they never lasted more than a few hours, let alone days, there was never any yelling, not like there was this time.

Erathaol sat curled up in a ball, his hands clamped over his ears, and Hasmal wondered silently, as he stared at him, if it was because of his sensitive hearing or because of the fighting itself, he looks to his hound, Hamon isn't covering his ears, he's laying in front of him, and he seems to be glaring at the older Powers. He leans into the humanoid angel hound next to him, trying to give a sense of comfort by presence, there was little else he could do, he didn't want to say anything, lest it turn their attention over to him, he didn't want to be yelled at for nothing.

They don't know what caused this massive eruption between the closest set of brothers they know, it must have been serious though, for them to be at each other's throats like this.

He flinches at the sharpness in his mentor's tone, as he shouts something at their Captain, and Nisroc yells back, Abraxos yells as Nisroc for yelling at his Elect, and Titus yells at Puriel for yelling at his mentor. They don't even notice them, even though Era is mumbling, he can hear it, Hamon can hear it, his ear twitches back towards them, he hears Era's soft mumbling **_(stopstopstopstopstopstop!) _**and he hears his visible flinch, and he tenses, like a hound does before they pounce.

Hasmal curls his own hands over his own ears, curling up slightly, bending forward on himself. _"Please stop fighting." _He whispers softly. He sees Hamon's ear twitch back again, he's heard him and his soft cry, and he looks up when he hears a deep dangerous growl, threatening, and at first he turns to look at Erathaol, thinking it was him, but he's still curled up, mumbling for them to stop under his breath, eyes clenched shut tightly.

They'd seen this before, it had been _Her _favorite trick, and it _always _ended in _one _way, blood would be spilled and lives would be lost, and they'd be here to witness it all.

He looks back around he when hears that same threatening growl a second time, staring at Hamon with wide eyes, his hound is so docile, he didn't think he had a threatening bone in his body. But there he was, glaring daggers at the older Powers, growling deep threatening growls, ears pressed flat against his head, as tense as a spring right before it popped.

_"Mon, make them stop." _He calls softly, and his hound growls again, deeper, even more dangerous, as though he'd heard his request over the pitch of the yells and the reverberations of his dark growls rumbling in his chest.

Hamon jumps, a spring let loose, darting forward, barking loudly, teeth bared, snapping and growling and barking as he jumps at the older Powers. He sinks his teeth into the flesh of the one that caused his charge the most grief, jerking his head with his grip around their calf, he hears a yell of pain, and he tugs again, he wants him to feel just as bad as he made his charge feel, he wants them to feel just as much pain as his charge felt watching his beloved older brothers have at each other's throats like a pack of rabid wolves. The leg follows him, he tugs so hard, he tastes blood on his tongue, and he resists the urge to gag, strengthening his resolve, he tugs again, jerking back, and he hears a heavy body hit the floor with another yell of pain, hands push at him and he growls, letting go of the calf to snap at the fingers.

He jumps around when fingers curl into the scruff of his neck, bending agilely around, and sinks his teeth into their wrist, they shout, immediately pulling away, and he jumps around, blood staining his canines, barking and growling dangerously at the lot of them. Two of them hold up their hands placatingly, defensively, backing away a step.

"Hamon!"

The hound jumps around, forward, teeth bared, at the one kneeling beside him, and they jump backwards as he lunges forward, throwing their arms up when it appears, he's going to get their face.

The fighting's stopped, their all too focused on the docile service hounds sudden attack, Hamon growls at them all, daring them to start their yelling again, and stalks away, first to his water bowl, to clear the taste from his mouth, it's disgusting, it nearly makes him gag, and stalks around the one sitting on the floor, clutching their profusely bleeding calf, and growls at them again as he returns to his charges side. He nudges his charge's left hand away with his snout, and licks his cheek, nuzzling it with his snout, licking at his cheek and hand until his breathing calms down, and moves over to the younger angel hound, sitting there in his tight ball, licking his cheek too, he crosses around to lay in front of them, baring his teeth again, taking note of the elders stares, and growls lowly, daring them to make things worse.

The fighting doesn't return, as one clutches at their bleeding wrist, another clutches desperately at his torn calf, and the ones he hadn't gotten to rush in to help them.

"Haniel." Nisroc's tone is firm, he's still stunned by Hamon's violent outburst, his eyes glued to the hound, the two behind him still unseen to his eyes, it was an unfortunate oversite. "Go get the Healer and Akriel."

Hamon raises his head defiantly, if he thinks he's going to turn into a remorseful puppy at the mention of retrieving his master, he has another thing coming, he'd bite him too if he hurt his charge as much as they had.

It doesn't take long for the Healer and his Virtue to arrive, the Healer is immediately drawn to the worse of the two, Puriel grits his teeth, gripping his torn calf tightly as the Healer kneels, pulling blood-soaked hands away. "What happened!"

Titus answers for him, as the medic can't ungrit his teeth, lest he shout in pain. "Hamon attacked."

Akriel's the first one in the whole mess to notice the two huddled in the corner, and he makes his way to them quickly, kneeling in front of the one who's worse for the wear, Erathaol doesn't respond to his soft calls, still tightly wound, muttering under his breath, as though it hadn't registered for him that the fighting had stopped.

The mental specialist doesn't do it often, especially after what his sister had done with that particular gift, but sometimes desperate measures called for such desperate actions. He curls his hands around the humanoid angel hound's head and whispers softly, Hasmal watches from between his fingers as a warm soft glow emanates around his fingers, and Erathaol slowly stops rocking, slowly stops muttering, and his eyes slowly open, the tension slowly leaving him, and Akriel helps guide him back as he falls limp.

He's startled at first, jerking his head around to watch him lay his friend down, and as though he feels the eyes on him, the mental specialist turns to look at him. "I just calmed him down, think of it as a slight drugging, he's going to be pretty lethargic, but he'll be okay, his panic attack was too consuming."

Hasmal nods, as though he understands, and the mental specialist turns to him, curling his fingers around his as gently as he can, pulling his hands away. "It's alright, you're alright, take a deep breath for me, take a deep breath." Hasmal nods, inhaling softly and deeply, watching the Virtue as he instructs him softly to let his breath go. "It's alright, there you go, focus on your breathing." He nods again, in through the nose and out through the mouth, until he feels himself calm down. Akriel pushes him back lightly, laying him on his back, and turns to the hound, snapping his fingers at him, he waits until he garners his attention, and waves a finger over the fire bender's prone form. Hamon barks softly, standing from his position, and climbs up over the young angel, laying down over his belly, a warm comforting presence.

He rubs a hand over the hounds head. "Good boy."

"You're going to _praise _him!"

He turns to glare at the Captain from over his shoulder. "Yes, yes I am. He was protecting his charge, had you all not been so caught up in your petty argument, you'd have seen what you were doing to the two of them." Akriel gestures to the hound. "His charge asked him to make the fighting stop and he did as he was asked." He pats the hounds head again. "He did good."

Raphael nods in agreement, wrapping the medic's leg firmly. "I agree."

"Maly?" The guilt is evident in the medic's tone as the inclination that he had harmed his little dragon sunk in. "Maly?" Puriel struggles to stand, hissing when it pulls on his leg wound, the pain was a physical reminder of his harming his beloved baby dragon. "Maly?" He hisses and drops back down, reaching up for the Healer's hand, tugging on it desperately, he had to get to his little guy's side, to make sure he was okay.

Raphael looks down at him when he feels the tugging on his hand, and purses his lips, but he has an understanding heart, the medic felt guilty for his wrong doing and wanted to make amends. "Easy on that leg." He orders softly as he pulls the younger Power to his feet, Puriel hisses again and nearly falls over, but he's on a mission, and a little flesh wound isn't going to keep him from his baby dragon's side.

With the Healer's help, he hobbles over to Hasmal's side, slowly eased down into sitting beside him, and he turns to look down at him immediately. He brushes his fingers through his hair, brushing his hair back, smiling down at him softly. "I'm so sorry, baby dragon, can you ever forgive me?"

Hasmal blinks up at him. "I don't like it when you guys get mad at each other."

"I know, we're sorry, we know you don't like it."

The youth tilts his head lightly. "What were you even fighting about?"

Puriel bites his lip lightly. "You know, I can't even remember, it must not have been that important."

"Promise not to fight ever again?"

"I can't promise that, baby dragon." He taps him on the nose. "We're brothers, and sometimes brothers fight, but we'll try and make sure it doesn't get this out of hand again."

They look over as Nisroc kneels on Erathaol's other side, sliding one arm under his knees and the other around his shoulders, he lifts him up as he stand, cradling him in his arms, and he smiles down at him apologetically, turning to carry his hound back down to his room, where he could rest more comfortably on his bed.

Abraxos kneels on his other side, reaching out to scratch his cheek lightly with his finger. "I'm sorry, little fire breather, we should have known better."

"I'm sorry Mon bit you," he looks over to his mentor. "You too, Puri."

"Don't be, baby dragon."

"He's right," the older Power assures. "We deserved it."

Hasmal looks between them both, yawning softly, his fingers curling in the fur on the back of Hamon's neck. "Abe, Puri, can we take a nap together?"

They smile down at him. "Sure we can little guy."


	318. Protective Papa Bear

"Nis, how dare you not tell me we were supposed to meet in the Throne Room!" The medic shouts as his Captain appears, behind the others, cresting the top of the stairs. "What was it for! Why were you called there! How could you not include me! We do everything together when it comes to something so obscure as to be called to the Throne Room." He steps away from his mentor as Abraxos tries to reach out for him, the medic is upset, his voice is raised, and that's the last thing they need right now, there was no telling as to what would startle their recently Returned member. "Well, what was it!"

Nisroc looks up at him. "Pu—"

"Puri?"

He knows that voice, the last time he heard that voice it was screaming his name, hands reaching out to him, begging him to save him, he'd struggled against his Captain's restraint to jump at him, reaching out for him in return, and then he was gone. That voice was gone. Silenced, muffled, like a candles flame blown out. He never thought he'd hear that voice again, he'd thought it was lost to him, lost forever, haunting his nightmares.

The medic steps forward, searching out the source of that voice, as though to prove to himself it wasn't a foul joke. Titus steps aside slightly, and those achingly familiar burnt orange eyes peek around the younger Power's arm, and he feels the ground fall out from under him, it feels like he's floating, this doesn't feel real.

Puriel takes another step forward. "Maly…Baby dragon…" He takes another small step. "Is it…It is really you?"

"Puri!" The boy runs forward, darting away from both Power's standing with him, out from under Nisroc's arm, the Captain's jacket falling from his shoulders. "Puri!"

He barely has time to open his arms before he's being rammed into, arms curling around him tightly, a face pressing into his upper belly, and he curls his arms around him in return, curling his right hand around the back of his head. "Maly, my little Maly." He bends slightly, pressing his lips to the top of the youth's head, squeezing him closer. "I thought I'd never see you again, my Maly, my baby dragon."

"Puri! Puri, I missed you!" He presses his face into the medic's upper belly, curling his fingers in the back of his tunic, holding on as though his life depended on it. "I was so scared, Puri, it was so dark, there was so much silence, it was so scary! Everything's so different now, Nis looks different, Abe too, it's all changed!"

"Sshhh, sshhh, you're alright." Puriel strokes his hand down the back of his head, scratching lightly at his scalp, pulling him in closer, if any closer was a remote possibility at this point. "I think you'll find the only changes we've gone through are in appearance only. We're all still quite the same." He reaches his hands down, curling his fingers around his middle. "Hop up." Hasmal hops up obediently, and the Power lifts him off his feet, pulling him up into his arms. The younger angel wraps his legs around his waist instinctively, curling his arms around his neck as he hugs in close again, burying his face in the side of his neck. "I really, really missed you, Puri!"

"I missed you too, Maly, I missed you so much." He leans over, pressing his cheek against his little Elect's ear, pressing a kiss to the side of his head, pressing in firmly. "I'm never letting you go again; can you ever forgive me, can you ever forgive me for letting you go?"

"I was never upset," Hasmal pulls away from the side of his neck, tears streaming down his face. He coos softly, kissing away the tear tracks, rubbing his nose over his cheek lightly. "Your hand slipped. I was never upset, Puri, I promise, I never was."

"Don't cry, baby dragon, don't shed any tears, its's okay."

"I can't help it!" The little fire bending Elect cries softly. "I'm just so happy!"

"I'll say," Nisroc's amused voice cuts in softly. "That's the most emotion, and the most words, I've heard from him in the hours he was returned to us."

"Well, of course, it's to be expected." Titus interjects quietly. "He loves us all dearly, but he adores Puri, of course he'd be the one to the get the tears and speech."

"How about me, little fire breather?" Abraxos touches his arm lightly, and his ember colored eyes turn to look at the older Power, he smiles up at him softly, reaching up to rub his cheek fondly, of course, with him being the boy's mentor's mentor, it was to be expected for them to be rather close as well. "Did you miss me, too?"

Hasmal giggles a soft wet little giggle. "I missed you too, Abby."

"I'm never setting you down, never." Puriel draws his attention away from the older Power and back to him. "Never, ever."

"What if you have to use the restroom?"

"Okay, you cheeky little thing, I'll set you down for one thing, but then I'll scoop you right back up." He brushes their noses together. "But, other than that one thing, I'm never letting you go."

Hasmal leans in closer, pressing their foreheads together, staring at him deep in the eye. "You promise?"

"I swear." He brushes their noses together. "I'm not letting you out of my sight." He brushes their noses together again. "I'm giving you all the things I couldn't give you for the last forty thousand years; I'll bake you any sweet you want, any, you just ask, I'll make you all the hot chocolate your little heart desires, with all the marshmallows and whipped topping you can dream of, you get everything, I'm going to pamper you, absolutely pamper you, and, oh, the tickles you're going to get."

The young Returned giggles just at the thought of it, leaning in to brush their noses together again. "I really missed you Puri."

Puriel smiles at him, leaning in closer to peck his nose. "I really missed you too, baby dragon." He pecks him on the nose again. "What do you want, I'll make you anything, from steak to cake, you just ask."

"Puri, wait, there's a few things you need to know before you whisk him off."

The medic looks over his boy's shoulder to his Captain. "What?"

"He's going to be a bit chilled for a while, so he needs to be bundled up."

"Got it, I'll get him bundled up, and then I'll cater to him."

"He can't be on his own for right now."

"Um, did you not hear me just say I'm not letting him out of my sight?"

Nisroc chuckles, nodding lightly. "Touche, go pamper him, he needs it."

"Oh, you bet." The medic turns away from them, carrying his little angel away, and they disappear down the hall. He smiles up at his little baby dragon. "First things first, a nice hot bubble bath," he carries him down the hall towards the washroom in the back. "Then, we'll get you all bundled up, I'm talking nice warm flannel pajamas, but wooly socks, a scarf and cap, no mittens though, so you can eat." He carries him into the washroom. "Then it's supper, I'm thinking this particular situation calls for a nice juicy steak, some potatoes, and broccoli, of course, I'm a medic, there has to be something healthy. And, for dessert, your favorite, hot fudge lava cake." He squeezes his thighs lightly in the indication that he's going to set him down, and Hasmal uncurls his legs from around his waist, settling on his feet once he's set down. "And, then I'm thinking a movie as we settle down for bed, a Christmas movie, one of your favorite kinds, while I rub your shoulders, just as I know you like."

The younger angel smiles up at him, surging forward, hugging around him again, presses his ear to his upper belly. "I really missed you, Puri, really, really, missed you! I thought I'd never see you again!"

"Hey," he curls his arms around him. "Don't think about that any more, you're back, I've got you, and that's all that matters." He scratches his fingers through the hair on the back of his head. "Now, you focus on taking a nice hot bath, don't forget to add bubbles, and I'll set out your warm pajamas out and stoke up the fire in my room, so it's nice and warm when we retreat there after supper."

"But, Puri, what if you get too warm?" Hasmal rubs a finger over his chest just before his eyes. "I don't want to inconvenience you."

"You could never." The Power pokes him on the nose lightly. "I run a bit on the cooler side too, that's why I'm always wearing long sleeved shirts, so don't even worry about it." He pinches the youths nose lightly. "Now, you take your bath, take your time, I'll have your pajamas set out on my bed when you're finished, and I'll be down in the kitchen preparing your supper."

"Okay, Puri." Hasmal smiles softly. "Can I have a lot of bubbles?"

"You have as many bubbles as your little fiery heart desires."

"Okay!"


	319. Puriel's First Elect

"Come on, mister, it's that time again."

"Puri!" The young Elect squirms over his shoulder, pushing at the medic's back lightly, kicking his legs as best as he can. "No!"

The Power smiles, carrying his squirming cargo through the Lounge and down the hall, patting him on the bottom lightly. "Oh, yes, I'm bored, and you're going to be my entertainment." He turns into his room, closing the door behind him, and comes to stand in the middle of his room. "Do you know what time it is?"

"I'm not saying it! I know what happens when I say it! I'm not going to say it!"

"Regardless on whether you say it or not, it's going to happen, so just go on and say it, guess what time it is."

He bites his lip, curling his fingers in the back of the Power's shirt tightly, and tests the grip around him, it's firm and immovable. Sighing, knowing he has to face the inevitable, his mentor has him trapped anyhow, he might as well play along, closing his eyes in defeat, he lets himself fall limp, dangling his arms limply, he presses his face into his mentor's back. "It's tickle time."

"Yes, it is!" Fingers pinch at his thigh lightly and he squirms, a smile stretching over his features despite his best attempts at keeping a stoic face, and he kicks his leg slightly. "It's definitely tickle time, Maly."

They move forward, walking from the center of the room, to the medic's large bed. Hasmal yelps as he's tugged forward, pulled up from the medic's shoulder, and tossed down onto the bed. Immediately, he tries to crawl back, away from him, but his mentor leans over, catching him by the ankles and he slides down on his back as he's tugged back into place. "Not so fast, mister, you're my entertainment."

He involuntarily starts to giggle when he climbs up over the bottom of the large bed, pulling him closer as he settles down, trapping him in place, and he pushes against his shoulders as he lays over his legs, resting on his elbows above his belly, undeterred by his pushing on his shoulders. "I've got you right where I want you."

The young elect giggles in anticipation, curling his fingers in the Power's sleeves. "Go easy on me?"

"I went easy on you the last _two _times, this time isn't time for easy, this is tickly tickle torture time." His mentor smiles down at him. "Getting all of those little spots, those toes, those thighs, this tumtum, all of them."

He giggles again, curling his toes up involuntarily, at the mere thought of the torture.

"I think you should go easy on me."

"Well, _I _think you're really going to get it." He slowly pushes his tunic up, smiling down at his belly, it's slightly rounded, just a bit pudgy, not too much, but enough to be absolutely adorable. "We'll start in the middle and work our way outwards." He pokes a finger into the boy's belly, poking a playful circle around and around, adding a second finger to the mix only makes him giggle harder. "You think I'm bad, when I was an Elect, I had to survive both Abe _and _Nis, they just about killed me."

Hasmal giggles, squirming from side to side, batting at his fingers lightly. "Mohhohoohonkeehehehey seehehehehe, mohohohonkey dohoho!"

"Monkey see, monkey do?" He dips a finger into his Elects belly button and the little angel shrieks softly, arching his back. "I think you mean, tickle monster see, tickle monster do." He lowers himself closer to his belly, curling his fingers over his sides. "Look at this plump little belly." He leans in, pressing a kiss under his belly button, Hasmal giggles and reaches down to curl his fingers through the medic's small curls. "I love me some plump little bellies." He leans in to press another kiss over his belly button. "They're the best bellies to give tickles to because they're _extra _tickly." He pokes a finger into the slight belly roll under the youth's belly button. "Look at what I found, a small little belly roll, you know what this is going to get?"

"Puhuhuri Nohoho!"

"It gets nibbles!"

Hasmal moves his hands from the Power's curls to cover his lower belly, trying to protect it from what was coming it's way, and the medic chuckles softly. "There's no keeping this adorable rotund little belly from me." He curls his fingers around his Elect's wrists, pulling his hands away, keeping them captive at his sides, spread out slightly, giving him optimum tickle space. "It's getting all the tickly tickles it can get." He lowers himself closer to the little belly roll, and his little guy's giggles pick up in volume and quantity, tugging at his arms desperately. "Here I come." He purrs softly and buries his face into the belly roll under the Elect's belly button. He shrieks with laughter when he begins to playfully nibble on his belly roll, tugging on his arms again, arching his back, pressing into his face just a tad bit more.

"Eeieieieaiaiaiahahahhahahaha nohhohohho ahahahahhahahahaa! Puhuhuhurriihihihihihi! Nohhooho! Eeiiaiaiahahahaahahhahahaa nohohoho niihihihihibbles! Nohohoho nihihihibbles! Eieieiiahahahhahaha stohhohohohop! Stohohhoop ihihihihit! Eeiieieiaiiaiaiahahahahhaha ahahahhahahahah ihihihit tihihihickles! Puhuhuhurriihihihihihi ihihihiit tiihihihihickles!" He shakes his head from side to side, kicking his legs under his mentor, his belly shaking with the force of his laughter. "Eieeieieiehahahhahahahaha! Pleheheheheease! Ahahahhahahaha! Puhuhuhuhurriihihihihi! I'll dohohoho ahahahhaanythihihing! Ahahahhanythihihihing! Nohoho nihihihibbles! Theyeyeyyey tihihickle! Ihihihit tihihihickles!"

"Anything?" He looks up at him slightly. "Anything at all?"

"Yehehehees!"

Puriel smiles at him deviously. "I want you to squeal with laughter." And buries his face back in, returning to his nibbling, and the youth shrieks, squealing softly, arching his back again. "Nohohoho! Eieiieieeiaiaiaahahahahahahaha ahahhahahaheieieiaiahaahhahahahaha! Plehehehehheeease! Puuhuhurriihihihi plehehehheease! Mehehehercy! Ihihihit tihihickles sohoho muhuhuch! Eieiieiaaiaihahahahaahahhaha ahahhahahaha! Ihihit tihihihickles! Ihihihit tihihickles! Nohhohoho mohhohohhore nihihibbles! Nohhohoho mohohore! Eieieiaiaahhahahahahahaa ahahahhaeieiieaiahahaahaha!"

"I think I know what else this belly needs."

"Nohohot beheheherries! Nohohot thohohose! Pleheheease nohohot thohoose! Thehehehey're tohhohohoture!

"Well, it fits," he leans up, eyeing his belly hungrily, his fingers still curled around his wrists. "Seeing as you're getting a big tickly tickle torture. I'm going to give this belly a good tickle, the tickly tickle of a lifetime, it deserves it, it's just so cute."

"Nohhohoho! Pleehehehheease! Mehehehercy!"

"I gave you mercy the last two times, not this time, this time you get a big old tickly tickly tickle torture. A tickly tickle torture of the ages, by the time I'm done with this belly, it's going to be nice and tingly, leaving you a giggling mess even after it's through."

His little Elect squeals softly at the thought of it, his mentor's tickly tortures were the worst, the absolute worst.

He takes a deep breath, puffing his cheeks up, just as his mentor used to do (and still does) to him. Hasmal shrieks softly, squealing under his breath, and he feels him kick his legs again, as he lowers himself towards his belly, right over the giggle button, that belly button is the best spot for berries, anywhere on that adorable little plump belly is a good spot for berries, anywhere at all. He presses his lips over his belly button, and the little angel shrieks softly once more, squirming and sucking in his belly. He holds his breath, pressed there, letting him stew in giggly anticipation, he waits for a solid minute, counting down in his head, until those anticipatory giggles fall silent and he grows tense under him.

Then, that's when he blows his big ole mean berry.

Hasmal squeals loudly, it echoes around his room, and throws his head back as boisterous squealing laughter explodes from him. "IEIEIEIEIIAIAAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA HAHAHAHAHEIEIEIAAIAHAHAHHAHAHAA! NOHHOHOHOHOT BEHEHEHERRIES! NOHOHOT THOHOHOSE! EIEIEIAIAIAAHAHAHHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHO! STOHOHOHOP! GEHEHEHEHET OHOHOHOFF! EEIEIEIIAIAIAAHAHHAHAHAA AHAHAHEIEIEIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEERREHEHEHEHE! NOHOHOT THEHEHE BUHUHUTTON! NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEEIEIEIIAIAHAAHAHHHAA!" After five mean berries, he pulls away, to catch his breath, and that boisterous laughter turns into boisterous giggles. "Puhuhurrihihihi nohohohot thehehehere! Nohohohot thehehe buhuhuhutton! Nohohot thehehehere! Thahahat tihihhickles bahahahad! Ihihit tihihickles!" He chuckles softly, not saying a word, and takes another deep breath. Hasmal squirms under him, tugging at his arms again, kicking his legs weakly. "Puhuhurrihihihi! Nohohoo! Thahahat's mehehehean! Buhuhuttohohon beheheheerries ahahahare mehehehean! I'l tehehehell ohohon yohohohou! I'll tehehehell! I'll tehehehell Ahahahahaabbbehehehehehe yohohohou wehehehehere beheheheing mehehehean tohoho mehehehe! I'll tell Abe! I'll teheheheell Ahahahabbbeee!"

He laughs softly at the threat, Abe'll get him whether he gets told on or not, when he least expects it. "Go on ahead and tell him. He'll get you too. He thinks you need as many tickles as you can get. Trust me, as his mentee, you'd rather face my tickly wrath then his. He'd leave you a blubbering giggling pile of goo by the time he was through with you."

"Yohohohou dohohoho tohohohoo!"

"What can I say, I learned from the best of the best." He looks back down at his belly, his belly button specifically, and smiles. "Now, now you get extra berries for threatening to tell on me."

"NO! Nohoho! I'm sohohoorryyy! Ihihi dihihihidn't meehhehehehhean ihihihit! Nohohohot eehehehextra! I wohohohon't tehehheell! I wohohoon't! Nohhohot eehehhehehextra beheheherries! Plehehehehease! Dohhohoho ahahahanythihihiihing buhuhut ehehehextra beheheherries! Ahahahaanything!"

Puriel smiles at his pleading. "Anything?" He looks up at him. "Anything at all?"

Hasmal nods feverishly. "Ahahahahanythhihihihing! Ahahahanythihihing buhuhut ehehehextrahahaha beheheherries!"

"I want to give all your little spots berries, those feet, those thighs, those sides, those armpits, that neck, this belly. Every single one." His little Elect squeals softly at the proclamation, squirming, kicking his feet, he knows his toes at curling up. "Do we have a deal?"

The youth giggles harder, biting his lip, and nods. Anything was better then _extra _button berries. Puriel smiles at him sweetly, he doesn't think it looks too sweet, it's more devious then sweet. "Good, we'll start after your extra berries." And takes another deep breath.

"Nohoho! Youhuhuhuhu sahahhaahaaid wehehehehe hahahahhad ahahahaha deheheheal! Nohohoho! Puhuhuhuri! Plehehehehease!"

"Yea, we do, we have a deal on my terms." He takes another deep breath, puffing his cheeks up, and slowly lowers himself back down. He feels his boy's fingers spread wide as he tugs and twists his wrists around, kicking his feet again, trying to push himself backwards with his heels. He leans over, pressing his lips just to the right of the boy's belly button, and Hasmal squeals softly, falling tense with anticipation, he waits until he's as tense as a spring, and then he blows the first, of many, berries. "EEEEIIEIEIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAA NOHOHOHOHO! PUHUHUHUHURRRIIIHIHIHIHI! AHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHAHA EEIIEIEIAIAIIAAAHHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHA NOHOHOHO! PLEEHEHEHHEHEHEEASE! EEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAAHA IHIHIHIHI TAHAHAHAHAKE IHIHIHIHIT BAHHHAHAHAHAHACK! EIEIEIAIAAHAHAHHAHHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHO BEHEHEHERRIEHEHEHHEHHEES! EIEIEIAAIAIHAHAAHHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHEIEIEIAIAAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAA! NOHOHO MOHOHOHORE! EIEIEIAIAAIAHAHAHAHAHHAA AHHAHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLES! IHIHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLES SOHOHOHO BAHAHAHAD!"

He finally pulls back, and he inhales deeply, taking in a gulp of fresh air, smiling down at the giggly little Elect. "That was fun, have you learned your lesson about threatening me with Abe?"

Hasmal giggles feverishly, nodding quickly. "Yes! Yes! I learned! Let me go!"

"Uh, uh, uh, we still have a few more spots to visit." He leans over to the left, lowering himself to his side, and Hasmal's giggles pick up again, as he edges as far away to the right as he can manage. "A few more berries to give." He takes a deep breath and buries his face in his Elects side. "EEIEIAIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAA NOHOHOHOT AHAHAHAHAAGAIN EEIEIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAA AHHAHAHAHAHAHAA! NOHOHOHOHOHO! PUHUHUHUHUUURRIIIIHIHIHIHI! EEIIEIAAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHHAHAHAHEAIEIEIAIAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAA! IHIHIHI CAHAHAHAHAN'T TAHAHAHHAKE IHIHIHIT! EIEIEIAAIAIAHAHAHHAHAHAH STOHOHHOHOHOP! STOHOHOHOP IHIHIHIT! EIEIEIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA PLEHEHEHHEEEASE! AHAHAHHAHAAEIIEIEIAAIAIAHHAHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHIHITS SOHOHOHOO BAHAHHAHAAD!"

"You think this is bad?" He moves over to the other side. "Just you wait, we're still warming up."


	320. Some Quality Time

"Thaddy, can we have some fun together."

He purses his lips, he does feel bad, he hasn't gotten to spend much time with them this week, he'd been so busy, he was overloaded with paper work. New intakes, multiple escape attempts, his paperwork load was a mile high. This one he felt especially bad about, since taking so many in, he hadn't had much time to spend with his first, he'd been asking all week if they could spend some time together, this time, his hopeful tone sounded just a bit more dreary, as though he already knew the answer he was going to get, but was still somewhat hopeful it would be the one he wanted.

"I can't right now, Jahoel." He signs his name on the line, closes the file, and pulls the next one down, sighing as he starts at the beginning once more, the first of eleven pages. "I'm busy."

"Okay." There's an ounce of hurt in his voice and he hears the door start to squeak closed. "I understand." His writing pauses as the door closes, his guilt is immense, he's hurting his poor boy immensely, he can't even _remember_ the last time the two of them had some true quality time together, _just_ the two of them, Jahoel always had to share his time with someone else, usually Ben, and in that time, it was usually Ben that got most of the attention. The poor boy just want's some one on one time with him. He'd persistently asked all week, a whole seven days, and for that entire time, he'd declined, citing he was too busy, it hadn't been a lie, he was truly very busy, but that didn't mean it made his neglect any better.

He sets his pen down, all this paperwork would be here waiting for him, it wasn't going anywhere, and he stands from his chair, stepping out from behind his desk, and crosses the threshold of his office, reaching for the door handle. "Oel, wait!" He pulls the door open quickly, and the boy freezes, in the middle of the hall, turning to look at him from over his shoulder, his heart twinges at the clear pain his little boy is in. "Come here, little guy." He holds his arms open for him, and Jahoel smiles, turning on his heel, barreling down the hall, colliding into him hard enough to push him back a step. He rubs a hand down the back of his head. "We can have some fun."

The youngling looks up at him, his chin pressing against his belly, with wide hopeful eyes. "Just us?"

Thaddeus smiles down at him, smiling softly, brushing a finger down the bridge of his nose. "Just you and me, pal."

Jahoel hugs him again, pressing his ear to his belly, his arms wrapping around him tightly. "Thanks, Thaddy."

He hugs him in return. "You're welcome, baby boy, I know I've been rather neglectful lately, especially to you." He leans over, sweeping his arm under the boy's knees, and scoops him up off his feet. "We're going to spend the day together, just you and me, little thief, and we're going to have all sorts of fun." He presses a kiss to the boy's cheek as he turns them around the corner and makes his way up the stairs. "I'm going to rub my beard all over that belly of yours because I know you love it so much."

Jahoel giggles at the thought of it, his belly tingling already, and he curls is arms around himself. "I hate your beard!"

"I know you mean you love it when you say that." He chuckles softly, opening his door with a bump from his shoulder. "I just know it."ning his door with a bump from his shoulder. "I just know it."/p


	321. Seeking Comfort

He wakes with a gasp, his fingers flying up to curl around his neck lightly, feeling the raised rune scars under the pads of his fingers, his breathing working a mile a minute, and he curls his fingers together tightly, holding his hands against his chest, staring into the dark expanse of his room, focusing on calming himself down, he swallows thickly, turning to the side slightly, he reaches for the glass of water on his bedside table, his fingers shake lightly as he curls them around the glass and lifts it, taking a sip as he presses the edge of the glass to his lower lip, and he reaches back out to set the glass down again, pulling his blankets up over his chest, he lowers himself back down against his pillows, staring up at the ceiling in the blanket of darkness around him.

He lays there and stares. Sleep is a foreign concept to him now, he wants to sleep, his mind tells him so, but his fear tells him otherwise, he doesn't want to go back to sleep, least he return to his terrifying dreams. He didn't get the often, but he did sometimes, and they were usually bad ones, he'd dream that he was back in that dark closet, sitting next to Qaspiel, his mouth sewn shut, he'd feel the pain in his lips, the ache of the holes and pull of the thread, the runes in his neck glowing bright, the pain nearly unbearable, and every time he dreamed that dream, he'd wake up in a cold sweat, nearly hyperventilating, his hands shaking, always flying up to curl his fingers around his neck to feel for the fresh open wounds, always expecting blood to run dripping down his fingers.

He stares at the ceiling, feeling a chill climbing up his spine, and he shakes his head, throwing his blankets away. His mentor had said to come to him whenever he needed him, it hadn't mattered what time it was or what the matter at hand was, if he was needed, he just had to seek him out. He'd never taken his offer up with such a thing, and he worried he might be rebuffed for coming to him for such a childish as having a nightmare, but he could think of nothing else, he needed more sleep, but he didn't think he could get it on his own.

Turning in bed, he sets his feet on the floor, wiggling his toes, he stands from the edge of his bed and crosses the room towards the door, rubbing at his cheek as he reaches out, curling his fingers around the door handle, he pulls his door open, stepping out into the dark hall. He contemplates continuing on down to the kitchen, brewing himself some coffee, and reclaiming his spot in the Lounge to stare at the sky until the sun rises, and shakes his head, that's not a good idea, he might forget to return to his room this time, and he doesn't want to explain as to why he was sitting out there in the first place.

He stops before the door across the hall from his, it's cracked, and the room inside is silent. He raises his hand to push the door open, and he hesitates, unsure of himself and if he's allowed.

"Are you going to come in, or stand out there for the rest of the night?"

He blinks, a light appears out of nowhere, a bedside lamp, and he reaches out to push the door open. "Abe, I thought you were sleeping."

Abraxos gives him a slight smile. "I thought you were too, guess we're both full of surprises, what took you so long, Sablo?"

Sablo blushes lightly, rubbing the back of his head lightly. "How long to what?"

"To come over, I've heard you walk down to the Lounge for the last week, and I know the smell of coffee very well, why didn't you come to me if you were having trouble sleeping?"

He rubs at the back of his head again. "I didn't know I was allowed."

"That's nonsense. I told you that you could come to me for anything, and I meant _anything, _especially bad dreams."

Sablo stares at him. "How did you know it was _those_?"

"Why else would you be making yourself a cup of coffee at three in the morning?" He tilts his head, shooting him another smile. "You're not my first Elect. I know the signs of nightmares when I see them." He raises the edge of the blankets, patting the spot next to him. "Come on, you're getting a _full _night's sleep tonight."

"But—"

"Get over _here, _or I will get up and _drag _you."

The youngest Power squeaks and nods, scurrying over to slide in next to him in the bed, and his mentor hums softly, pulling the blankets down around him, leaning over slightly to flick off the lamp, he settles back against his pillows, pulling their youngest Power back with him. Sablo rests against the crook of his shoulder, and sighs softly when fingers rub gently over the side of his neck, leaning his head back as those fingers slowly curl around to rub at the front of his neck, under his chin, and down around his collar bones.

He licks his lips lightly, feeling himself melting under the light strokes. "How'd you know?"

"Tus used to have the same nightmares. It was always his neck that got him the most. We'd rub his neck like this until he'd settle on down." A finger rubs up under his chin. "Close your eyes." He nods, closing his eyes as he's instructed and he feels himself being lulled into a peaceful state, and he sighs again. "Now, clear your mind." He sighs again, clearing his head of all thoughts, just as he's told, and he feels himself starting to wind down. "And, just drift off." Sablo nods back against him, sighing contentedly as warm fingers stroke over the side of his neck, and he begins to feel weightless, like he's floating, all warm and cozy, not a worry in the world. "Don't fight it. I'll protect you from the bad dreams." He nods again, cuddling slightly under the blankets, the soft stroking over his neck is comforting

Abraxos smiles when his youngest Elect mumbles softly, pressing in closer, Sablo settles down against his mentor. "Mmm…Love you, Abe…."

"I love you too, Sab."


	322. The Newest Little Elect

He's resting on one of the couches, his eyes closed lightly, his head cushioned on his mentor's right thigh, listening to the soft thrum of his guitar strings strumming in the silence of the Lounge, when he hears it, that voice, that voice that made up his fledglinghood, the voice of his best friend, his other half, the one that he'd give up everything for, the voice he hasn't heard for the better part of two years, that voice.

"And, this is the Lounge."

"It's so big."

Abraxos's guitar comes to a silence, and his eyes snap open, focusing on the voice that responds to his Captain, that voice, he knows that voice, he knows that voice better then anyone.

"This is Abraxos."

He feels his mentor lean over, setting his guitar down to rest against the side of the couch, and then he turns back, his hand settling over his forehead lightly. "You can call me Abe."

"Hi, I'm-" he pushes himself up. "Tus!"

"Puri?" A sword and shield clang as they fall to the stone floor. "Puri!"

Puriel throws himself forward, to his feet, and jumps forward as his younger brother jumps over his sword and shield, and they collide in the middle of the Lounge, hugging each other tightly, fiercely and elated at being together once again.

"Tus!" He pulls back slightly, his arms still wrapped around his younger brothers shoulders. "Tus, what are you doing here!"

Titus smiles up at him, his arms still wrapped loosely around his older brothers middle. "Nisroc said he wanted to elect me, whatever that means."

"Tus, that's amazing! That means he chose you to be one of his Powers! That you're the best of the best!" He pulls him back in, hugging him tightly, pressing his cheek to the side of his baby brother's head. "I'm so proud of you!"

"So, that means you're going to be a Power too?"

"Mhmm!" They finally pull away, and he looks up when he feels a hand settle around his shoulder, his mentor smiles down at him. "Abe elected me."

"Puri, that's great!" Titus claps his hands lightly, looking up when he feels the Captain step up to stand at his side. "I told you that you could do it! I knew you could!"

"Yea, you were the only one." Puriel looks down for a moment, and he knows his mentor frowns at the implications of that statement, a large hand rubs over his back and long fingers squeeze his shoulder. "Raph doesn't count."

"Everyone else are losers." His older brother looks up and smiles at him, and he smiles in return, turning his gaze to the Power standing at his brother's side. "He treats you right?"

Puriel smiles wider, looking up at his mentor brightly, Abraxos smiles down at him, poking him on the nose lightly. "Abe is great! He let's me have as many sweets as I want and helps me with my studies and lets me sleep with him when I feel bad! He's great!"

"Aww, thank you, platypus, you're not too bad yourself."

Titus narrows his eyes, as though this was the true test, and he ignores the faint chuckles of the Captain at his side. "What's he say about your weight?"

Abraxos hums softly, curling his arm around his Elect's lower back, his fingers digging lightly into his other side. "Yes, Puri, what does _he _say about your weight?"

Puriel giggles lightly, squirming in his grip, reaching up to curl his fingers in the side of his tunic. "I ahaham beheautifuhuhul and ahamazing and wohonderful just thehe way I aham!"

"Darn right you are."

Nisroc chuckles at them, shaking his head fondly. "You two know each other?"

"He's my big brother!"

"He's my baby brother!"

Abraxos hums softly, wiggling his fingers back in his Elect's side, and Puriel begins to squirm again, swallowing his giggles as he tries to maintain a certain sort of image for his baby brother, and he fails, he knows he does. "Brothers, huh?" He pulls his little Elect closer. "Nis, I wonder if they're _sensitive_ in all the same places."

"That is an interesting inquiry, Abe, perhaps we should check it out."

"Why don't you go show our newest little Elect to his room." Abraxos tugs his elect around to stand before him and leans over to curl his arms around his waist. "I need to _refamiliarize _myself with my Elect first."

"Abe!"

He tightens his arms around him and straightens out, lifting the small elect from his feet, Puriel struggles, kicking his feet and pushing at his mentor's arms around his waist. "I need some time."

"Abe, no!"

Nisroc chuckles, turning slightly to bend over and scoop up his new little Elect's sword and shield. "Take your time."


	323. A Budding Relationship

"Come in." He calls out when he hears a knock on his bedroom door, turning the page in the book he was reading, and kicks his foot lightly under the thick warm blankets, a mug of steaming warm tea beside him, and the snow falling thickly outside his bedroom window. The door opens near silently, and a head pokes in. "Nis?"

The Captain looks up from his book. "Gali?"

"Nis, my room is cold, can I sleep with you?"

He tilts his head, humming fondly. "Did you forget to light the fire like I told you to this morning?"

Galizur licks his lips lightly and nods. "Yes."

He chuckles softly, waving him in. "Well, come on, before all the warmth gets out." His young elect smiles brightly, stepping inside, and turns to close the door behind him. Nisroc looks him over distastefully. "Did you come all the way up here _barefoot_?" He closes his book and sets it down in his lap. "Galizur, it's _freezing _out there." He points to a basket sitting on his desk. "There's a pair of thick wool socks on top, put those on those freezing little piggies."

The young Elect nods, shuffling over to the basket on the desk, and fishes the folded socks off the top, hopping on one foot and then the other as he put them on. He looks down at his feet, wiggling his toes lightly, the socks are so _big _on his feet.

"Now, come on, under the blankets, we have to get you all warmed up."

He darts forward, sliding under the edge of the blankets, sidling up close to his side, he was nice and warm, and he wanted some of it. The Captain chuckles softly, tucking the blankets back down around them, and pulls him in close against his side. Galizur ducks under the blankets, pulling them up under his nose, and curls his hands into the thick fabric. "Are your hands cold too?"

"Mhmm." He nods. "Freezing."

"Freezing little fingers?" Nisroc hums softly. "We can't have that." He reaches over to the bedside table nearest him and leans over, pulling the bottom drawer open, and fishes out a spare pair of mittens. Straightening back out, he holds them out to his tiny Elect, nudging him softly with his arm. "Here, put these on your frozen fingers."

Galizur nods, uncurling his hands from within the blanket, and reaches out to take the thick soft mittens, pulling one on his right hand and then the other on his left, he sighs contentedly, laying back down, the blanket still pulled up high, and curls his arms overtop of it, laying against his mentor's side. "Thanks, Nis."

"Hey, I can't have you freezing on my watch, makes for a bad mentor." He rubs at his shoulders lightly. "And, I can't have you catching a chill, either, those are no fun."

"Very no fun."

Nisroc chuckles lightly, laying back against his pillows, he lifts his left arm for the youth to curl under, and reaches for his book once more. "We'll light the fireplace in your room tomorrow so it's nice and toasty after training."

"Okay, Nis." The young Elect rubs at his nose lightly. "Sorry, I forgot."

"Hey, no harm, no foul." He opens his book back to the page he'd left it on. "I don't mind sharing my warm blankets and bed with you."


	324. A Nonviolent Soul

He was eternally thankful that he had been diligent to go through Theo's files, his ideas for making him his co-Warden had been in the right place, but it had been a horrible decision, he should have gone with his first choice in the beginning, maybe all of this wouldn't have come to pass, all the pain could have been avoided, they may not blame him, but he would blame himself for a while to come.

Sifting through the files for those in Solitary, he approved of most of them, but there had been one that stood out, one that he had set aside, vowing to come back to, they seemed familiar in personality to those he knew rather well. Their file was thick, full of incident reports. Attacking guards, biting prisoners and guards, starting confrontations with others while out on their hour of freedom, but there was something about them that seemed so familiar in his heart.

He flips through their file, reading through the reports again, humming to himself, they reminded him of Sorath and Zazriel, though they'd been on the volatile side, they hadn't been needlessly violent, the reports were too spick and span, painting the guards too innocent, there was a number of Solitary guards he'd sent back to Tus for _'retraining', _he doubted these reports were as honest as they were made out to be, Theo had favored those he hired into their ranks, deliberately so, he'd seen it before everything was taken from him, and he doubted it had stopped once he was changed. He didn't favor anyone over anyone else, he loved them all, they were all his favorites, and, yes, that includes Azbogah. That one is trying, one of Theo's favorites, he was misguided, like Mendrion had been, and it was something he was working on, but just because he disagreed with his demeanor didn't mean he disliked him. He considered it a personal challenge to get him to show his true colors, he saw it, in his eyes, how careful he was, how much he cared, he was simply misguided, and he'd show him the right path to walk down.

There was one guard they seemingly had it out for, one that they focused their violence on, and it left him wondering as to why. Why was this one so much more important than the others, why did they get so much more attention, what made them stand out.

He hums to himself as he closes the file, scooping up the others, he drops them back in the box they'd been kept in, but keeps the one on his desk, this one deserves his attention. He pushes his chair back, turning to the side, and stands, wiping his hands on his trousers, he crosses the threshold of his office and pulls the door open, the two guards posted outside stand up a tad straighter, and he walks out between them. "Come with me." They follow dutifully, he always takes an escort when he goes to Solitary, one can never be too careful.

They come to a stop outside of the thick door that separates Solitary confinement from the rest of the Prison, and reaches for the keys on his belt, sticking the one into the key hole, he turns it, the tumblers in the lock turn, and he pulls the thick door open with ease. It's silent in this hall, no one really speaks, there's really nothing to speak about, he knows they enjoy being out of the darkness though, and though he's not fond of anyone in particular locked in Solitary, it makes him feel good to know they're feeling better. It was all thanks to Jahoel, his little kleptomaniac, that they were granted this privilege.

He walks into the block, his boots falls echo around them, the guards nod at him as he passes, and his eyes linger on the one that was mentioned most in the file he was reading through, before they turn to look at the prisoner in the cell he turns to face, looking between the bars of the little window on the front of the door.

A small body is curled in the corner, sharp eyes stare up at him, and he smiles kindly, reaching for the keys on his belt, and sticks the skeleton key into the cell doors lock, and turns it around, unlocking the door. "On your feet." The prisoner scurries up, standing in the middle of their cell, watching him tensely as he pulls the door open, he steps back, gesturing for the guards to step forward. "Bring him to my office."

Thaddeus watches as the two guards nod, entering the cell, frowning at the discomfort that comes to the little prisoner's eyes at being touched by them, their hands curling around the prisoner's upper arms. "Let him go, he'll walk freely with you," he gives the prisoner his complete attention. "Right, Kafziel?" The young prisoner nods, and he nods in turn, motioning for them all to follow as he turns on his heel and walks out.

He leads them back to his office, waiting in the doorway, he holds the door open for them, the guards stop when he holds up his hand, and he gestures around, keeping his gaze locked on the young prisoner standing between them. "Kafziel, please take a seat in one of the chairs before my desk." The young prisoner nods, stepping forward between the two guards, and enters the Warden's office silently, and he watches the prisoner walk forward cautiously, sitting delicately in the left chair.

Thaddeus nods to the guards. "Thank you, you may return to your posts." He steps inside, closing the door behind him, and they return to standing at the ready just outside, on either side of the door. He crosses around the side of his desk, sitting in the desk chair on the other side, leaning backwards, crossing his arms lightly, watching the nervous prisoner twitch silently, looking around his office curiously, he hopes it's not too intimidating. "Kafziel, how long have you been in Solitary?"

The prisoner turns back around to face him, resting his hands on his lap lightly, staring at him for a long minute. "Almost a year."

"I see, from your reports, I can see why you were put there." He taps the file lightly sitting in front of him. "But something doesn't sit right, they're too clean. From what I've seen, despite their clear editing, is that you never do anything without being provoked first." He taps his upper arm with his right fingers.

"What's so special about Satqiel?" The Warden takes note of the reaction to the name, the way he tenses and his fingers curl together, the quick inhale of breath, and something heavy settles in the bottom of his belly. "From what I've seen, you mostly go after him, why's that?"

Kafziel grits his teeth. "He deserves it."

That peaks his interest. "How so?"

The young prisoner looks down to his lap, his shoulders tensing, his fingers curling into fists, and he waits patiently, an impending sense of dread settling in his belly. "He's bad."

"What makes him so bad?"

Kafziel grits his teeth again, inhaling deeply, this was something extremely personal. "He…..He touches me."

"He _what_?" That has him sitting forward quickly, uncrossing his arms, leaning forward against his desk. "What do you _mean?"_

He licks his lips, nodding lightly. "He…He touches me. The others stopped saying anything because Theo just wrote it off. I don't like him. He deserves it."

Thaddeus purses his lips, standing quickly, he crosses out from behind his desk, leaving the little prisoner for a moment, he throws the door open. "One of you, go put Satqiel in a cell, he'll be dealt with swiftly, and the other one, go alert Titus that I need to see him as immediately." Both guards nods, darting off to do as their told, and he turns back, closing the door behind him, staring at the back of the tense angel's head for a moment. Never, in a thousand years, did he imagine that this would ever happen in his Prison.

Sighing deeply, he crosses his office again, stepping around to squat in front of the shivering younger angel, and he smiles up at him as gently as he can manage. "Kafziel, I am _so _sorry, had someone told me, I would have gone through him immediately, he will be dealt with accordingly to his crimes." He sighs again. "Can I touch you, Kafziel?"

The younger angel stares down at him for a moment, before nodding slightly, watching as the Warden reaches forward, curling him in a hug. He tenses at first, going as rigid as stone, but slowly unwinds, curling his arms around the older angel, he buries his face against the side of his neck, and tears soak into the skin. He rubs at his back, standing straight as the boy falls limp against him, silent sobs wracking his body, and he stands back up, pulling the boy up with him.

He guides his legs around his waist, curling his left hand around the back of the boy's head, he's not sure what to say, he doesn't think telling him _'everything is alright' _is appropriate given the situation, so he sticks with what he assumes is safe and appropriate for this ordeal. "Shh, you're safe, you're safe now." He scratches lightly at the back of his head. "I'll protect you, nothing bad is going to happen to you ever again, I'll keep you safe, I'll protect you."

Thaddeus rubs at the back of his head softly, crossing his office when he hears someone knock on the door, and pauses his rubbing to reach for the door handle, pulling the door open lightly. Titus stands there, his arms crossed loosely, and eyes the young prisoners back with concern when he catches sight of the slight quake in his shoulders.

"Xathaneal said you wanted to see me?"

He nods quickly, tugging one of the guards closer by the sleeve, whispering in their ear softly, they nod, turning off to alert the one that the Warden wanted to see.

Titus steps into his office when he waves him in, his hand returning to the back of the boy's head, scratching at his scalp softly. He tilts his head slightly when the Warden leans in to whisper in his ear, they'd keep this in hushed tones, the boy didn't need to hear it again, telling him was enough. The Power inhales deeply as he fills him in on the situation, his body growing rigid, and he nods when the younger angel pulls away. "I'll deal with this immediately, thank you." He gives a curt nod and turns, walking from the office, Thaddeus watches him go, his fists curled tightly, a tense presence in his step, he's furious, disgusted and furious, he has no sympathy for the one about to face the quiet Power's wrath.

He turns his attention back to the boy, resting his head on his shoulder, his damp little nose pressed to the side of his neck, wheezing softly through his stuffy nose. "I'm going to take care of everything, Kaf, you're never going to see him again, never."

Kafziel nods lightly, inhaling thickly through his stuffy nose, and reaches up lightly to curl his arms around the older angel's neck. He makes him feel safe, he's strong and big, he can be slightly intimidating when he's angry, he knows he'll be protected in these arms, he knows he'll take care of him, he'll keep him safe.

He turns back around when he sees the movement from the corner of his eye.

"You wanted to see me, Thaddy?"

Thaddeus smiles at the young guard, nodding his head carefully, he reaches out with his free hand, flexing his fingers, beckoning him closer. "Yes, thank you for coming so quickly, Shamsiel." The young guard, one of his old prisoners, they know each other very well, steps forward at his beckoning, and he curls his arm around his lower back as he pulls him close, turning his head around, he presses his cheek to the side of his head as he whispers in his ear softly. The guard inhales deeply at the same revelation that had made his captain inhale too, nodding along, nodding up at him when he finally uncurls from around him. He unwinds his arm, takes a slight step back, and watches the guard shakes his head lightly, shimmering softly, his form twists and bends, his hair growing thicker, fur growing over his skin, a hound appears in his place, sitting patiently for him, tail wagging softly behind him. He's still small, though he's grown out of his puppy fuzz, just the right size, he knew what he was doing in bringing these two together.

He scratches firmly at the back of Kafziel's head. "Kaf, I have someone I want you to meet." He feels the young angel tense up, and he rubs at his shoulders gently. "It's alright, I trust him with my life, he'll take good care of you." Kafziel turns slightly, peeking out from under his arm, and the hound smiles up at him, a lopsided smile, it's tongue sticking out of the edge of it's mouth, and he smiles slightly at the sight. Thaddeus leans forward slightly when the boy reaches out for the hound, and the large pup sits up straighter, reaching up to lick at his fingers gently. "This is Shamsiel, he's one of my guards, he's going to be staying with you."

Kafziel slowly unwinds from around him, and he takes that as his orders to put him down, he watches carefully as the boy sits himself down in front of the large puppy, reaching out to pet it's ears back. Shamsiel barks softly, stepping forward, licking at the salty tear tracks running down his cheeks, cleaning him up gently, and he smiles when the boy giggles softly, his fingers curling in the fur on the back of the young hound's neck.

He kneels lightly, rubbing at the boy's back, Kafziel turns to look up at him, giving him a small watery smile. "Is that okay?"

The boy nods silently.

"Good, good. You tell him your boundaries and he'll respect them. He won't do anything to make you uncomfortable, alright?"

The boy nods again. "W—What about Satqiel?"

Thaddeus shakes his head lightly. "You'll never see him again. He's going to be kept far, far away from you. Don't even think about him, he's not worth your thoughts, don't let him plague them."

He nods. "A-Am I going back?"

The Warden shakes his head lightly. "Not right now, right now you need my help, I'll make you up a small bed upstairs in my quarters, and you'll come stay with me for a while, is that alright?"

Kafziel nods lightly. "That's alright."

"Good," he rubs his curls back fondly. "You and Shamsi play for a bit while I finish up on my work and then we'll go scrounge us up some supper."

"O—Okay, Thaddy." The boy nods again, turning back to his new puppy companion, Shamsiel begins licking at his cheeks again, and he giggle softly once more, scrunching his face up lightly as the warm tongue lapped at his cheeks.

He smiles at them, nodding to himself, and stands, reaching over the pair of them to close the door, and turns to return to his desk and the paperwork that awaits him.


	325. A Spot Of A Bother

"Oh, Spot, oh, it's okay." He jogs to his room, holding the puppy securely to his chest, holding his front paw as gently as he can, his hound on his heels. Era and him had been playing rather roughly when the puppy had taken quite a tumble, his squeal of pain had caught his attention immediately, it had been that loud and he had been that close. "Sshhh, I'll get you patched up, it's alright, hang in there for me, hang in there for papa."

Erathaol trots over to their bed, snagging up the puppy's beloved stuffed bear, and hops up onto his bed, setting the bear down next to him, he barks up at his Captain. Nisroc coos at the puppy and leans forward, setting him down between the older hounds front legs. Spot whimpers, whining softly as his leg is jostled as he's set down. The older hound croons softly, purring lightly, and licks at the top of the puppy's head in comfort, nudging him with his nose.

He rushes around his room, gathering the supplies he needs, the supplies he's going to need first, and readying the supplies he knows he'll need after, he sets a few plaster strips to soak in a bowl of water, for a cast, when it came time to cast the puppy's leg, before returning to his hounds sides. Kneeling down at the edge of the bed, he reaches out to scratch behind the dalmatian puppy's ear lightly. "Papa's going to make you feel as good as new again." The puppy whines and licks at his finger. "That's right, papa's going to make it all better."

The Power sets his things down on the edge of the bed, the bowl of soaking plaster strips on the floor at his side, and reaches first for a shot, uncapping the needle, he turns back to his little puppy. "You're going to feel a slight pinch, baby boy, just a slight pinch." Erathaol licks the puppy's head again and lays his head down over him lightly, careful not to block his leg, keeping him from seeing the needle insert into his leg. Spot still barks softly when the needle slides in, whimpering softly in the older hounds neck. "It's alright, Spot, it's alright, it'll help with the pain." He caps the needle once more and sets the syringe aside, reaching for a wound-up ball of gauze, carefully wrapping it around his little leg, from his ankle, up passed the joint, it's a clean break, possibly just a fracture, nothing to set or push back into place. He wraps the gauze bandage around firmly, but not too firm, and reaches for the plaster strips, pulling one up at a time, he wraps them around the puppy leg, bending it a certain way to ensure it heals correctly, and wraps strip after strip until it's thick, not too thick as it would add to much weight, but thick enough to know that the leg won't bend if and when the puppy tries to stand on it.

"There we go, all done, you did so good." Era sits up to allow the puppy to look around, and he smiles at the little guy, reaching out to scratch under his chin with a finger. "Papa is so proud, you did so good, my brave little puppy."

Spot barks softly, a lazy bark, the injection he gave him is going to make him pretty loopy for a bit, but he knows he's aware enough. Nisroc smiles at him, nodding his head, scratching under his chin again. "That's right, papa is so proud, you did so good." He stands, taking the syringe and bowl with him, setting them down on his desk, and he scoops up a small handful of treats out of the bowl resting at the top of his desk, those treats are small, specifically for Spot, and takes up two milk bones for Era, for being such a good big brother, and returns to their side, sitting on the floor in front of them, he holds the milk bones out for the older hound, and Era barks happily, snagging them up in one bite, chomping away happily. He feed Spot his treats one at a time, so he doesn't have to move to get them. "Here you go, you most certainly earned some treats, you did so good, you're so very brave."

His puppy barks again, picking the treat up out of his outstretched hand, munching on it happily, he can see his little tail wagging behind him. "That's right, you get some treats, you did so good, you deserve some treats."

Spot licks his fingers when he swallows his final treat and whines softly when no more replace it.

Nisroc chuckles softly. "No more, we don't want to spoil your supper, we can have a few more for dessert."

The puppy barks in approval. He chuckles again, pushing himself up to his feet, rising into a standing position. Leaning over, he scoops the puppy up, cradling him in his right arm. "Speaking of supper time, it's that time of the evening, let's go get some eats."

Erathaol hopes off the bed as he turns, gesturing for him to follow, and they all make their way across the room and back down the hall. The others have gathered at the table, Puriel is service slices of lasagna, Erathaol barks softly when he finds a piece waiting for him in his own food bowl and digs in happily, Nisroc finds a conveniently placed bottle on the counter, and turns to look at the medic, their eyes meet, and he smiles. "For the baby. A nice bottle of warm milk."

"A real treat after the day he's had." He takes up the bottle and nods in appreciation, turning towards the table, he claims his spot next to Abraxos as the medic puts a slice of his lasagna down on the plate in front of him. "Here you go, little guy." He holds the nipple up to the puppy's mouth, and Spot sniffs it softly, licking it curiously, and barks, batting his good paw as he takes to the nipple and suckles away happily. "Some warm milk will help settle your belly after that whole ordeal."

Puriel serves the older hound a second piece before he sits down and digs into his own masterpiece.

He looks up when his mentor kicks him lightly. "This is very good, little platypus, you'll have to make it again."

"Thanks, Abe."


	326. Another Little Spy

"Another little spy, huh?" He smiles down at the little prisoner strapped to the table, it was always the young ones who turned to espionage, for they were the ones they least expected to be involved in a war, especially ones who hadn't chosen their flocks just yet. "You're not very good at this espionage business, if you were caught so easily, was this your first time?"

The prisoner blushes madly. "No!"

"I think I'll take that vehement denial as an affirmation, instead of a denial, as was intended, I'm sure." Thaddeus tilts his head, tapping fingers over the side of the table, leaning against the edge lightly. "You're lucky Michael isn't Commander anymore, he's not too kind to spies, Nisroc is much more lenient. Fifty-five days, the last spy I had was here for at least one hundred, and he'd only just passed along second hand knowledge." He smiles slightly. "You didn't even get that far, did you?"

"I did too!" The youth exclaims. "I told them everything I know! I know all sorts of stuff! It's important stuff too!"

"Uhuh, tell _me _what you know then, little spy wannabe, spill your secrets to me." He pokes him in the side lightly with his two index fingers, the little angel bites his lip and tries to arch away from him, but he doesn't get too far, in fact, he barely as to reach forward to keep up with him. "Come on Rikbiel, I wanna know your secrets too, tell me all you know, I'm all ears, you have my complete and undivided attention, I won't even interrupt." Rikbiel feels a smile slowly curling his lips as those poking fingers poke up over his side, up to poke around his belly, he squeaks, it's involuntary, he swears, he's just caught by surprise, he'll swear that with his dying breath, when the fingers poke under his belly button. "Oh, is this a particularly sensitive area, that's good to know, come on, Rik, tell me what you know, has a cat got your tongue, you were rather talkative when I first joined you, what's silencing you now?" Giggles bubble in his throat when the fingers poke relentlessly at his lower belly.

The fingers stop poking around, and one worms under his pocket, hooks in slightly, and rests there. "Come on, Rik, don't clam up on me now, do I have to torture all that important information out of you, I should warn you, if that's the case, I've been told I'm pretty bad, not to gloat or brag or anything, but I'm the best torturer we've got, the very best, and from what I've seen thus far, I would say you'd be pretty entertaining to torture, and I love me some free entertainment." Thaddeus smiles when the boy merely shakes his head, still biting at his lip, and digs his finger in. "Well, don't say I didn't give you fair warning."

Rikbiel shrieks, curling up slightly, as best as he can, but the wiggling finger follows him, undisturbed in his movements and motions, in his squirming and twisting. He shrieks with bright laughter and bubbly giggles as the finger assaults him, and he curses himself, it's one measly finger, it shouldn't be getting him this bad. The Warden chuckles down at him, completely at ease, he's not intimidated in the slightest by his attempts at a heated glare and continues wiggling his finger into his hip. "I know all the special spots, I'm sure I know even more then _you_ think you know, I'll show you some _new_ spots while we're here, so you know just how _vulnerable_ you are." He raises his free index finger, flexing it slightly, still continuing his tickly assault with the other. "All I'm using is one finger, just one, and you're already a mess. You're not going to last very long. Spies need to be able to withstand unimaginable tortures in their line of work, you can barely withstand _one_ finger, and if you can't withstand _my _brand of torture, I _know_ you won't be able to withstand _theirs_." He carries on for a few moments, falling into silence for a minute, seemingly basking in his bright cackles and squirms. "Tell me what you know, Rik, tell me everything, or I'll break you and force it out of you, you think this is bad, this is nothing, nothing compared to what I'm capable of, so do yourself the favor and tell me, and I _promise_ to go easy on you."

"Nohohohoho!" The boy shakes his head feverishly, tugging desperately at his bound wrists, kicking his legs as best as he can. "I cahahahahan tahahahake ihihihit! I caahahahahhan ahahahahahhahahaa!"

The Warden shrugs softly, finally pulling his finger away, and he gulps down breaths of air, vowing to himself that he's going to be tougher this time around, he's not going to lose his composure so easily this time, he's ready, he's prepared, he'll face it and not say a word. "Alrighty then, I can't say I'm disappointed, I don't mind torturing little angels, _especially _spies, wannabes or otherwise." He worms his fingers under his trousers waist hemline, pressing his fingers in under there, and he tries to look down, sucking in his belly in an attempt to get away, but it doesn't do anything. "The lower waist is always a good place to go to. Hardly anyone can stand it." He wiggles his fingers in after what could be interrupted as a warning, and he explodes into shrieking laughter, Rikbeil arches his back, lifting clear off the table and swings his hips from side to side harshly. "Oh, ho ho, wow, okay, I wasn't expecting that level of a reaction. This is great. I'll have to remember this for later use." He pulls his fingers out and leans over him, pressing his right arm over his chest to keep him from moving, pulling his trousers waist line down slightly with the fingers of his free hand. "I was going to save these for later, but I wanna see what this does, I'm curious now." He holds him in place and takes a deep breath, dipping down, pressing his lips to his waist line, he smiles at the tingly feeling of his beard rubbing over his skin and twitches as much as he's allowed.

It bursts from him, erupts, like a volcano blowing it's top, when the Warden blows a harsh long raspberry, and his entire body jolts as he screams and squeals.

"EEIEIEIAIAIAIIAIAIAIAAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAEEIEIIEEIEIAIAIAIAIAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAA! NOHHOHOHOHOHOO! THAHAHAHAHADDYYYYYEEIAIAIIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA AHAHHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOT THOHOHOSE! EIEIEIEIAIAAIAIAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEEERE! NOHOHOHOT THEEHEHEHEHERRREEIEIEIEIIEIAIAIIAIAIAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA! AHAHAHHEHEHEHEIEIEIAIAIAIAIAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA EIEIEIAIAIAIAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA IHIHIHIHITS BAHAHAHAHHAD THEHEHEHEHEEERREHEHEEIEIEIIEIIAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! THEHEHEHEHE WOHHOHOHOHOHORST! EIEIEIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHHAHA NOHOHHOHOHOO! STOHOHOOHOHHOOP! EIEIEIIEAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA AHAHHAHAHAHAEIEIEIEIIEAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! IHIHIHIHIHIIHI'LLL TEHEHEHAHAAIAIAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA IHIHIHIHII'LLL TEHEHEHEHHEELLL! EIEIEIAIAAIIAAHAHAHHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAEIEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAA THAHAHAAADDYHYHYHY MEHEHEHHEEEIEIEIIIAHAAHAHHHAHAHAA MEHEHEHEHERCY!"

He pulls away slightly. "This is too good, I think I'm going to stay here, tell me what you know, and I'll stop."

"EEIEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHOREEHEHEHEHEHE! AHAHAHHEIEIEIEIAIAAHAHHAHAHAHAA NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEEHEHHEERREHEHEHEHEE! EIEIEIAIAIAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHA AHAHHAHAHAEAEIEIEIEIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA! IHIHIHHI CAHAHAHAHAN'T TAAHAHHAHAAKE IHIHIHIIT EIEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHHAHAHHA AHAHAHAHHAHAHAEIEIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA PLEHEHEHEHHEHEEASE! AHAHAHAHEIEIEIAIAIAIAIAHHAHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHIHII DOHHOHOHOON'T KNOHHOHOHOOW AHHAHAHHAANYYYYEEYEIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHANYTHIHIHING! IHIHIHIHIHI LIHIHIHIHIED! AHAHAHEHEHEIEIEIAIAIIAAIAIAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA STOHHOHOHOHHOHHOOOOOP! EIEIEIEIAIAAIAIIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA IHIHIHIHIT TIHIHIHIICKLES SOHOHOHO BAHAHHAHAHAD! HAHAHAHAHAEEIEIEIIEIAIAAHIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA PLEHEHEHHEHEASE! THAHAHAHAHADDDYYYY! IHIHIHI DOHOHOHOHON'T KNOHOHOHOHOW ANYHYHYHYHTHING IHIHIHI SWEHEHEHHEHEHEHHAEHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAR! EIEIEIAIAIAAHAHAHHAHAHAHA IHIHIHIHI SWEHEHEHEHEEAR! EIEIEIEIEIAIAIIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA STOHOHOHOHOP STOHOHHOHOHOP PLEHEHEHEHEEIAIIAIAIAIAAIAHAHAAHHAHAHAAEHEHEHEHEASE!"

He blows one final raspberry, and the boy screams, his whole-body jolting, and he pulls away, turning to look him in his bright eyes and red face. Tears pool in his eyes, a few have escaped, and he giggles deliriously, gulping down breath after breath. "You don't know anything, is that what you said?"

Rikbiel can only shake his head, he can't get words passed his delirious giggles, and he smiles down at him, letting his trousers waist line go, he lifts himself up, leaning over him more fully then he could in that position. "Now you know what I do to little spies who are given to me. Are you having second thoughts about this whole espionage business?" The little guy nods feverishly, his belly shaking with the force of his continuous giggles, he nods with him lightly. "That's what I thought you'd say." He reaches above his head, unstrapping his wrists, and the boy's just a pile, a limp little angel, and he chuckles softly, lowering his arms and curling them over his belly. "Let's get you taken care of." He steps around to the foot of the table and unstraps his ankles, before stepping back around to his side, sliding one arm under his knees and the other around his upper back, he lifts him from the table with a slight grunt, and carries him around. Knocking on the thick door with his elbow, one of the guards outside push it open, and he carries the young angel out of the chamber and around to his office, squatting slightly to set him on the cot along the far wall.

Rikbiel watches him as he tugs the blankets up under his chin, his head resting back against the pillow, and follows his hands as he reaches up over his head for a jug of water and pours a glass, easing him up slightly, he holds the glass to his lips. "Take a few sips." He nods, sipping at the cool water greedily, until the glass is empty. "Want some more?" He shakes his head and he's laid back down. "Alright, now, you take a nap, get some rest, and I'll wake you up when it's supper time, alright?"

He nods tiredly, licking his lips, his eyelids drooping. "Okay, Thaddy."

"And, no more of this spy business, right?"

"Right."

"Good boy."


	327. As Hot As The Coals

**_(For currieandsocks, who asked for something with the armours.)_**

Sometimes, he felt like a waiter, working at their beck and call, as though he didn't have his own projects he was working on. They come to him with their weapons and such in disrepair and expect him to mend them, drop whatever he's doing, and do as they want him to, he's been working on this side project for the better part of the last few month months, always getting interrupted to mend something or make something, it was supposed to be a gift, to show his Archangel his affection, he had tried to have it completed by the twenty ninth of September, the day of his celebration, his birthday of sorts, the day of his feast. It was his day. Where the Healer was celebrated and cherished. But they kept coming to him, ordering him to fix this and mend that and make those, and he'd watched as the marks on his calendar crossed day after day, and he lost track of time, mending Oren's shield, sharpening Ephraim's sword, making new arrows for Constantine, making new needles and flasks and basins and ladles, as though he was some sort of servant there to work at their beck and call.

His brothers turn when the fires of Heaven's furnace seem to flare, looking first into the flames, and then back at him, as he throws the shield back at the Virtues Captain, chucking a heavy hammer with it. Oren caught them both at the last minute, before they smacked him in the face, the Healer's armour had an experts aim, and stares at him in awe, it's so rare to see the even tempered armour lose his temper. "_You _mend it!" He snatches up his project and a small bag of tools, and stalks away, leaving the Virtue and fellow armours watching as he disappeared up the stairs.

…

"What's this I hear about you throwing a hammer at Oren's head?"

He tenses at the voice behind him, and his free hand curls into a fist, of course that big _sissy _would tell on him. Of course he would. He ignores the voice, leaning over the flattened boulder he's chosen as his improvised work bench, silently working on his project that was supposed to be finished nearly a _month and a half_ ago, having to use his burning grace and a small pick tool as an improvised torch, it was all in the rune work, and that was his specialty, he was the best at it, out of all his brothers, perhaps it was because he was so anal when it came to his work, oh well, no harm no foul.

A shadow falls over him, and long fingers curl around his shoulders, thumbs digging into the tense muscle, he's always so tense, from working long days in the forge, and he melts lightly under the touch. "Salathiel, are you ignoring me?"

"No." He grinds out, though it lacks as much venom as it should, as the fingers continue rubbing at his shoulders. "I'm just angry."

"So I've heard, care to share with me?"

The armour tugs on the dreads hanging over his shoulders and gestures to the intricate dagger he's been working on, the one that was supposed to be a gift, it's special, he really put a lot of thought into this one. "It's not done yet."

"You're working on a new project?" The fingers pull away and he admits to himself that he feels a sense of loss as they do, he rubs in just the right way, massages the tension away just how he likes. The Healer comes out from behind him, claiming the spot to his right, and looks to him as he reaches out for the intricately designed dagger. Salathiel nods, burying his face in his hands, there's no use in keeping it a surprise anymore.

"The rune work is exquisite, Sala, you've always had such finesse at rune work." Raphael traces his finger over the engravings, one is his name in enochian, along the wave of the blade, the blade itself is jagged, the shape of a bolt of lightning, and on the other side if a rune for control, and he traces his finger over that too. The handle is smooth leather, small emerald jewels outline the ends, and at the butt of the dagger is a rounded deep-sea green jewel. "It's beautiful, Sala, truly a masterpiece."

He turns slightly, peering up from his fingers, and sighs deeply. "It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday, but I didn't get to finish it in time."

"Well, I'm still quite surprised, it's truly a wonderful creation."

Salathiel lowers his hands, leaning over slightly, and runs his smudged finger up over the lines running down the middle of the blade. "I made it so you can channel your electricity through it, that's what the control rune is for, to centralize it, I made it so you could turn it into a whip of pure lightning. That's why the blade is curved the way it is, to allow the currents to flow more smoothly and give them direction."

"Salathiel, that's ingenious, I love it, thank you."

The armour leans forward, riffling through his bag, and pulls out a leather pouch. "I made a sheath too."

He looks back down, setting his hands to rest in his lap, rubbing his fingers together to spread the smudge around, leaning into his archangel's side. "Sorry I threw a hammer at Oren's head."

"It's not alright, but I understand," the Healer tucks the dagger into it's sheath and leans forward to set it down on the flattened boulder. "If I had been continually interrupted whilst working on something I deemed to be of utmost importance, I'd be rather flustered myself." He rubs the back of the armours neck lightly. "You need to get yourself cleaned up, Sala, and then I think a nice nap is in order."

"I'm not tired."

He digs a fingers into a tense muscle in his back and Salathiel arches slightly, leaning into the touch, leaning heavily against his Archangel's side. "I think I can remedy that."

"That feels good, right there, right there feels really good."

Raphael chuckles softly, pulling his finger away, rubbing the armours back when he audibly whines at his retreat. "If you come back with me and get cleaned up, I'll rub your back for you."

"Are you…Are you bribing me?"

"That depends," he leans forward to gather up the armours tools and set them back in his pack, then turns back to look at him. "Is it working?"

"Can I sleep in your bed?"

"Of course."

"Will you carry me?"

He chuckles lightly, nodding his head softly. "You can ride on my back."

"Okay," Salathiel climbs to his feet, rubbing his hands together. "It's working."


	328. Cold Rainy Days

He knows he should probably return to his own room and change out of his soaked clothes, ask someone to make him a big warm mug of tea and a bowl of steamy chicken soap, bundle up under a warm blanket, and start trying to prevent a cold as soon as he can.

But he does neither of those things.

Instead, he turns the other way, away from his room, and steps into his older brothers room.

Puriel looks up from the papers he's reading through when he sees the movement out of the corner of his eye, and frowns, pushing his chair back. "Hasmal, you're dripping!" He rushes forward, guiding him around by the shoulders, he allows himself to be guided into his brother's room, standing in the center of his room, shivering lightly from the chill starting to set in. "Shuck out of those soaked clothes, baby dragon." He nods, pulling his soaked tunic up over his head, shimmying out of his trousers, watching his older brother dig inside his wardrobe for a thick pair of pajamas. "You're going to catch yourself a cold, you should have changed immediately, what were you thinking, Hasmal!"

"I wanted you."

His mentor gives him a particular look as he turns back to face him, holding out a pair of flannel pajamas, which he takes as he's silently instructed and starts pulling them on, they're much too big, but they smell like his big brother, so it's okay.

"You wanted me to pamper you, you mean."

He giggles softly, buttoning up the top, and nods when he looks back up to the older angel. "I did."

The medic smiles knowingly, and steps forward, catching him by the shoulders. "You didn't have to soak yourself to get me to dote on you, I'd have done if you had simply asked, you didn't have to go through all that trouble."

Hasmal smiles up at him. "I've never been one to do things by halves."

The older angel chuckles, shaking his head fondly. "No, you sure haven't." He guides him backwards, and Hasmal stumbles slightly over the first step, and tumbles backwards to sit over the bottom edge of the medic's bed. "We're not done bundling you up just yet, you sit here."

"We're not done yet?" He tilts his head. "But I'm not wet anymore."

"Oh, I know you're not, but with your internal heater malfunctioning, you're more likely to catch yourself a chill more than ever, and while I wouldn't mind caring for you, we're not going to pass up on every chance of avoidance." Puriel turns away from him to return to his wardrobe, and pulls the doors open, reaching inside, he withdrawals a large pair of thick socks, and turns back to him as he pulls them apart. "Okay, mister, give me those feet, left, then right." He nods, holding his feet up as he's instructed to, watching silently as the medic slides one sock on, and then the other. "Alright, feet nice and toasty." He turns back to his wardrobe and reaches back in. "Now, give me those hands." He holds his hands out, watching as he slides the mittens on, and he flexes his fingers lightly. "Now," he looks up as the medic points at the blankets. "Under those blankets, mister."

Giggling softly, the younger angel turns and crawls up to the top of the bed, pulling the blankets down for him to crawl under, and he situates himself back against the pillows, watching his older brother turn away from him. He set's a kettle on the rack in the fire place and begins boiling some water for some warm tea. "You stay under those blankets, mister."

Hasmal nods, pulling the blankets up under his chin, and crosses his arms loosely, watching his older brother mess around a bit. Puriel folds the basket of laundry laying next to his desk, he shuffles the papers together and sets them to rest on the edge of his desk, closes the doors to his wardrobe.

The kettle squeals softly when the waters boiling, and the medic makes him up a large mug of tea. Apple and cinnamon tea, three sugar cubes, and just a few drops of creamer, stirs it all together, and returns to his side. "Careful, baby dragon, it's still fresh off the fire."

He raises the mug, blowing on the top lightly for a moment, and takes a small sip, humming in content.

Puriel slides in next to him, and he scoots closer, leaning against his arm, and takes another sip of his tea. "Thanks, Puri."

"I won't lecture you." His mentor curls an arm around him and pulls him in closer. "Because, I'm in such a nice mood."

"You're my favorite."

He chuckles, leaning over to kiss him on the side of the head, and lifts his mug with a finger. "You're my favorite too, baby dragon."

Hasmal takes another sip and sighs, resting his head on the older angel's shoulder, and Puriel chuckles softly. "You better finish that tea before you fall asleep."

"Oh, but Puri, I'm so cozy and the mug is so _big_."

The medic chuckles again. "Alright, fine, since you've worn me down, if you fall asleep, I'll heat it up for you to finish when you wake up."

"Puri, you're the greatest." The young fire bender lays himself against him more fully, taking another sip from his tea, and sighs in content. "Thanks for taking care of me."

"I'll always be here to take care of you, little guy, I'm not going anywhere, any time soon." He rubs at his arm lightly as he lays them back against the pillows even more. "You're stuck with me and all my smothering."

"I'm glad." Hasmal presses close, sighing contentedly. "I missed it."

"Well, I'm glad, I have a whole lot to offer you."

He smiles, setting his mug down in his lap, and sighs softly once more. "I'm all warm and comfy."

"Good," Puriel rubs his arm lightly. "It'll help stave off a possible cold." He pulls him closer. "We'll get you as warm as we can."

Hasmal nods, and feels a yawn pull at his features, and he lifts his mug up to his older brother. "Puri, can I finish this later?"

The medic chuckles softly and nods, lifting the mug out of his hands with one of his own, and leans over to set it on the bedside table. "Feeling sleepy?"

"Mhmm." The younger angel cuddles closer, and the medic lowers them back against the pillows completely as the youth curls into his side, resting his head in the crook of his shoulder. "Warm and sleepy."

"Good, good, that's what I was hoping for." He reaches over, pulling the blankets up under the youth's chin, smiling down at him as he smacks his lips and his eyes slowly flutter closed. "You get a good rest."


	329. Disobeying The Warden

**(As requested by currieandsocks, Barbados getting in trouble with Thaddy and becoming very clingy afterwards. Sorry it took so long! I promise I got your requests!) **

"No! Thaddy! Not yet!" The youngling curls around him tighter when he makes to push himself up, he'd been punished for disobeying one of his rules, neither of them had liked it, the belt had warmed another bottom, and they'd laid down together afterwards. "Not yet!"

"Ados," he chuckles softly, rubbing his hand down the back of the boy's head, and Barbados peers up at him. "I have work to do."

"Not yet, Thaddy, please! Don't leave me!" The young angel wraps his arms around him as best as he can, pressing his ear firmly to his belly. "Not yet! Please, Thaddy, not yet!"

The Warden chuckles softly, curling his fingers down under the boy's arms, and pulls him up higher over his chest, and rubs his cheek lightly with his right index finger. "Just a little bit longer, but then I really have to go."

"Thaddy, I don't want you to go, please don't go!"

"Well, someone's feeling mighty needy now." He scratches lightly at the back of his head as he smiles down at the boy fondly. "I wasn't too rough with you."

"Hold me, Thaddy?"

Thaddeus shakes his head fondly, scratching at the back of the boy's head, and leans forward to reach for the blanket. "I've got you; I'll hold you; you just relax." Barbados nods over his chest, curling his fingers in the front of the Warden's tunic, heaving a deep sigh. "Promise not to let go, Thaddy?"

"I promise, Ados, I won't let you go." He rubs his curls back tenderly. "You go on and rest, I'll be here when you wake up."


	330. Favorite Little Belly

"Ah, it's nice to have you back where I want you." Peliel giggles as fingers curl around the bottom hem of his tunic, pushing it up slowly, his belly shakes with his giggles, and he whines softly, he wishes it wouldn't. "No, no, no hating on this little belly. Only positive vibes here. What have we here?" He lays over him as he pushes his tunic up over his chest. "Oh, look at what I found, lookie here," he wiggles a finger lightly under his belly button, and he shrieks softly, arching his back slightly. "I found a little belly."

"Puhuhuhuri!"

"I don't know who could hate this adorable little tummy, just look at it," he scrunches the little chubby belly up. "It's delectable." And buries his face in the roll that he creates, munching on it playfully, the younger angel throws his head back and squeals, arching his back again. He munches for a good minute, until the youth is slightly breathless, and then he pulls away. "Mmm, my favorite little belly, I love this belly very much, Peli, if you ever change it, I will be quite upset." Peliel giggles up at him breathlessly, and he smiles, leaning over to press a kiss over his belly button. "How about I give this adorable little tummy a bit of a tickle torture, how's that sound, does that sound like a plan?"

"Puri, Nohoho!"

"I knew you'd see it my way." He rests his fingers on either side of his belly, poked in, ready for action, and the young guard's giggles pick up quickly as he stares at them, waiting in anticipation for the strike. "One adorably tummy tickle torture coming right up." He wiggles his fingers in and the guard squeals, throwing his head back, squirming from side to side, shrieking with laughter as the fingers circle a tickly dance over his belly.

"Puhuhuhurrihihihihii! Nohhohohoho! Nohohohot theheheheerreehehehehehe! Nohohot theheheh tuhuhuhummy! Eeeiiaiaiaiahahaahahahhahaha!"

"Why not?" Puriel moves to wiggle his fingers into his lower belly. "Could it be because this belly is just a wee bit ticklish?"

"Yehehehehes!" He arches his back. "Tihihihihickles! Ihihihit tihihihickles! Eeiaiiaaiahhahahahaha ahahahhahahahaaa!"

"If that's true, then it only rightfully deserves as many tickles as it can get, don't you think?"

"Nohohohooho! Eaiaiaiaiaiahahahhahahaa I dohohohon't! Aaahahahahahhaha!"

"Well, I do," the medic pulls his fingers away, curling his arms around his sides slightly, looking down at his belly fondly. "And, who would know better then me?" He eyes his belly hungrily. "Time for a snack."

"Puri, no!"

"Snack time." He takes a deep breath and rushes down, burying his face into the young guards chubby little tummy, resting there for a moment to let him stew in the anticipation, and then he blows.

"EEIEIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAHAA NOHOHOHO AHAHAHAHHA NOHOHOHOT THOHOHOOSE! EIEIEIAIAAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA PUUHUHUHUHURIIHIHIHIHIHI! AHAHAHEIEIEIAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHAHEIEIEAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA! THOHOHOHOSE TIHIHIHICKLE! EIEIEIAHHAHAHAHAHHAA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAA EIEIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! THEHEHEHEY TIHIHIHICKLE BAHAHAHAHAD! EIEIEIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAEIEIEIAIAIAIAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA! PUHHUHUHUURIIIHIHIHIHII! HEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAIAIAIAIAIAHAAHHAHAHAHA! STOHOHOHHOP! STOHOHOHHOOP THAHAHAHAAT! NOHOHOHHOT THOHOHOHOSE! EIEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAHAA!"

He pulls away from his belly to take a breath, chuckling softly at his squeals, and leans over to the other side. "How about over here?"

"NO!" Peliel squeals, arching his back, his eyes widen when he feels arms wind underneath, and a face press into the side of his belly. "EEEIIEIAIAAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHAA! NOHOHOHOT AHAHAHAHAAGAIN! EIEIEIAAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHA AHAHAHHAHAHAHEEEAHAHAIAIAIAIAAHAHHHAHAHAHA! NOHOHHOHOHO! NOHOOHOHOT THOHOHOSE! EIEIEIAIAIAIAAHAHHAAHHAHAA AHAAHAHAHAHAHA! PUHUHUHUHURRIIHIHIHIHIHIEEIEIIAAIAHAHHAHAAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOT THOHOHOSE! THOHOHHOHOSE TIHIHIHIHICKLE EIEIEIAIAIAIAHAHHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHHAAHAHAEIEIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA IHIHIHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLES!"

He laughs breathlessly as the Power pulls away from that side of his tummy and scoots down some, pressing his lips up under his belly button, takes a deep inhale, and blows.

"EEIIAIAIAIAIAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA AHAHHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHORE! EIEIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAAHA PUHUHUHUHUUHURRIHIHHHIHIIHI! EIEIEIAIAIAHHAAHHAHA AHAHAHAHEIEIEIEIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEHEHEHEHHEASE! EIEIEIAIAAIAAHAHHAHAHAHAAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHEEIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! IHIHIHIHII CAHAHAHAHAHAAN'T TAHAHHAHAHAKE IHIHIHIHIT! EEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAA NOHOHOHOT THEEHEHEHEHHERE! NOHOHHOHOT THEHEHEHEHERREEHEHEHEHE! EEIIAIAIAAIAHAHAHHAHAA PUHUHUHURRRIIIHIHIHIHIHIIIEEIEIIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEHHEEASE! NOHOHOHO MOOHOHHOHORE! NOHHOHOHO MOHOHOHORE! EIEIIAIAIAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHA!"

Puriel chuckles softly, pulling himself forward, uncurling his arms from around the young guards waist, and lifts himself to rest above him, pressing their foreheads together as the little guard giggles madly.

He waits until his breathing calms down. "Who's got a cute little tummy?"

Peliel giggles up at him. "I dohoho."

"Darn right you do," he pecks him on the nose. "What are you?"

He giggles again, leaning up to brush their noses together. "I'm peherfect."

"Darn right!" The Power rolls off him, rolling over to lay on his back, curling an arm under his head. "Want to help me wrap Christmas gifts?"

Peliel shakes his head. "I think I'm going to take a nap." He pulls his tunic back down and leans forward to pull the blankets up over him. "I'm sleepy now."

Puriel smiles at him, tucking the blanket up under his chin, rubbing a finger over his nose, before pulling his hand back. "Tickles always make sleepy angels, it is, how it is. And, while you're napping, I'll wrap up your gifts."

"My gifts?"

"Yours."

"What'd you get me?"

He chuckles, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Nice try."


	331. Like A Duckling

**For robin0203, you mentioned this scenario in a comment once, Sasha hurting himself and not wanting to bother Puri because he's in a bad mood and he goes to see Raph and just follows him around until Raph asks what's wrong, I don't know if you meant it as a request, but it was so cute that I had to do it anyway! :D**

Sasha is aware of two things almost immediately, one, his ankle hurts, really really hurts, and two, Puri is in a bad mood, and no one can seem to manage to lift it, not even Abe, which is saying something on the severity of his mood situation.

He'd landed awkwardly on his ankle yesterday during training, and something had popped, he knew something was wrong, but he'd assumed he'd just twisted it and decided his best course of action was to ice it before bed and take it easy over the weekend, and things would be better by Monday.

But he woke up on Saturday, and knew his plan was gone, right out the window, when he saw how red and rotund his ankle had become overnight.

Puri was still in a bad mood, and he didn't want to bother him, lest he turn the aggression over on himself, and he didn't want that, no matter how unintended it was.

He peeks outside his papa's door, looking down one way, then the other, trying to see if anyone could possibly see him make his way down the hall, and when he spots no one, he opens the door even more and limps out carefully, trying to be as quiet as possible, as to not draw attention to himself, he just had to make it to the Infirmary, get his ankle looked at, and make it all the way back before someone noticed his absence. The Lounge was empty, thankfully, when he came out of the end of the hall, and limped his way down the stairs carefully, gritting his teeth at the pain it emitted from his ankle at such an action.

Limping down the dirt path towards the entrance of the training field, he takes the steps down carefully, one at a time, until he hits the Axis at the bottom. He sticks to the edge, not many people travel along the edge, which didn't make sense in his opinion, it was less congested at the edge, but he wasn't complaining, it also meant he wasn't being shoved around and jostling his ankle too much.

He grit his teeth as he came to stand at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the Infirmary, there seemed to be a thousand of them, and sighing deeply, he lifts his foot, and takes the first one up. When he reaches the top he has to pause and take a break, flinching at the twinge in his ankle, and takes a deep breath as he limps forward, his ankle throbbing with every step, he tries not to put too much weight on it, and that's no easy feat.

Coming to stand at the entrance of the Infirmary, he sees just how busy they are, packed to the brim, he can't even spot an empty bed, and that's saying something, there's always an empty bed in the Infirmary, even when it's packed like this.

He turns to watch the Archangel walk passed him, clearly not noticing him standing in the doorway, reading through a few files as he made his way to his next patient, and he follows after him, limping a pace behind him, standing there awkwardly as the Healer sits on the chair next to the patients bed and begins running through the discharge process and what they are to do once they're discharged back into their own care. He follows him to the next one, then to the next, and on to the third, then on to the fourth, his ankle finally gives out, and he yelps as he tumbles forward, colliding into the Healer's back, he curls his arms around his neck to keep from falling to the floor. The Archangel grunts at the sudden impact, and falls forward slightly, quickly catching himself.

Sasha looks up when he feels long fingers curl around his left wrist, and the Healer's turned to look at him from over his shoulder. "So, you're the one that's been following after me."

Raphael turns in his seat to face him. "What happened?" He struggles to keep on his feet, tries to put a bit of pressure onto his ankle, and nearly tumbles over, he would have had it not been for the Healer catching him before he could have. "I see." He sweeps an arm under his knees and stands, sweeping him up off his feet. "Let's get you off that ankle, shall we?"

He carries him over to an empty bed, leaning over to set him down gently, and pulls the seat around to sit at his side. "What happened to that ankle?" He scoots down to the foot of the bed and pokes around his ankle, feeling for tenderness, to gage how tender it truly was.

"I landed on it funny yesterday. I thought I had just twisted it, so I put some ice on it last night before bed, and when I woke up it looked like this."

"Well, I can assure you, it's more than just a simple twist." The Healer's emerald eyes flick up to him when he hisses, his leg jerking, when he finds a particularly sensitive spot. "You've definitely sprained it, it doesn't seem to be too serious, nothing appears to be torn, not completely anyway, perhaps some bruising and inflammation, or minor tearing." He watches the Archangel scoot over to the cart, lean over to open the fourth drawer and reach in for a few things, close the drawer, and scoot back down to his ankle. He sets his things down and apologizes softly when he lifts his leg slightly and the boy hisses again, wrapping a long strip of gauze padding around his ankle, up under his foot, creating a stirrup, and then back up around his ankle, creating a stabilizing brace with it. "Why didn't you ask Puriel to tend to it, I know he knows how."

Sasha scratches at his arm lightly. "I didn't want to bother him. He's been in a bad mood and I think it's because he's been overworked again."

"I see."

Raphael reaches for the long bandage, wrapping it snuggly around the sore ankle, up his foot, right under is toes, and then back up his leg, just above the ankle, over his lower calf, and back down and around again. "Unless it's absolutely dire, using the restroom as an example, I want you to put as little weight on this ankle as you can, it's rather tender, and we don't need the tearing to get any worse, it'll be right sore and take longer to mend. No strenuous activity, absolutely no jumping around, easy light foot steps when you need to walk, slow movements, a careful gate." He pats the bottom of his foot lightly. "Take the wrap off and ice it before bed, in the morning ice it another fifteen minutes and then rewrap it, firmly, but not too tightly as to cut off circulation, be sure you can fit two fingers underneath the binding.

The Healer smiles up at him. "You're good to go, for now, I'll have someone aid you back, I don't want you taking the stairs on your own." He waves over a passing healer, and the young man trots over to their side. "Arlo, aid him in walking back to the Pavilion, carry most of his weight on the left side." The healer nods, tugging the youngling's left arm around his shoulders when the Healer helps him to his feet, Raphael holds up a hand before they can depart, turning his attention completely to the healer at Sasha's side. "You may run into Peliel while you are there, I will be asking Sasha later on how you behaved yourself in his presence, I hope you understand you don't want me to hear anything but good remarks." Arlo nods firmly, blushing lightly at the thought of the youngling hearing this, and the Healer hums softly, nodding his head lightly. "Good, you may go."

They hobble away from him, and he watches them go, shaking his head lightly as they disappear from sight down the steps, and turns to return to what he had been doing before he'd been sidetracked.

…

Puriel glances up from the book he's reading in the Lounge when the youngling and the healer (he recognizes him, and a surge of protectiveness for his favorite little bellied guard washes over him, but he's the bigger person here, and swallows it) and he watches the pair of them hobble up the final stair, raising an eyebrow at the bound ankle the youngling sports, his nephew in all but blood.

Sasha turns to look at the healer, panting lightly, it was hard work hobbling all the way back here on one foot, even with the extra support, his good leg was sore from jumping one legged for the entire way. "Can you set me down over there?" Arlo nods, guiding him around, matching his pace, as to not topple him over, and carefully deposits him on the other end of the couch the medic rests on. "Thanks." The healer nods again, turning to leave him now that he was in place, back where he needed to be, and disappears silently down the stairs once more.

He can feel the tension in the air, and he doesn't dare poke at it, lest it explode and he face those repercussions. Sasha looks down to his hands when he hears the medic's book snap closed gently, and feels his bad ankle being lifted up to rest in his lap, looking up only when he pinches his big toe firmly, it doesn't hurt his ankle, it's wrapped immobile and snugly, but it pulls him from his silent reverie.

Puriel touches a finger to his ankle lightly before returning it to his toes. "What happened?"

Sasha twiddles his fingers lightly. "I umm….I landed on it funny yesterday and Raph said I sprained it."

"Tearing?"

He shrugs lightly. "Raph said if there was any, it was minimal, nothing too bad."

The medic nods lightly. "You'll be resting it for a few weeks until it can heal."

"I know, that's what Raph said too."

He shakes his head. "You _walked _all the way to the Infirmary on a sprained ankle with slightly torn ligaments, why didn't you come to me if your ankle was hurt?"

Sasha bites his lip, he'd known this would have happened once someone found out, he'd hoped it wouldn't be the medic, not first, anyway. "In my defense, I didn't know it was sprained at the time."

_"Sashael." _The gentle snap makes him flinch slightly, especially at the use of his full name. "That excuse is _very _weak, and you know it is, you should have told me, I would have tended to you, why didn't you come to me?"

The youngling twiddles his fingers slightly. "You were already in a bad mood and I suspected it was because you were so overworked again, and I didn't want to add onto it, I didn't want to bother you with something I didn't think was that serious."

"Any injury is serious, even something as simple as a stubbed toe, you know that." He sighs softly, pinching at his big toe again, and the youngling bites back a small giggle at the feeling. "I can't be upset though, I pushed you away with my demeanor, and I should have noticed something was off, I didn't, and I'm sorry." Puriel looks up at him. "Forgive me?"

"I was never upset, so there's nothing for me to forgive you for." He waves away the apology, not meanly though, he doesn't want to hurt his feelings. "I'm sorry we've been overworking you so much lately, we shouldn't just expect you to drop what you're doing to tend to us all the time, you don't work at our beck and call."

He waves his apology away too, gently. "There's no need for apologies. I'm your guys medic too. I should get so upset."

"I understand though, it's okay, sometimes we ask for too much, you need time for yourself too and we should recognize that sometimes."

Puriel smiles at him. "I appreciate that. I don't mind caring for you all, the workload isn't too overwhelming, not usually, typically only when you all learn a new maneuver or when you use your grace in combat training after learning something new with it, but other than that, it's not too bad. I shouldn't have been such a grump."

He smiles back at the medic. "I'm sorry for not coming to you."

"Bygones are bygones. I haven't exactly been very welcoming lately." The Power curls a finger under his baby toe and scratches lightly, this time his soft giggle escapes before he can swallow it down, and the medic smiles knowingly. "Besides, I can punish you for that by having some fun with these toes, we haven't had any real quality time in a long time, we have all the time in the world now." He reaches upwards to dig a few fingers into his inner left thigh, and he throws his bed back, squealing softly as he slides down onto his back, the medic tugging on his leg lightly, below his knee, mindful of his ankle, before reaching back up to wiggle his fingers into his inner thigh lightly. It's a light touch, nothing too deep, but it still drives him crazy, flailing his arms lightly, curling them around his belly when flailing them seems to do nothing to inhibit the medic's fingers, as he cackles softly on his back. "Maybe have some fun here, too, you can't go anywhere with a sprained ankle, I've got you right where I want you." He pulls away from his thigh and returns to his toes, eyeing them playfully. "How about some toe nibbles?"

"Puhuhurrihihi! Nohoho!"

"Oh, now I _have _to do some toe nibbles."


	332. Meeting The Challenge

"You want to challenge _me_, in _my _own Prison, in _my _own _home_?" Azbogah glares at him defiantly, raising his chin slightly in defiance, refusing to back down from the Warden's unravelling temper, he doesn't even clue in that perhaps, perhaps he had gone too far this time. Thaddeus jabs him in the chest harshly. "Fine, I _accept_ your challenge." He snags him by the upper arm and turns, yanking him forward, and he stumbles as he tries to keep up with the Warden's long strides, he's just so damn tall, and they leave the others behind rather swiftly, Mendrion and Rogziel watching them disappear around a corner, Sabaoth standing between them.

The Warden's grip on his arm is firm, tight even, but he doesn't think it's tight enough to leave a bruise, at least, he hopes not.

Thaddeus throws his office door open and shoves him forward. "Against the wall." He stumbles forward and stops. "I said, _against the wall._" The Warden shoves him forward harshly, and he stumbles again, coming to rest before the wall. "Hands on the wall." He stands there limply, and a presence comes up behind him, fingers curl around his wrists and lift his arms roughly, pressing his palms to the wall firmly. "_Hands on the wall."_

"You don't scare me."

"You know what I think you need, Azbogah?" The presence behind him disappears, and his eyes widen when he hears the Warden's whip crack open, suddenly feeling like he was in a very compromising position. "I think you need to be _whipped _into shape." He looks down when he feels his trousers get tugged down lightly. "And, I'm just the guy for the job."

The office falls silent, and he shifts on his feet, feeling very exposed.

Thaddeus folds his whip over and throws his arm back.

The shriek he releases is an involuntary response, as is the way he jumps forward, when the whip comes thrashing down over his bare behind. His hands come flying back immediately, and he jumps around, staring at the Warden with wide eyes.

He shakes his head, twirling his finger around slightly, pointing at the wall. "_Hands on the wall, _Azbogah."

The young guard turns slowly, reaching out hesitantly to press his hands to the wall again, and he waits in tense anticipation for the next lashing, he's as tense as a spring when it finally comes, and he shrieks again, jumping up off his feet. He jumps with every thrash, shrieking intermittently, as tears quickly come to his eyes, and despite his best attempts, before he even realizes it, he's sobbing his little angel heart out, begging for him to stop, and they're only twelve lashes in.

"Stop! Stop! Please! No more!" He bounces up onto his toes, shrieking at the next thrash, he shakes his head frantically. "No more! I'm sorry! I'm sohohorry!"

"Do I seem _weak _to you?" Thaddeus throws his arm back again. "Does this feel _weak_, Azbogah?"

"NO! Nonono! Nohot weheak! Not weak! Please! Please, no more! I'm sorry!"

"Sorry for _what_?"

"F—For challenging you all—all the time!"

He nods, throwing his arm around again. "Are we going to have to go through this _again_, Azbogah?"

"No! NO! Never again! Nehever again!"

"Good, because I don't want to have to." The last thrash has him shrieking again, and his hands finally rush back, curling around his warm tanned behind, and he bounces in place, bouncing around, rubbing at his bottom miserably, and he cries freely, all his previous bravado and hot air gone, sobbed away.

Thaddeus pays him no mind as he winds his whip back up, leaning over to set it down on his desk, and finally turns his attention to the sobbing guard. "Did you enjoy that experience, Azbogah?"

He shakes his head feverishly, biting his lip to try and stave off the sobs, but they break through anyway.

"I didn't think so." He shakes his head in turn, not liking that he was pushed to this point, but now isn't the time for that. "Hopefully, that gets through to you." He tilts his head slightly and holds out his arms. "Are you too big and tough for me to offer you some comfort?"

The young guard bites his lip, rubbing at his bottom, and shakes his head quickly, jumping forward. Thaddeus smiles slightly, huffing lightly, when the guard collides into him, curling around him tightly. He curls his arms down around him, curling his fingers around the waist of his trousers, he pulls them up, and rubs at his back softly. "There, there, it's alright, you're alright." Azbogah sobs into his chest, clutching at the back of his tunic tightly, and mumbles something nearly in coherent, but he catches it well enough. "Yes, yes, I forgive you, there you go, let it out, there, there."

He mumbles again and it makes him chuckle. "I'd expect your butt to hurt some, yes." He hugs him tightly, rubbing the back of his head. "Come on, come now, calm down, it's alright. Focus on your breathing. You're going to make yourself sick if you keep on like this." Azbogah nods, taking a deep breath, holding his breath for a long moment, before letting it go. "There you are." He fishes in his pocket for his hankie. "Let's get you all cleaned up again." He pulls the young guard away slightly, rubbing at his cheeks and nose with his hankie, mopping up the tears and trailing snot. "There we go, as good as new, no one will suspect a thing."

Azbogah sniffles miserably and stares up at him pitifully and he chuckles again. "Okay, you pitiful little puppy," he gestures to the cot along the farther wall. "Why don't you take a small nap, then. That'll make you feel better." The Warden guides the young guard over to the cot, leaning over to pull the blankets back. "Kick off your boots." Azbogah nods, toeing his boots off quickly. "Now, climb in." He nods again, leaning over as he climbs in under the blankets, Thaddeus tucks them up under his chin and reaches up to brush his curls back lightly. "Get some sleep. I'll wake you up in a bit."

The young guard nods, and he watches for a moment as his eyes slowly close, and after a few minutes, his breathing evens out gently, and he smiles, turning back for his desk.


	333. Reset The Bone

He knew it was bad when he tried to stand up and fell back, his leg exploding in waves of pain, and he falls back with a yell, reaching down to clutch his hands around the injury, tears springing to his eyes involuntarily, of their own accord. He can hear his name being called, someone's shouting, a lot of people are shouting, thunder rumbles in his ears, it's their boots hitting the dirt field around them.

"Maly! Maly, can you hear me?"

Hasmal nods feverishly, looking up to the voice, he knows that voice, that voice will make it all better. "Puri! Puri, it hurts! It hurts really bad!"

"I'm sure it does, baby dragon, we all heard the crack, let's get you to the Infirmary and—"

"No!" He cuts him off, curling his fingers into the grass under him. "No! You! I want you!"

Puriel stares at him. "Me?" He purses his lips but nods. "Alright, that's alright, we can manage." He gestures over his shoulder and another steps forward, kneeling at his side, waiting for his instruction. "We have to get him upstairs, take his other side, be as mindful of his leg as you can be."

"Got it," Abraxos nods, standing up, crossing over to his other side, and together the medic and his mentor carefully lift him off the ground. He cries out again, his fingers curling into their shoulders deeply, as his leg is jostled lightly. "Come on, easy does it, easy, easy." Puriel guides them around, towards the underside of the Pavilion, towards the stairs, and they take them one at a time, the others watch them go, and turn back to continue on with their duties, they know crowding around him could only make it worse right now, they can see to him later, after things were taken care of.

They slowly crest the final stair, tears stream down his face in waves, and they hobble slowly through the Lounge to the hall, down the hall to the medic's room, Hamon following behind them dutifully, wanting to be as close to his boy as he can be.

The three of them stop just beside the bottom edge of his bed, turn around slightly, and he looks down when he feels a hand fiddling with the button on his trousers. "Let's get you out of these." Puriel manages to get the button undone and they shimmy his trousers down, sitting him on the edge of the bed, Abraxos kneels to carefully pulls the pant legs off. Puriel scoots him back, as gently as he can, lifting his leg up so his mentor can slide a pillow underneath.

Puriel frowns when he sees what they're working with, a portion, the tip, of the broken bone splits through the skin, that's undoubtedly the worst of it. He leaves them for a moment to get the supplies he knows he's going to need right at the start, he'll get his supplies as he needs them. Pulling on a pair of sterilized gloves, he reaches first for a shot, uncapping the needle, he looks to his mentor quickly. Abraxos nods, he knows the medic's little dragon well, and sits next to the young Returned, taking his right hand tightly, squeezing, pressing his lips to his knuckles. Hasmal clutches to his hand when he sees the medic turn towards his leg, watching as the needle gets closer and closer to the skin, he feels light headed, his tongue feels heavy and thick, and he tugs on Abraxos' hand quickly. "Abe! Abe I don't feel so good."

"Lay down, lay down, little fire breather, you don't need to watch."

Hasmal passes out at the sight of needles, surgical needles, shots, anything that's purposefully going to jab into him, he takes one look, and he's a goner.

Abraxos helps him back, pulling one of the medic's pillows down to rest under his head, and he lays down with him, squeezing his hand firmly. "Squeeze when it hurts."

He nods, feeling a bit woozy, squeaking when he feels the pinch of the needle sliding in, squeezing the older Power's hand tightly.

"Hold him down, Abe, I'm going to set the bone."

The medic's mentor nods, pressing his hand over the youngest angel's chest, holding him down, squeezing his fingers tightly. Hasmal's eyes widen, his leg is slightly number, it's not as bad as he knows it could have been, but it doesn't stop him from screaming when he yanks on both sides of his leg, he feels the bone jolt back, slide back under the skin. He jolts, nearly jumping away, screaming in agony, and a heavy type of sobbing erupts from him then, his chest heaving as the pain overcomes him, like every nerve ending is lit aflame. He reaches for his mentor, his hand shaking, he wants Puri, he'd make him feel better, Abe was nice, but he wants Puri.

"Just a few more minutes, baby dragon, then I'll hold you."

The Power sitting next to him coos softly down at him, rubbing his cheeks with the hankie he keeps in his pocket, the tears fall faster then he can clean them up, but that doesn't stop him from trying.

"This is going to sting a bit, Maly, I'm so sorry." He shakes his head, crying out as he tries to jerk his leg away and pain radiates back up his leg. Puriel catches his ankle lightly and holds him in place. "I know, I know baby dragon, I'll try and be as quick as possible." He pours a bit of antiseptic solution onto a rag and reaches down to dab at his leg gently, Hasmal cries out, jerking his leg, and then cries out again because of the pain that came from jerking his leg. "I'm almost done, baby dragon, almost done." He tosses the rag aside, over his shoulder onto his desk, and reaches for the braces, securing them around the backside of his leg, he reaches for the bandages, wrapping his leg once, firmly, and then twice, just for good measure. "Okay, Abe, trade places with me."

The older Power nods, kissing his knuckles one last time, he lets go of his hand and pushes himself up. He reaches out for his mentor as he comes around the other side of the bed, Puriel coos down at him softly, climbing up behind him, above his head, and reaches down to curl his fingers under his arms. "Lift his leg." Abraxos nods, lifting his leg up carefully, it doesn't bend in the slightest, and follows him forward as he scoots backwards against his pillows, pulling his young Elect back with him. He settles him back against his front, situated between his legs. Abraxos moves the pillow back up under his leg. "I'll get a blanket."

"Thanks." He turns his attention down to his baby dragon, reaching over for the hankie resting on his nightstand, he coos down at him again, urging him to calm down softly, wiping at his cheeks gently. "Sshhh, I'm sorry, sshhh, it's alright, sshhh, you're okay."

Abraxos shakes a blanket out and covers them with it, mindful of the young angel's leg, and pinches at his toes softly until he gives a soft watery giggle and those toes start to wiggle under his fingers. "There we are, that's much better." He sits at his side, holding out two pills for him to take. "Here, down these." And passes him the a glass of water when he plops the two capsules in his mouth, and he takes a sip, swallowing them with a soft gulp. "Those'll help with the pain."

Puriel curls his arms around the boy and Hasmal reaches up to curl his fingers around his forearms, holding on tightly, squeezing firmly, wanting to hold on for dear life. "It's okay, it'll take hold in a few minutes, you just relax and focus on your breathing. In and out, in and out. There you go."

He nods, settling back against him, taking a deep breath, focusing on staying calm.

The older Power stands for a moment, returning with a damp cool rag, and dabs at his forehead. "You're still a bit on the paler side, fire breather."

"I'm surprised he didn't pass out."

Hasmal smiles slightly, looking up at his mentor as much as he can. "I'm tough like you, Puri."

His mentor chuckles softly, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek. "You're even more tough then I am, baby dragon." He looks up to his mentor. "Abe, can you get him some orange juice?"

Abraxos nods lightly, passing him the cool rag, and pushes himself up to his feet. "I'll be right back."

They both watching him go, and the medic looks down at his boy, rubbing his cheeks with the rag. "Feel better?"

Hasmal sniffles softly. "My leg still hurts a bit."

He kisses him on the head lightly. "I'm afraid it's going to be a bit sore for a bit, but it'll fade soon enough."

"Here we are," Abraxos returns soon after, a small glass of orange juice in his right hand, and he returns to his perch on the side of the bed, holding it up to the youngest angel's lips. "Take a few small sips." He nods and takes three small sips. "There you go, all better, we'll set this here." He leans over to set the glass on the nightstand. "Tus is making dinner tonight; he's making your favorite dish of his."

"Meatloaf and buttery chunkie potatoes?"

"And, cheesy broccoli?" The older Power nods. "You betcha, and Nis is making his famous cherry pie for dessert, all your favorites."

They both smile when the boy hums in delight, licking his lips lightly. "Yumm."

"I thought you'd like that." He leans forward, scratching his cheek with a finger lightly. "Now, you take it easy, no rough movements, and relax here with Puri, we'll take care of everything."

Hasmal nods, pressing himself down more fully against his mentor, and Puriel squeezes him gently. "Okay, Abby."

"Good boy."


	334. Returning What Was Lost

"Father, you asked to see me?"

"Yes," the tall Man turns at the sound of his voice, gesturing for him to come forward, and Abraxos steps into the Throne Room, draping the extra cloak over his arm, having brought it just like he was told to, he didn't understand, he'd understood bringing his own, it was pouring, and no one wanted to get caught in that chilly rain unawares. He couldn't wait to get back to his room, with his warm mug of tea waiting, his fireplace blazing warmly, and the extra blankets pulled back waiting for him to slide in, and his favorite book resting on the nightstand waiting to be read again. "Come in, Abraxos, just a moment longer, you brought the extra cloak, good, very good, you're going to need it."

"Father, I don't understand."

"All in due time, son, all in due time, just another minute, if you please."

"Of course, Father, there's no rush."

"I appreciate your patience, son, these things take delicate care."

"Dad?" A soft voice interrupts the silence that had fallen over them, and his eyes widen, he knows that voice, it had been so _long _since he last heard that voice. "Dad, is that Abe? Is Abe here?" He steps forward as his Father chuckles, he needs to see for himself, to make sure this wasn't some cruel trick of the mind, his Father has a great sense of humor, but he doesn't think He could be that cruel. "I really miss him, Dad."

"He really misses you too, son." Father leans over to kiss someone on the head. "I think you'll be happy with who I've asked to join us, then." He steps aside, and that's when he sees them, those honey colored eyes stare back at him, and he stares right back at them in turn, he's not sure of which words to use, and, as it seems, neither does the other. Father steps out of the way, to give them their privacy, and he steps forward, tossing the extra cloak down to rest on the table next to them younger angel. "Chayyliel?"

"Abe?" Those honey colored eyes still stare up at him, wide and unsure. "Abe, is it really you?"

"It's me, Chayy, it's really me," he reaches out for the boy, he can't hold himself back any longer, he needs to know he's real, that this isn't some trick, that he's really back, like Puri had Maly back. "Is it you, is it really my littlest Elect?"

"Abe!" Chayyliel throws himself forward, and he catches the younger angel as he falls off the table, curling him tightly in his arms, spinning him around gently. "I've missed you, little chameleon, I've missed you so much."

The young Returned curls around him tightly. "I thought I'd never see you again, Abe, I thought…..I thought….It was so dark and scary! I thought I'd never see you again!"

"I'm never letting you go again, Chayy, never." He hugs himself around the boy as much as he can, clutching to him just as tightly as the boy clutches onto him. "I've missed you so much." He pulls back slightly, cradling his cheeks with his fingers, looking back into those honey colored eyes. "I've missed you _so _much, my little chameleon, with all my heart."

"Abe, you look so different now, everything is so different!"

"In appearance only, I'm sure you'll come to find I'm still as you remember me, just like the others are." He leans in, pressing their foreheads together. "The only change is our appearance."

Chayyliel looks him in the eyes, staring, smiling brightly, and he smiles back, rubbing their noses together. "Abe, am I coming back with you?"

They both turn to their Father, and He chuckles, nodding His head. "I planned on you taking him back. Make sure to bundle him up securely. The last thing we want is him catching a cold on his way back home."

Abraxos nods, smiling at his Father, and then turns back to smile at his young Returned elect. "You're coming back with me. You'll sleep with me tonight, for the next nights, until you're ready to go back to your own room."

"I—I don't know, Abe, I don't want to be alone."

"You can stay with me for as long as you need to, I would never turn you away, my bed is your bed too. You sleep with me for as long as you need." He cradles his cheeks again. "If that means you sleep with me for the next year, then I'll take the left side of the bed, and you can cuddle up on the right." Abraxos reaches for the extra cloak he's tossed next to the younger angel on the bed, shakes it out, and curls it around his shoulders, fastening it at the neck. "I've got the fire going, and extra blankets, my rooms nice and warm, I'll make you a mug of warm apple cider, your favorite, and we cuddle on down together, just you and me." He pulls the hood up over his curls. "I'm never letting you out of my sight ever again."

Chayyliel smiles up at him from under the hood, the cloak is one of his own, meaning it dwarfs the boy in size, it's nearly below his knees.

He pulls his hood back up, returning the boy's smile, and reaches down, curling his fingers around the boy's ribs. "Hop up." Chayyliel hops slightly, and he grunts softly as he lifts him up, off his feet, and into his arms. The younger angel curls his legs around his waist, and he curls his arms under his bottom, as the youth curls his arms around his neck, and rests his head on his shoulder.

Father smiles at them as he turns to face Him, His eyes twinkling, He loves watching His children reunite again. It always makes His heart swell with joy. "Thank you, Father."

"No thanks is necessary; I'm only doing what is deserved."

He smiles at his Father, and turns, his boots thumping against the soft granite gently. Chayyliel presses into the side of his neck, his chin resting on his shoulder, and he steps out from under the awning, rain pelting their heads as he makes his way down the steps. The boy's legs would be soaked by the time they got back, but at least it wasn't all of him, their cloaks were water proof and warm, he'd be dry, for the most part.

Chayyliel lifts his head slightly to look around at their darkened home. Candles flicker in windows of different homes, cottages, and cabins. In some, he can see the roaring fireplaces heating the inside, the smoke coming out of the chimney on the roof. He looks up to the left, seeing the entrance to the Infirmary, he catches a glimpse of emerald green and he smiles, reaching up to wave slightly, it's too dark to see if anyone waves back, but the emerald green winks at him and disappears. He looks to the right, as they pass the Choir Pantheon, the great lanterns that hang under the awning glow in the darkness, candles are in the windows.

His feet are cold by the time they make it to the training field, Abraxos' boots squelch into the muddy path as they step into puddles and thick cakes of thick mud, the rain stops pelting at his hood when they step up under the awning, and he looks up again as they start the incline up the stairs to the Pavilion. He's home, he's finally home, back with his mentor and brothers. He's home. He's back. He's with Abe. Right where he belongs.

The Lounge is empty when they finally crest the last stair, and so is the kitchen, but he can hear activity in the hall. They're all in their rooms, he doesn't know if he's ready to see them all just yet, he'd a bit overwhelmed still, and he knows that Abe knows that.

They turn into the third door on the right side, and Abraxos closes the door softly with his heel, and steps into the room.

It's nice and warm, the rain pelts against the window panes heavily, and the fire crackles as it burns. He carries him over to set him down on the edge of the bed, and kneels, reaching for his feet. "Your feet are freezing, Chameleon, absolutely frozen." He curls each foot inside his cloak, drying them off, and stands, reaching out to unclasp the cloak from around his neck, turning to hang both his and his own on the hooks next to the wardrobe, before the fireplace, to dry, and reaches into his wardrobe for a pair of thick socks.

He returns to his side and kneels. "Here we go, put your feet in these."

Chayyliel slips his feet into the thick wool socks, and Abraxos turns, leaning over to untie his boots, kicking them off next to his wardrobe.

"Abe?"

"I'm coming, Chayy, I'm coming." The Power turns back towards him, gesturing to the blankets, and he smiles, taking that as his order to climb under them, and he does, crawling up to the head of the big bed and crawls under the blankets, peeking out from under them as he watches his mentor mop up the muddy boot prints on the floor, so they don't slip on them if they were to get up in the middle of the night for the restroom or to get a drink.

Then he returns to his side, climbing in under the blankets next to him, and he turns onto his side for a moment, reaching out for the younger angel. Chayyliel slides up between his arms and presses himself close, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, the warmth of his person, taking in the scent that he'd missed for so long. Fingers thread between the curls on the back of his head as arms curl around him, rubbing in gently, and he curls his fingers into the front of his night shift.

"I missed you so much, Chayy, so very much." He presses a kiss to his forehead. "I'm so happy to have you back, so happy, I can't even begin to express it with words."

"I missed you too, Abe, I missed you with everything I had." Chayyliel burrows into his chest. "You're all I thought about. You're what kept me going. I knew someday I'd be back. I knew Father wouldn't abandon us there. I knew it." He pulls back slightly, pressing his forehead to his mentor's, staring him in the eyes. "I knew it, Abe."

Abraxos smiles at him softly. "I never gave out on hope either, Chameleon, never, I knew I'd see you again. I never lost hope of that." He rubs their noses together. "Are you sleepy?"

The young Returned elect nods slightly. "Yes, but I don't want to go to sleep yet."

"I understand," the Power turns around slightly, resting back against the pillows lightly, the younger angel laying over his belly gently. "I'm going to read a bit, I'll read to you, and if you happen to fall asleep then, you'll fall asleep in my arms, alright?"

He smiles, letting his eyes close gently. "Okay, Abe."


	335. The Church Mouse's Fears

"Get them off!" The shout echoes from down the hall, and he looks up from the file he's writing in at the suddenness of it, waiting to see if anything follows, any direction, any declaration of what _'them' _were. "_Get them off!" _He sets his pen down at the second shout, pushing his chair back, intending to see what the ruckus was, when a scream cuts through the air and that has him running, jumping out from behind his desk, rushing to the doorway, eyes scanning for the source.

It's odd seeing him in his humanoid form, he spends so much time as a puppy, he nearly forgets he's not truly _just _a puppy sometimes. Qaspiel scratches at his neck violently, evading the hands that try to grab him, screaming when hands curl around his shoulders, he curls his hands around his neck and ducks in on himself, curling inwards, a whole-body flinch, his form jolts. Sabaoth shoves Osmadiel away, and the younger guard holds up his hands defensively, backing up a step.

He knew what was wrong, he knew right away, someone had touched his neck, he didn't let anyone touch his neck, save for Titus. He wasn't sure the others knew of his time in captivity, but he did, Titus had told him when he'd agreed to take him as one of his guards, as a forewarning, never to touch his neck unless he expressed that you could.

Thaddeus pushes himself into action, turning for the small table sitting next to the doorway, dipping a rag into the basin of cool water, he turns back, darting down the hall towards them. Qaspiel's shaking, as rigid as stone, just one large tense muscle. "Get away, get back, back up." Sabaoth and Osmadiel jump back at his barking orders, turning to stare at him as he rushes forward, and he ignores them for a moment. "Qasp, Qasp, can you hear me?"

Bright fearful eyes flit up to him, his scratching comes to a still on his neck, hands shaking slightly from the nerves overwhelming his body. "T—Thaddy?"

"I'm here, Qasp, you're alright, you're here, in the Prison, with me, and Saba, and Os, you're here. Focus on me. Focus on my voice."

"Thaddy, get them off, Thaddy!" He begins scratching at his neck again. "They hurt! They _burn_! Get them out! Get them off!"

"No, no, they're just scars now, just scars." He steps forward. "Let me help you, can I touch you, can I help you?"

Qaspiel nods, after a moment of hesitation, and the Warden steps forward, reaching for his hands. "Lower your hands, puppy, lower them for me." Qaspiel shakes his head feverishly and he touches the backs of his hands gently. "Lower your hands, Qaspi, can you do that for me?" The guard hesitates, his fingers shaking from the strain, but he nods, slowly lowering his hands away from his scarred neck. "Okay, good puppy, good boy, I'm going to rub something cool over your neck, so it stops burning, alright?" Qaspiel nods again, stepping closer at the promise of making the burning stop, and he reaches up with the cool wet rag, rubbing at his neck gently, starting under his right ear and rubbing down under his chin, and up under his left ear, then back around back under his right ear. "See, nice and cool, right?"

"Mhmm….feels better….cool not hot…."

"It is, isn't it?" He tugs on the front of his vest lightly. "Come here, Qaspi, come here, I'll hold you nice and firm." He curls the cool rag around the back of his neck and tugs him closer, curling him in his arms firmly, Qaspiel curls around him, pressing his forehead to his shoulder, curling his fingers into the back of his tunic. Thaddeus holds him close and firm, curling his left hand around the rag on the back of his neck, looking up between his two younger brothers. "Who touched him on the neck?"

Osmadiel and Sabaoth exchange looks, and the younger of the two raises his hand slightly, looking unsure as to what the problem was. "I did."

He turns a firm look over on the younger guard. "Don't _ever _touch his neck without his permission. _Ever_."

"Thaddy, all he did was pinch him lightly, he didn't do anything to hurt him."

"I know he didn't, Saba, I know Os wouldn't intentionally do anything to harm anyone." He rubs his fingers through the curls on the back of the angel hounds head. "What do you two know about his first excursion down on Earth?"

They exchange looks and shrug, shaking their heads, they didn't really understand the importance to that particular thing, they all had their first trips down to Earth when the graduated, it was nothing too grand or special.

Thaddeus nods lightly. "He was taken prisoner."

"_What?"_

He elaborates. "Titus took him down to Earth with him during a simple recon mission, he hadn't thought anything of it, they weren't going to be anywhere near the fighting. They were ambushed, Sablo and him were taken, they were held captive for some time, they carved runes into his neck, dampening runes, to keep him at his weakest, they were carved rather deeply." He rubs his fingers lightly over the rag curled around the back of the guards neck. "He's very sensitive about people touching his neck now, unless he expresses his permission, you don't touch it."

"Wow." Osmadiel rubs at his lips lightly, absorbing the information, he hadn't ever suspected. "I didn't even know." Sabaoth nods in agreement, staring at the back of the younger guards head with wide eyes, Qaspiel inhales deeply, and Thaddeus adjusts his grip when he starts to change forms, whining as a puppy, he curls into his chest. He jerks his head in the direction of his office. "Come on, he needs to know he can trust you."

They nod, following after him when he turns back in the direction of his office, holding the fluffy puppy close, scratching a finger behind it's ear. He steps into his office and jerks his head down to the large dog bed under the window, a nice breeze flows in from outside, there's rain in the air, the sky was just waiting to open up. "You two, turn, lay on the bed."

Both guards nod, changing forms mid step, and trot the rest of the way to the fluffy dog bed, spinning in a small circle, they lay down together, and he steps forward, leaning over to set the puppy between the two larger hounds. "Take good care of him guys." The both bark up at him, Qaspiel barks softly, looking up at the two older hounds, Osmadiel barks softly in return, nuzzling the side of his head with his snout, and Sabaoth croons softly, licking at the top of his head, nudging his neck with his nose, the puppy whines softy but lays over rolling over onto his side, laying over the two hounds front legs, and Sabaoth licks down the side of his neck. He licks up, over his ears, then back down his neck, nuzzling his head against the soft fur. The other older hound barks softly, poking his nose over the side of the young pup's belly, Qaspiel barks brightly, turning over onto his back, Sabaoth growls softly and Osmadiel barks contentedly, and they both go after his belly. Sabaoth licks over his spot, poking his nose in playfully, and Osmadiel nibbles and licks at his, driving the puppy crazy. He rolls around on his back, squirming and wiggling from side to side, his little tail wagging at a steady gate, barking and shrieking brightly.

Thaddeus smiles to himself, nodding lightly, and turns away, heading back to his desk. His pup is in good hands.


	336. The Warden's Ire

He's resting back in his desk chair, his arm curled upwards on the armrest, rubbing at his lips with his left index finger, when the knock on his office door alerts the arrival of the guard he'd sent to retrieve the boy in question, and he thought to himself the cause for such an outrageous explosion of the boy's well kept temper.

"Come in."

The door handle twists open, and the guard steps in, guiding the boy in question inside before him, he comes to a stop before his desk, and he hums softly, letting his curled arm stretch out, as he nods to the guard. "Thank Chasper, that'll be all."

His guard nods, leaving the boy where he stands, and turns on his heel to make his leave, closing the door behind him softly, leaving only Warden and boy alone together. Thaddeus taps his finger over the top of his desk as the boy fiddles with his fingers, looking down to his feet, it appears he knows his being called here was not for a pleasure trip, he knew he was in trouble, good, that made his job easier.

"You want to explain yourself to me?"

The boy bites his lip, shaking his head quickly, curling his fingers in the bottom hem of his tunic.

"Zander, look at me."

The boy's head shoots up, his golden eyes staring at him, and he bites his lip.

Thaddeus stares at him in return. "Want to explain to me why I was informed of you spilling the contents of your dinner tray over someone else's head on _purpose_?"

Zander shakes his head, biting his lip harder, and looks back down to his feet.

"Eyes on me, Zander." His head zips back up and their eyes meet once more, the Warden tilts his head, waving a few fingers at him. "You bite your lip any harder and you'll draw blood."

He sighs deeply, closing his eyes lightly as he shakes his head, leaning forward in his seat. "Zander, such behavior is unlike you, what happened?"

Taking a deep breath, Zander fiddles with his fingers, and shuffles his feet. "They were being mean."

"So you thought, what, instead of telling one of the guards you were being bullied, that you'd take matters into your own hands?"

Zander takes a moment, before he nods. "Mhmm."

"Right, well, I will deal with this bullying separately, but first I deal with you."

"D—Deal with me?"

Thaddeus nods, scooting his chair back, he waves the boy forward. "Come on, let's get this over with."

The boy takes a step back, his hands flying backwards to cover his bottom, he knows what that particular hand gesture means. "Thaddy, please, they were being mean!"

"I understand that, Zander, but that does not give you the right to spill the whole contents of your tray over their head, it's a waste of food, a waste of the cooks time, and makes you a bully right along with them, and I won't have bullies in my Prison." He waves him forward again, turning his chair around slightly. "Come on, Zan, the sooner we begin, the sooner we end."

Zander gulps softly. "Will you hold me after?"

"I will, I won't let your feet hit the ground for even a moment."

"Promise not to be too mean?"

"I'm never firmer then I have to be."

Zander nods lightly, he doesn't like it, but the alternative is Thaddy getting out of his chair to come and get him himself, and no one wants Thaddy to get up out of his chair and come get you himself, that means you're in deeper trouble then you already were, and that was no fun, none at all. He steps forward, slowly, but Thaddy is patient, and eventually comes around the edge of the desk.

Thaddeus reaches forward, curling his fingers around the hem of his trousers, pulling the button free, he shimmies his pants down slightly, and turns around more fully.

He pats his right thigh. "Lay on over."

The boy whines softly, but nods, leaning over to drape himself over the older angel's knee. He braces his hands against the stone floor, curling the fingers of his right hand over the front of the Warden's boot, and he waits tensely for what he knows is about to come, bracing himself for it, trying to just focus on what's going to come afterwards, not about what's going to come before then, or how much it's going to hurt, or how red his bottom is going to be, he just tries to focus on what's going to come once they get passed it.

He tenses when he feels a palm press over his left cheek, preparing himself for the first blow, he clenches his eyes closed as he waits, and then the hand pulls back, it takes a moment, there's a moment before it returns, and he yelps, bouncing forward when the hand strikes down again, harshly, he knows it leaves a red hand print over is pale cheek, and he bounces again when the next strike follows, one right after another, and he squirms, crying out softly, he feels warm tears sting his eyes, and then they trail down his cheeks.

"T—Thaddy! I—I'm sorry!"

"I know you are, Zan, I know, and I'm sorry you didn't think you could come to me for help."

There's fifteen swats, and by the end, he's sobbing like a chastised fledgling. He's helped to his feet, and he bounces, rubbing at his bottom lightly, moving his hands for only a moment as the Warden pulls his trousers back in place and buttons them back up.

"There we are, all done, everything's forgiven." He rubs at his eyes pitifully, his chest heaving with another sob, and Thaddeus smiles up at him softly, reaching back out for him. "Come here, come to Thaddy, come here." He pulls him back down into his lap, making sure to position his bottom between his legs, and curls his arms around his waist as he turns back around to face his desk. Zander buries his face in the side of the Warden's neck, and Thaddeus hums softly, rubbing at his back gently. "Shh, shh, it's alright, it wasn't too bad.

He whimpers softly, rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand. "E—Easy for you t—to say."

"Hey, having to take you guys over my knee isn't as easy for me as you think it is." He rubs at his back soothingly, reaching into his pocket for his hankie, and fishes it out to clean him up a bit. "Especially for the ones I'm rather fond of, and you, I'm particularly fond of you."

Zander giggles softly, a watery shaky giggle, and he rubs at his nose again. "I—I'm particularly f-fond of you too."

"You are?" Thaddeus chuckles softly. "That warms my heart." He leans in, brushing his nose over the young prisoner's cheek, pressing a kiss over the warm damp skin. "Just how fond of me are you?"

"I..I really love you."

"I really love you too, Zan." He leans up to kiss his cheek again. "I'm going to be keeping my eye on you, even after you go, to make sure you stay out of trouble."

"Me, get in trouble?" He giggles again. "I'm a little angel."

"Pun intended?"

He giggles again. "Pun intended."


	337. Weight Of The World

**Chayyliel**

**_Hasmal_**

It was usually just the two of them, and Hamon, sitting together watching as their older brothers worked out in the training field, they rarely saw Nisroc these days, they'd just taken a new load of inductees, and he was swamped with paperwork. They'd watch them from above, they were like ants from their vantage point, perhaps not ants, they were a bit bigger then ants, but they were small, it was like watching the training field with a birds eye view.

Today it was raining, a thunderstorm, meaning training had been cut short, they'll train through any weather except a thunderstorm, they were not that stupid, to be standing out the middle of an open field holding and waving metal swords around. Usually, thunderstorms were when they had their lessons, but they'd decided to give them all a long weekend, retreating to their rooms to complete menial tasks; laundry, lesson plans, grading papers, training schedules, everything in the like.

They stayed out in the Lounge, Hamon sitting between them, watching the lightning illuminate the sky above, as rain drops pelted the window panes before their eyes.

"Do you remember….."

He nods. "I remember."

Silence falls over them, Hamon whines softly from between them, he can feel the tension growing. It wasn't a heated tension, there was no anger between them, they were good friends, it was a melancholic tension, as their minds wandered back, as they shared secrets in simple words that the others would never understand. Hamon's tried to understand them, tried to get the gist of them without having to as for them to divulge more then they wanted to, but even he had trouble, what little was spoken about that time was very cryptic.

Chayyliel looks away from the storm raging outside, and over to his friend, petting Hamon's head lightly as he did. "Let's play something."

"Play something?" Hasmal looks over to him in turn, tilting his head slightly as he reaches out to tug lightly at the service hound's tail, Hamon barks and turns to nip at his fingers. "Like what?"

"I don't know, Maly, something, something to fill in the silence."

"It's hardly silent, the thunder shakes the window panes it's so loud."

His friend gives him a dull look. "You know what I mean."

"I know." Hasmal smirks lightly, pushing himself to his feet, brushing his hands off on his pants. "Did you write something new?"

"I did, I wanna see how it sounds."

"Okay, I'm down." Hamon follows the fire bender as he crosses over to the piano, jumping up to sit next to him on the bench as he sits down, as they usually do, Hamon always sits at his side when he plays. "Do you have it?"

"Yea," Chayyliel fishes between two pillows and pulls out his old leather journal, opening it to his latest creation, he sets it down for the fire bender to see, pointing to the italicized parts. "This is your part."

"Got it."

He waits for Chayyliel to lead them, and sits patiently, readying his fingers in the places that the notes guide him to, and the old guitar hums as his friend strums the cords, and then he joins in, at the twelfth note, and his eyes skim over the words.

**_'Feel the weight of the world_**

**_Over me, tonight_**

**_If I break, if I break down this time_**

**_Hope you know I tried'_**

Chayyliel takes a deep breath, adjusting his fingers over the cords, keeping the melody going. Hasmal nods his head to the beat, Hamon sits beside him silently, tongue hanging out of his mouth, listening intently to their message.

**'My mind's such a mess**

**I can't handle it**

**I'm at the end of my rope**

**I'm so sick of this**

**Just so over it**

**Why won't you let me let go'**

He leans over to get the farther key, his fingers gliding over the white tiles, keeping in time with his friend.

**_'My neck is breaking, body shaking_**

**_Sometimes it's so hard to breathe_**

**_But no one sees it follows me_**

**_I always end up underneath_**

**_The weight of the world'_**

Hasmal focuses on the keys under his fingers, Chayyliel focuses on the cords he's strumming, Hamon sees the movement out of the corner of his eye and looks up, watching another press a finger to their lips, not wanting to interrupt their duet.

**'I don't like, like myself very much**

**Despite all your kind words**

**Can't explain why I'm hurting myself**

**But it feels deserved'**

Hamon stares at their one person audience before looking back down to watch his charge's fingers dance over the ivory keys. Hasmal and Chayyliel are none the wiser, and that's what's best, they'd stop if they knew someone else was watching them play, hearing their secret message.

**_'My mind's such a mess_**

**_I can't handle it_**

**_I'm at the end of my rope_**

**_I'm so sick of this_**

**_I'm so over it_**

**_Why won't you let me let go'_**

The weapons dealer moves his fingers up the cords, creating a new pitch, and follows after in time, in step, following the beat.

**'My neck is breaking, body shaking**

**Sometimes it's so hard to breathe**

**But no one sees it follows me**

**I always end up underneath'**

The fire bender reads ahead in the weapons dealer's book, keeping up with his part.

**_'These thoughts won't rest_**

**_I can't forgive_**

**_I overthink until I'm sick_**

**_I'm too damn tired_**

**_Too worn to fight_**

**_I don't feel strong enough_**

**_To leave on the light_**

**_To leave on the light'_**

They harmonize together beautifully, Hasmal's voice was lighter, where Chayyliel's was deeper, they fit together like a puzzle.

**'My neck is breaking, body shaking**

**Sometimes it's so hard to breathe**

**But no one sees it follows me**

**I always end up underneath**

**The weight of the world'**

His fingers stop strumming as he lets his friend finish them out, the soft tones of the piano filling in under the rumble of the thunder.

**_'The weight of the world_**

**_Weight of the world_**

**_Feel the weight of the world_**

**_Over me tonight'_**

They both jump when they hear the clapping, they know it's not Hamon, a hound can't clap, and they both turn around to face the source. Nisroc smiles at them, they hadn't even known he'd left his office, let alone made his way upstairs to his room.

"You two are truly amazing, you should speak with Lucifer, he'd sure be glad to have a talent such as yours helping him write."

Chayyliel tucks a curl behind his ear. "It's not _that _good."

"Nonsense, you two are amazing." He pushes away from the wall, crossing silently to the icebox, and pulls the door open. "That one was particularly saddening though." He pulls out a bottle of juice and takes a sip, closing the icebox behind him. "Is everything alright?"

The weapons dealer nods lightly. "It's okay."

Nisroc hums knowingly, as though he doesn't believe that. "You should go see Abe, Chayy, he'll make you feel better."


	338. Welcome Wake Up Call

"Chayy…" He feels something stroke down the bridge of his nose and he scrunches his nose up at the feeling. "…Chayy…..It's time to wake up….." He hums and turns his head away from the thing stroking down his nose. "…Chayy…..Chayy…..Wakey wakey…."

He turns his head the other way and groans, bating weakly at the offending object. "Mmm…Abe…..stop….sleepin….."

"I know you're sleeping." The thing stroking his nose returns and he whines, batting at it again. "It's time to wake up."

Chayyliel blinks his eyes open, expecting to be overwhelmed by the bright light of the sun, but his eyes pick up the lack of it immediately, and he stares out into the storm clouds, watching lightning flash across the sky from behind the rain drops streaming down the window panes, thunder rumbles and he turns, looking up at his mentor. Abraxos smiles down at him, stroking his finger down the bridge of his nose again, and he smiles up at him in return. "Good morning, chameleon."

"Mmm, good morning, Abe." He rubs at his eyes lightly with a fist and nods back down over the second oldest Power's chest, sighing sleepily. "Abe, it's thunder storming, why can't I sleep in some more, I'm sleepy."

The chest he lays on rumbles softly as his mentor chuckles softly, scratching at the back of his head lightly. "Still sleepy, huh?"

"Mhmm, really sleepy."

Abraxos hums softly. "And, cozy?"

"Mmm, very cozy."

He hears the door open as he settles back down. "Well, if you're sleeping, I guess you won't want these fresh warm hotcakes, with butter and fresh maple syrup, and this cool glass of milk." His eyes shoot open, and he sits up, turning away from the man he's resting against, and Puriel smiles at him, holding up a tray in his hands. "I thought, since you were so tired this morning and missed breakfast, there was nothing better than breakfast in bed."

"_Your _special _banana and chocolate chip _hotcakes?"

"What else would I make for my _favorite _baby brother?"

"Gimme!" Chayyliel sits up, turning around between Abraxos' legs, and leans back against his chest instead, sleep forgotten in the wake of such a tasty meal. "Gimme! Gimme!"

Abraxos chuckles behind him, curling his arms around his waist as his older mentee sets the tray down of their younger's lap, and Chayyliel snatches up the fork quickly, picking up a bit sized piece of the precut hotcake and plops it in his mouth, humming in delight, closing his eyes as he falls back dramatically against his mentor behind him.

The medic chuckles, crossing his arms loosely. "That good, huh?"

"Heavenly. Absolutely Heavenly." He takes another bite, moaning dramatically, and his mentor chuckles from behind him, reaching around to wipe up a drop of syrup from his chin, and licks it off his finger. "I missed these so much."

"Well, I'm happy to make them for you whenever you like, just ask."

Chayyliel stuffs another two pieces into his mouth, chews, and swallows. "For lunch _and _dinner?"

Puriel chuckles softly, fondly, nodding lightly in amusement. "Sure, if you want."

"I want!" He takes another bite. "I want!"


	339. Soothing The Tension

"Chayy, you look as tense as a rock." He finishes taking his sip of juice and sets the glass down, turning to look at his older brother, and nods lightly. "I don't know what it is, Puri, I just…..I tried meditating…..I just can't calm down."

"I get it, I have those days too." Puriel sets his mug down and reaches out for his shoulders, squeezing them comfortingly. "I know just the thing." Chayyliel nods, letting him guide him around, walking him out of the kitchen and down the hall to his room, right across from Abe's, turning him inside. "Take your top off and lay down on the bed, on your belly, let me prepare a few things." Chayyliel nods again, stepping forward, out from under his fingers, and tugs his tunic up over his head, tossing it on the floor as he climbs up over the foot of the older angel's bed, collapsing down over his pillow, inhaling deeply, taking in his scent, it's a sweet scent, like cookies, or cake, it makes sense, Puri's quite the baker.

He turns his head, watching his older brother move about his room, humming to himself. He lights a few candles, burns a few incenses, they smell like cinnamon, pulls the curtains closed, the thunder rumbles out the window but he doesn't see the flash of lightning. Puriel stokes the fire, heating the room up to a nice toasty comfort level, he closes his eyes as he returns to his side, pulling the blankets up over his waist. He feels the bed dip as his older brother climbs up, his knees pressing lightly against his sides, he leans over, reaching for a small bottle on the nightstand and leans back into place, pouring a bit of the liquid into his left hand, he leans back over to put the bottle back on the nightstand, and returns to his upright position. "A nice back massage always calms the nerves."

The medic starts at his lower back, his fingers curling over his sides, digging his thumbs into his lower back, smooth little circles, and the younger angel groans softly, melting under his touch. He presses the heels of his palms in and pushes upwards slowly, kneading upwards gently, firmly, and the younger angel groans again, arching into his touch.

He chuckles softly. "Feel good?"

Chayyliel licks his lips. "SOoo good."

He smiles and looks down to his back. "Good." He presses the heels of his palms into his shoulders and curls his fingers around them, tugging back slightly, and Chayyliel groans again, rolling back with the pull. The younger angel inhales deeply, exhales equally as so, and melts into the bed under him as he rubs at his shoulders soothingly, squeezing and kneading and massaging. "Now you're starting to feel a bit like putty."

"Feels soo gooood."

"I'm glad." Puriel climbs off from over him and pulls the blankets up over the back of his neck, tucking him in tenderly. "Nice and warm?"

"Mmm, super cozy."

The medic sits on the edge of the bed and scratches lightly at the back of his head. "Sleepy?"

"Mhmmmm…..jus' a little….."

"Just a little?" Puriel smiles down at him, scratching a finger behind his ear. "What would make you a lot sleepy?"

The younger angel snuffles softly, nodding against the pillow under his head, and lifts his arm. "Cuddles."

"Aww." He coos softly, reaching forward to brush his finger over the youth's cheek. "Does the little chameleon want cuddles?"

Chayyliel nods lightly. "Mhmm….Puri cuddles…..Almost as good as Abe cuddles…."

"Nothing beats Abe's cuddles."

"Puri, cuddles?"

He chuckles softly, pushing the youth over as he climbs in under the blankets, then he pulls him close once more. "I'm always happy to give you cuddles."


	340. A Little Sleepaholic

"Has anyone see Chayyliel?"

Titus takes a sip from his coffee, gesturing to the Lounge, and the Captain turns to see what he was gesturing to. He smiles fondly, shaking his head, spotting the boy immediately.

Abraxos is reclining across one of the couches, his ankles crossed lightly on the other end of the couch and resting over his chest was the boy in question. Their fingers intertwined, Chayyliel has their hands curled up under his nose, breathing softly as he sleeps blissfully unaware of the world around him. The fingers of his mentor's other hand are tangled in the hair on the back of his head, scratching lightly at his scalp.

Nisroc shakes his head fondly. "I swear, those two are exactly alike.

"…Then that means he's perfect…."

"Oh, go to sleep, Abe."

…

"Okay, stab to the torso," he scoots back from the desk in his training squadron's barrack when he sees him enter from the corner of his eye. "What's our first step?" Medic training, his favorite, and that's not sarcasm.

Puriel doesn't so much as blink as he curls his fingers around the younger angel's ribs and tugs him down, the little thing straddling his was, bare feet dangling around behind him, his arms draping down his sides, and he tucks his head against his shoulder, he feels him take a deep breath and then his breathing evens out.

It's that easy.

The medic curls his arms around him lightly and scoots back to his desk, looking around them, undisturbed, as though his baby brother hadn't just interrupted his lesson, climbed into his lap, and fallen asleep. "Come on, someone knows the answer."

…

Chayyliel snuffles and he pulls the blanket around him more snugly, rubbing at his back soothingly, it was no fun whilst in the hold of a flu bug. He knows the boy would much rather be curled up around Abe and fast asleep, but, alas, Abraxos could not miss this day of training, and instead, he'd come to join him.

Nisroc didn't mind, he was used to working around persons resting in his lap, it was no hindrance, and he was rather warm, something to boy needed now more then ever, he needed all the warmth he could get right now.

The boy coughs wetly, rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand, the blanket curled up in his fist, and whines softly. "Wan' A'e…."

"I know you do, Chameleon, I know, he'll come get you as soon as he's done."

"….Wan' A'e n'w…."

"I know you do, I'm sorry, but I can't let him miss today." He rubs his back soothingly, rubbing his hand up to the back of his head, scratching his scalp lightly. "He can stay with you tomorrow." He leans around slightly, kissing the side of his head. "Why don't you take another nap, when you wake up, Abe'll have you."

"Mmm….Goo' I'ea…."

…

"Chayy, of all the places—" Titus gripes to himself as he pulls his desk chair back and kneels, tugging lightly on the edges of his cloak, and pulls the sleeping little Elect out from under his desk. Chayyliel mumbles softly and rubs his cheek over the back of his hand, his slumber undisturbed by the movement. "How did you fall asleep under here?"

The Power curls his fingers under the boy's arms and lifts him up like a rag doll, Chayyliel mumbles again, curling around his front when he pulls him in close. Titus sighs, guiding his legs around his waist, and curls an arm under his bottom, they were both so lucky that Chayyliel was so small.

He kisses the side of his head fondly. "Let's go make our rounds, Chameleon."

…

"Abe's here." He rubs at the back of the boy's head, both of them wrapped up in his blankets, Chayyliel wasn't having a good day. "Abe's got you." Chayyliel sniffles softly and cuddles closer, his fingers curled in the front of his shirt, he was grateful that the Commander had let him have the day off, his boy needed him more then his trainees did, Abraxos would drop everything for his boys. "It's alright."

"Promise not to let go?"

"Never, never ever." He rubs their cheeks together lightly. "I'll hold you for however long you need me to."

"Swear?"

"Swear."

Chayyliel sniffles softly once more. "Abe, will you sing me your lullaby?"

"Sure, little chameleon, settle on down and close your eyes."


	341. Cookies And Tummy Rubs

"Puri, pie?" Nisroc holds the spatula with the pie slice out to the medic, expecting him to holds his plate up, and he blinks in surprise when the younger Power shakes his head. "No, I'm good."

The medic stares down at his plate, those cruel words echoing in his head, he hasn't heard such words since he'd first been elected, and they still cut just as deep now as they had back then. He tried to ignore the feeling of eyes watching him, from his right and his left, across from him, he knew who they belonged to.

Nisroc eyes him for a moment. "Puri, it's cherry pie, with the crumbly topping, just the way you like it, your favorite, are you sure you don't want a piece?"

"I'm sure. I'm not all that hungry." He forces himself to yawn, he's not tired, he just doesn't want to be around all these watchful eyes. "I'm sleepy. I think I'm going to head to bed early tonight." He scoots his chair back, staring down at his lap, keeping his eyes averted from those trying to catch his attention, and stands, pushing his chair back in, he turns in the direction of the hall.

Hasmal watches his back until he disappears into his room and the door closes with a soft click, then turns his attention to his grandmentor, Abraxos takes a bite of the pie on his fork and hums, staring down the hall. "Abe, what's wrong with Puri?"

The older Power swallows his mouthful of pie and sets his fork down. "I have a pretty good idea." He pushes his own chair back, knowing he was needed elsewhere, and looks to his Captain for a moment. "Wrap this up for me?"

"Of course, Abe, go take care of our platypus."

The medic's mentor nods in agreement, patting Titus on the head as he steps around him, that youngster had always been so protective of his big brother, this needed his hand, not his baby brother's. Titus nods lightly, taking a bite of his pie, and thanks him softly as he steps around behind him, and he rubs his hands over his thighs as he makes his way down the hall, stopping at the door across from his, he raises his fist, knocking lightly. "Platypus, I'm coming in."

He doesn't wait for him to respond, he turns the door handle and opens the door, his heart breaking, just as much as it had all that time ago, watching his boy stare down a tap measure he'd wrapped around his belly. "Oh, little platypus, no, don't do that, where did you even find that thing?" He steps forward, pushing the door closed behind him, and crosses around to stand before him, taking in the tears that trail down his cheeks, silent but steady, and reaches out gently to take the tape measure from him.

Balling it up, he stuffs it in his pocket, and tugs him close, curling him in his arms. "Oh, my little one, what happened?" He rubs at the back of his head soothingly. "You haven't measured yourself in years."

Puriel sniffles softly, burying himself into the older Power's shoulder, gripping the back of his tunic tightly. "Abe….Abe did I get bigger?...He said I got bigger…..I'm not bigger, right?"

"Was it Theliel again?"

He doesn't need his boy to nod to know it's who he'd thought it was. He'd known since the moment he'd turned down his most favorite piece of pie who was responsible for it. This was it; his boy had put him with his bullying for years, they'd separated them, kept them apart, and yet he still managed to come back in and make his life a living hell.

"It doesn't matter if you did, you're still just as beautiful as you've always been, I'm going to talk to Nis about this, this has gone on for far too long, I'm putting my foot down."

"Abe, why's he so mean to me?"

He scratches at the back of his head lightly. "I don't know, platypus, I could only guess."

Puriel presses his forehead to his mentor's shoulder. "Abe, I don't wanna go back out there."

"I figured you wouldn't." Abraxos kisses the side of his head fondly. "Why don't we lay down and have a few of those cookies I know you keep in your nightstand."

"I'd like a cookie."

"You deserve a cookie."

The younger Power sniffs softly. "Will you rub my tummy if we lay down?"

"Do you want me to rub your tummy?"

He nods. "Mhmm."

The elder smiles, kissing him on the head again. "Sure, I'll rub your tummy."

"Thanks…." He knows what the young medic is about to say, and it brings a smile to his face, it had been a simple slip up when he'd been a small Elect, only freshly elected, and it still came up sometimes. "Papa." He knows the younger angel is blushing. "You always know how to make me feel better."

Abraxos rubs at his back soothingly. "It's what I'm here for, baby boy." He guides him around. "Let's get all cozied up together."

Puriel nods, uncurling from around his mentor, and climbs up into his bed, reaching under his pillow, he pulls out an old worn stuffed platypus, it had been a gift from his mentor, and he cherished it. He hugs his favorite stuffed toy close, feeling like he had when he was still that small little itty bitty Elect, and not very much like a big tough Power. Abraxos smiles at him, as he squats in front of his nightstand, opens the bottom drawer, and pulls out a package of cookies. Laying down next to him, he opens the package and holds a cookie out to him, waiting for him to take it and take a bite, before picking one up for himself. "Come here, platypus, cuddle in close, and I'll rub your tummy."

The medic nods, sliding in close to his side, pulling his shirt up slightly, his mentor's and is warm when it settles over his tummy and begins to rub soothingly, and he sighs happily, in content, and falls back limply as he takes another bite from his cookie. "T'anks, papa."

It always brings a smile to his face when he calls him that, it's only in private, and it warms his heart every time.

"You're welcome, baby platypus."

He looks up at the elder lightly. "Nis'll save me a piece, right?"

Abraxos smiles down at him, pecking his nose lightly. "He'll save you two."

The medic smiles, settling back down, reaching for another cookie from the package resting on his mentor's belly, and takes another bite. "I love you guys."

"We love you too, baby platypus." He presses another kiss to the top of his head. "So much."


	342. And The Light Was Gone

He stares down at his hands, his fingers spread slightly, then he lifts his eyes to the _spot_. He'd held on for as much as he could, fighting the pull of Her Darkness and the pull of his brothers, the cries of the young one ringing in his ears, begging him to save him, begging him not to let go, he'd cried back just as much, promising not to leave him, promising not to let go, and then there had been one final strong tug from behind, and their hands were ripped apart. He was forced to watch as his young angel was swallowed up, screaming his name, reaching out for him, begging him to save him, and then there had been silence, Light overpowering the Darkness, the last one taken from them.

"Puri?" A hand curls over his shoulder, a deep voice calls his name, and he feels rage overcome him, rage like he'd never felt before. He was _gone. _He was never going to see him again. _He was gone_. And, it was all _his _fault. "Puri, are you alright?"

"What kind of question is _that_!" The medic whirls around, shoving his Captain back, angry and distressed tears flooding into his eyes. _He was gone. _"Do you _think _I'm _alright_?" He steps forward and his Captain takes a step back. "He's _gone_! I had him! I _had _him! And _you_ pulled me _away_! Why'd you _do _that! I _had _him, Nisroc! I _had _him!"

"Puri, I couldn't lose you too." The older Power tries to reason.

"You couldn't _lose me too_?" That seems to have been the wrong thing to say, the medic throws a punch at him, it's sloppy, he sees it coming, and easily ducks under it. "So, _what_, you decided I was _more _important then him? You didn't even _try _to reach for him! You didn't _try_! I _had _him, and you pulled me _away_! I would give my _life _for him, do you hear me, my _life_! That wasn't _your _decision to make! It was _mine! He _should be here! He's not even a Power yet!" He laughs dilariously. "You didn't _like _him, did you? You didn't like him, that's why you decided to save me instead of reaching for him, you _detested _him, why else _wouldn't_ you reach for him! He screamed for you! He yelled your name! Did you even care that he begged you to help him! Did you even care! Tell me!"

Nisroc seems taken aback, but he nods lightly. "Puri, I do—"

"_No_! No, you don't! If you _cared_, you would have reached for him! You would have done _something_! But you didn't, instead, you pulled me away from him, you made me let go, and now he's gone. I _had _him, Nisroc, I _had _him. I was pulling him free, I _had _him, and you tore me _away_ from him." He steps up close, poking him in the chest harshly, the older Power looking down at him with wide eyes, and he glares up at him. "He's _gone, _and it's all _your _fault. I hope his screaming your name _haunts _you for the rest of your _life_. I hope, when you're surrounded by the silence, alone in your office, alone in your room, that you hear _him_ screaming your name. I hope it _destroys _you." He pokes him again. "I hate you, Nisroc, I _hate_ you with _all_ of my entire being. Your nothing but my _Captain_. You are _no_ family of mine. I'll follow you because I'm _obligated _to, and for no _other _reason, you mean _nothing _to me. _He's _gone and I _blame _no one but _you_." Puriel steps around him, shoulder checking him harshly, it forces him to stumble around, and he turns to watch the medic disappear down the steps from the Throne Room.

The others stand silently around him, having listened but not interrupted, he looks down to his hands, clenching his fingers together. "I _do _care."

"I know you do, Nisroc." He can tell Abraxos is upset, but he knows it's not directed at him, he'd been the one to tell him to pull the younger Power back, it was just as much his fault as it was their Captain's.

Nisroc turns slightly to look down at him. "I _do_."

"He knows too," he curls his fingers around his Captain's shoulder soothingly, squeezing lightly. "He's just upset. He'll come back to you. He's angry right now, but he loves you still, he loves you very much." He squeezes his shoulder once more and steps passed him. "I'm going after him, I don't want him to be alone."

The oldest Power nods, watching his brother step away from him, disappearing down the stairs after their little one. If anyone could get close enough at this time, it would be him, Puriel adored Abraxos too much to shun him, even in his most angered state. If anyone would understand how the young medic felt, it would be his mentor, Abe had lost his second Elect nearly three weeks earlier to the hands of their unforgiving Aunt, he knew what the younger Power was going through more then any of them.

…

"Platypus." He knocks lightly on the medic's door and listens, hearing nothing on the other side, he reaches for the door handle. "I'm coming in, platypus." He twists the door handle, pushing the door in slightly, and peers inside.

Puriel doesn't look up to greet him, he's sitting on the edge of his bed, head bent forward, a frame held in his hands, he rubs his thumb over a face, and he inhales deeply as he tries to keep the tears from clouding his vision.

Abraxos sighs sadly. "Puri?"

"What do you _want_?" He bites out heatedly, he can hear him gritting his teeth, that anger still right under his skin. "Did _Nisroc_ send you to _punish_ me for being so disrespectful?"

"No," he shakes his head, even though the younger angel doesn't see, and steps into the room, closing the door behind him softly. "No, I came on my own, I didn't want you to be alone." He crosses the room softly, coming to sit at his side, leaning over to see the picture in the frame he holds, smiling at the smiling faces that look back up at him. Hasmal and Puriel had been as thick as thieves, the medic loved him as though he was his own, there had been no perfecter union between two individuals then there was between them. "I know how you feel." Perhaps that's not what he should say, he fears setting his temper off again, and leans away just in case he tries to swing at him.

"Do you miss Chayy, Abe?"

The older Power looks down to his hands, it's still a sore subject, no one had spoken his name since the day he was taken from them. "I miss him with all my heart. He was my youngest. I miss him with every fiber of my being." He rubs at his left eye, collecting a tear before it can fall, and rubs it away. "I miss him so much."

"I had him, Abe, I _had _him!" His medic looks up at him with teary eyes, bloodshot, he'd been crying, and he'd been crying harshly. "And, now….Now he's gone." He sniffs lightly, biting his lip, and looks back down to the picture. "I was supposed to protect him, protect and guide him, and I failed. He's gone now. I failed him."

"You didn't fail him, Puri, you held on for dear life, he'd most certainly never say you failed him." He reaches out for the picture frame when the medic's hands start to shake, the last thing he needed was to drop it and it shatter, much like his fragile heart had. "Stop talking as though he's dead. He's still very much alive." He leans over to set the frame on the bedside table. "I have faith that we'll see our loved ones again someday. I know we will. I hold onto that faith with every part of me."

Puriel blinks up at him, as tears begin to rain down his cheeks. "H—How?"

"Because, it's all I can hold onto." The older Power turns towards him more directly. "Come to me, Platypus, don't suffer this pain on your own, I'm here to stand with you."

The medic chokes on a sob and falls forward, against him, sobbing deeply into his chest, and he wraps his arms around him tightly, hugging him as close as he can manage, just as Nisroc had held onto him when Chayyliel had been taken from his arms weeks earlier. Puriel's fingers curl into the front of his tunic, his tears soaking into his chest, and his shoulders heave with the force of his sobs. He rubs his back soothingly, pressing his cheek to the top of his head, but doesn't utter a word, _'it will be alright' _doesn't seem appropriate, so he just holds him, holds him until he falls asleep, wheezing softly through his stuffed nose, his fingers tangled in the front of his tunic, snot and tears mixing together into one wonderful concoction, he's cried himself to sleep. He holds him still, his own silent tears dripping into his curls, he hopes that their two little ones are at least together, in that eternal prison of Darkness.

Carefully, he maneuvers him around, leaning over to gently guide him back against the pillows. He whines softly as he's pulled away, and he coos softly, catching his hands as they reach out for him, pressing his lips to both of his palms. "Shhh, little one, go back to sleep."

"…Please…..don't go….papa…..please….don't go….."

"I'm not going anywhere, little one, settle on down now." He rubs his tummy for a moment, comfortingly and soothingly, before reaching over the edge of the bed for the medic's feet, tugging the left up first, he tugs his boot off, sets his foot to rest on his bed, and reaches down for the right, doing the same as he had with the other. "I'm not going anywhere."

Puriel curls up on his side, into a small ball, just as he had done when he was heart broken as a young Elect. Abraxos rubs at his curls lightly, settling down beside him, tugging him closer gently, he pulls him into his arms, tucking his head under his chin, the younger angel curls his fingers back into his tunic, and sniffles softly. "I miss him, papa, I miss him so much."

"I know you do, baby boy." He presses a kiss to his temple lightly, and rests his chin back over his curls, hugging him tighter for a moment. "You'll see him again. I know you will. I know it seems hard, but you need to hold onto that faith, you'll have him back in your arms again. I know you will. I know it."

"I'll try, Abe, I don't know if I can, though."

"Just try. All you have to do is try."

…

_He smiles to himself, curling his arms tighter around the sleeping little angel, hugging him close enough that he wakes slightly. "Mmm…Puri?..."_

_"It's alright, little dragon." He presses a kiss to the youth's forehead and loosens his grip slightly. "Go back to sleep."_

_The little angel rubs at his eyes sleepily and looks up at him. "…Okay?..."_

_"I'm okay, Maly, just a dream."_


	343. A Big Cuddle Bug

Nisroc knows who it is the moment the door to his office opens, he bites back a request for them to tell him what it means when his office door is closed, he didn't come down to him too often, especially when his office door was closed, so he let it go this time, as he usually did when one of them came into his office, they were always welcome. He turns his seat around, spreading his arms, as they cross the room and slide into his lap, blanket and all, he feels a cool nose press against his color bone, and he curls his left arm around their lower back as he turns back around to his desk, continuing his writing with his right hand.

They straddle his waist, their legs dangling behind him, pressed up against his front, and their head turns, shaggy hair rubs against his neck as they settle down comfortably.

"Sleepy, chameleon?"

"Mhmm."

He smiles, rubbing his back softly. "Why don't you go cuddle up upstairs in Abe's bed?"

"Don' wan' to be alone."

He hums, he understands, they're all busy today and none of them had been able to stay back with him. Hasmal was alright on his own, he had Hamon to keep him company, but Chayyliel had no one. He purses his lips lightly, he'd have to talk to Abe about that, perhaps they could get him a service hound too. "I understand." The Power turns his head slightly, pressing a kiss to the back of his head, and turns back to the document he was writing up. "You're always welcome here."

…

He lifts his arms lightly, holding the book he was reading above his head, when the door to his bedroom opens and he sees a form slide in, and the door click closed behind him. He hears footsteps across the stone floor of his room, and his bed dips as someone climbs up over the edge.

They crawl up and over him, collapsing over his front, and he wheezes softly as the air is forced out of him so suddenly. They're not too heavy, not overbearing, and he lowers his arms, reading over the top of his head.

"Hey, Chayy."

"Mmm….Hi…Tus."

He smiles, holding his book in one hand for a moment to rub at the boy's head, and reaches back up to turn the page. "Cold?"

"Mmm…no…..you warm…."

Titus chuckles softly, rubbing the back of his head again. "So are you, little one."

…

He huffs when he collapses onto his belly, and squirms, reaching down to catch his fingers, when he pokes at his belly as though he's fluffing a pillow. "Don't start something you can't finish, little chameleon."

The little guy giggles softly, nodding over his belly, and settles down, the rest of his body situated between his legs. "Comfy…Puri…"

"I'm comfy?"

"Mmmmm…like pillow….."

"I'm like a pillow?"

"Mhmm…."

He smiles, scratching at the back of the boy's head lightly, smiling down at him fondly, reaching over with his free hand to pull the blankets up over him. "Sleepy, little guy?"

"Mhmmm…..sleepy…..cuddles…."

"I know you get really cuddly when you're sleepy." He brushes his hand down the back of his head. "I'm always here for cuddles."

…

He yelps as he's tugged down, immediately someone's curling around him, a blanket pulled up over his head, and he feels a face press against the side of his head. He giggles softly, curling his arms around the arm curled over his chest. "Sleepy, Abe?"

"Mhmmm.." Lips press a kiss to his ear. "Nappin' together."

"I like napping with you too."

"Mmm…..Favorite nappin buddy."

Chayyliel hugs the arm tightly, turning slightly to press a kiss to the Power's cheek, and settles down for a nice nap with his favorite person. He waits until he feels him sigh, his breathing evening out, and smiles to himself. "Sleep well, papa."

He feels lips press against his neck, and his eyes widen, horror filling him with the knowledge that he'd been heard. "Mmmm…..Damn right….I'm your papa…." The youngling smiles wider and cuddles closer to him, turning in his grasp, tucking himself under his chin, resting his cheek against his chest. Lips press against his forehead for a moment and the Power sighs again. "Always been."


	344. A Bit Of Pampering

"Okay, have you got everything?"

Puriel nods, sprinkling sprinkles over the freshly iced cookies, finally cooled enough for consumption. "Cookies are done, rooms nice and warm, all the essential oils are laid out and ready to go, fresh bubbles added to the water, and their favorite meal is in the oven."

"Good, good, we're all set." Abraxos rubs his hands together, gesturing towards the Lounge, where they're two queries awaited patiently, knowing that something was happening, knowing that it had something to do with them, but not knowing what it was. "Let's go get our two patients."

The medic nods and follows him from the kitchen, both boys looks up from where they're reclining, Hasmal sits up, curling his fingers around his bare feet, and tilts his head as he gazes upon his mentor curiously. "What's going ooooon, Puri!" He shakes his left foot slightly. "The anticipation is _killing _me!"

He chuckles lightly, holding his arms open for him. "Come here, baby dragon, I'm sorry I've been killing you." Hasmal smiles, jumping to his feet, bouncing across the carpets to jump into his arms. He's still so small, he easily scoops him up off his feet, he loves that about him, it one of his favorite features, among many.

Chayyliel leans forward. "Abe, are we in trouble?"

"Should you be in trouble?"

He shrugs lightly. "I dunno."

"You don't know if you should be in trouble?"

He shrugs again. "I don't think so."

Abraxos chuckles softly. "No," he shakes his head. "You're not in trouble."

Chayyliel pushes himself to his feet and hops over to stand before his mentor, clutching at his shirt dramatically, he whines softly. "Aaaaabe! What is it! What's going onnnnn!"

The older Power chuckles again, sharing a look with his oldest boy, and Puriel nods, looking back to his boy, leaning in to rub their noses together. "We thought you two could use some pampering." He pecks his boy on the nose and Hasmal smiles lightly. "You've both been so down lately, we thought it could do you two some good."

Hasmal leans forward against his mentor, curling his arms around his neck lightly, pressing their foreheads together. "Pampering, what exactly does that entail?"

"Oh, I think it entails a few things." Abraxos brushes his youngest boy's shaggy hair back. "A nice long hot bubble bath, a treat of your _favorite _cookies, a nice massage to relieve those tense muscles, followed by your favorite meal for dinner, and then, last but certainly not least, coming to a close with lots of warm cuddles."

"All for us?"

"All for you."

Chayyliel leans against his mentor. "No strings attached?"

"No strings attached, other then having a good time."

"That sounds nice." The medic's boy intones, laying his head down on his mentor's shoulder, sighing contentedly. "That sounds really nice."

Puriel rubs his back lightly. "Then, let's get to it." He kisses his cheek lightly. "We have to get you in the tub while the waters still nice and hot and the bubbles are still nice and bubbly." He turns, carrying the youth with him, knowing his mentor will follow with the other boy. They stop in the kitchen first, for him to pick up their plate of cookies, he holds it out for both boys, Hasmal takes one and takes a bite, humming in pleasure, and takes another bite. Chayyliel takes one off the top, taking a small bite, and smiles, taking a bigger bite.

The two Power's guide their two boys down the hall, to the medic's room, and Puriel pushes the door open for them. His room is nice and toasty, the fire blazing warmly, and Hasmal sighs contentedly, he loves the warm.

Two large tubs sit just before the fire, a stool sitting between them, bubbles bubbling over the steaming water.

"First up, a nice long bubble bath, toasty steamy water and cookies." Puriel sets his mentee on his feet, poking him on the nose lightly, and turns to look at his friend and companion. "You two strip down to your undergarments and climb in." He leans over and sets the plate of cookies down on the stool. Hamon curls up in front of the fire cozily. Hasmal and Chayyliel exchange looks, nodding to each other, they begin to strip down. The fire bender dips his toes into the first tub and sighs, climbing in gently, and sitting down amidst the bubbles. "Climb in, Chayy, it's nice and hot." He reaches for another cookie and hums, taking a bite, as he leans back against the edge of the large tub.

Chayyliel nods, dipping his own toes into the other tub, and smiles, climbing in himself, settling down amidst the bubbles, he too reaches for a cookie, watching the flickering flames of the fire as he takes a bite, sighing contentedly, he closes his eyes lightly.

Puriel and Abraxos exchange looks, smiling to each other as both boys settle down, munching silently on their cookies. Hasmal just rests, closing his eyes as he munches on his cookie, and Chayyliel plays slightly with the bubbles, gathering them up in his hands and blowing them out in front of him. The fire bender seemingly falls asleep, after his sixth cookie, leaning against the side of the tub, leaving Chayyliel to finish off the cookies, he's nice though, a good friend, and leaves the other young Elect two cookies for when he wakes up.

They let them soak for a good thirty minutes, and since he's the one that's still awake, he's pulled out first. Abraxos pours a bucket of hot water into Hasmal's tub to keep him warm, and holds a towel open for him, Chayyliel smiles, pulling himself up, he climbs out of the tub and steps onto a matt, and it immediately curled into a large fluffy towel. He leans his forehead against his mentor's chest as he dries him gently, he feels a pair of lips press to the top of his head, as the older angel turns, to set the towel over the desk chair, and takes up a pair of dry trousers. "Put these on." He does as he's told, shucking out of his soaked undergarments, he slips his new ones on, then pulls his trousers up, buttoning them in place. "Good, now come, Puri's waiting for you."

Chayyliel nods, following after him as he guides him to the medic's large bed, Puriel smiles at him softly, caressing his cheek gently, he gestures to his bed. "Lay on down, on your belly."

He nods, stepping forward, climbing up to lay on the medic's bed, curling his arms up under his head, he settles down. The bed is warm under him, heated for comfort, and he sighs softly at the feeling, his eyes sliding closed. He feels the bed dip at his side, as the medic sits next to him, on his knees, it shifts as he leans over for his bedside table, he hears a cap clink free, a moment passes, it and clinks back on.

Large warm hands press over his lower back, the palms pressing on either side of his spine, and knead in softly, but firmly, and he groans softly, sagging into the bed under him, as the hands knead up his back. Fingers curl around his shoulders, thumbs rub soothing little circles over the back of his neck, rubbing from his hair line down between his shoulders, and he groans again, when they find a particularly stubborn knot and begin working on it, rubbing it free. Hands squeeze his shoulders, stretching them back, and he flows with it, a putty under his skilled hands, they find another knot and knead it free, he sighs deeply, after inhaling deeply, and heaves another soft sign, a groan intermixed, it's an amusing sound, and he hears the familiar sound of his mentor chuckling softly across the room.

He's nice and sleepy when the medic finally pulls away, completely limp, a small mound of content little angel. The bed shifts as the older angel moves, and he blinks, his mentor appearing beside him. Abraxos smiles at him softly, brushing his hair out of his eyes, rubbing his finger over his nose. "Ready for your cuddles, sleepy little guy?"

He nods sluggishly, Chayyliel is ready for his cuddles, Abe gives the best cuddles.

"Come on, you little sleepy angel." Fingers curl under his arms and tug him around gently, and the Power grunts slightly as he stands, pulling the little Elect up with him, pulling him up into his arms. He sluggishly curls his legs around his waist lightly, resting his head on the older angel's shoulder, he sighs softly and his eyes slide closed again. "Let's go take a nice long nap."

A nap sounds nice.

Puriel rubs at the back of his head as they pass him through the door. "Sleep well, little guy."

"Mmm….Thanks…Puri….."

"Anytime, Chameleon, you enjoy your cuddles and nice long nap."

He closes the door behind them and turns back to his boy, Hasmal is sleeping peacefully, and he smiles, shaking his head slightly. Perhaps their cuddles would come before the massage, no matter, he'd do whatever the little dragon wanted in which ever order he wanted. He lays a thick towel over his bed and rolls his sleeves up high, reaching into the tub to lift him out, before he pruned too much, and coos softly when he mumbles slightly into wakefulness, watching as the youth's eyes slowly slide closed once more. He sets him down on his bed, reaching for another towel to dry him with, he carefully tugs his drawers off, and dry ones on, buttoning his trousers in place, he carefully adjusts his position, tugging the towel out from under him, he runs his fingers through his long wavy locks, and settles him back against the pillows, pulling the blankets up over him.

He hangs the two towels next to the fire to dry, and returns to his side, sliding in on his other side, he tugs the boy around, settling him over his belly, his head resting on his chest, and Hasmal sniffs softly, curling closer, curling his fingers into his tunic lightly, he hums sleepily as the medic pulls the blankets up over them and curls his arms around him. "Cuddles now, then."

"Mmm…..Cuddles….." Hasmal rubs at his nose lightly and settles back down. "Love you, Puri."

"I love you too, my dragon." He kisses the top of his head lightly. "Go back to sleep."


	345. Across This New Divide

"Sir, the new intake is having a panic attack." He nods, he figured this might happen, and he curses himself for not taking action sooner, they'd been downright terrified when they'd arrived, looking about the place in horror, shivering where they stood as he discussed their intake and their sentence with the guards that had brought them. He pushes his chair back, tossing his pen on the open file resting there, and steps out from behind his desk. "Take me to them."

The guard nods, turning on his heel, walking from his office and down the hall, to the right, and he ends up at a cell where the occupant is heaving for a breath, tears streaming down their face, and blood creeping from a cut on their forehead. "What happened to her forehead?"

"She fell, backing away from us when we tried to assist her, hit her head on the table."

Thaddeus nods, waving him away, and the guard nods, pulling his partner away with him, knowing that the Warden had this taken care of, and they were no longer needed. He sighs softly, stepping into the cell, kneeling in front of the panicking angel. "Gamaliel, can you hear me?"

She looks up at him with wide eyes, her fingers clutching to her issued tunic, and just barely gives a nod.

"Good, can you see me?"

She nods again, wheezing softly as her lungs try to fill and fail to do so, he nods again, scooting closer. "Gamaliel, can I touch you?"

Gamaliel nods lightly, choking on a breath, tears streaming down her face. He nods silently, reaching for one her hands, they're so small compared to his, and he uncurls her fingers gently, pressing her palm to his chest, the collar of his tunic is hanging open, her hand presses to his bare chest, and he holds it there firmly. "Do you feel my breathing?" The younger angel nods again. "I need you to match it, can you do that for me?"

She shakes her head, she can't, she can't catch her breath, she can't do it.

"Yes, you can, I know you can. Just focus on the rise and fall of my chest, feel it, do you feel it?"

She nods, curling her fingers slightly inwards, his thumb strokes over the back of her hand. "Now, try and mimic it. Try and copy the movement."

Gamaliel nods, trying her hardest, and slowly her chest stops heaving, she wheezes softly as her lungs begin filling up, he nods approvingly, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand again. "I knew you were quite frightened, I was distracted, I'm sorry for not helping you when you first needed me." She nods again, it's okay, she knows he's a busy man. "Come on, let's get you up." He slowly rises to his feet, holding her hand as she follows him, and he pulls her close to him, pressing her against his side as he turns them out of her cell. "Just focus on your breathing and I'll take care of everything else." She nods again, following after him, clutching at his fingers, following him up when he guides her up the stairs to his quarters.

The Warden pushes the door to his room open, and guides her inside, over to his bed, where he sits her down on the edge. "You stay here."

Gamaliel nods, watching him leave, he disappears out the door for a moment, she hears another door open somewhere down the hall, and she takes this time to look around. It doesn't seem so bad, there's stuffed animals on a shelf, a large bookcase, a fireplace with a small burning fire, pictures hung on the walls, undoubtedly drawn by a fledgling's hand, it doesn't seem so bad, nothing too frightening, not like she had imagined.

He returned a moment later, carrying a large cot, and he sets it down between his bed and the fireplace, pulling a small stool over to the edge in a makeshift bedside table. He turns to the wardrobe, opening the door and reaching into the highest shelf, he pulls out a few blankets and drapes them over the mattress on the cot, then moves to the closet, after closing the wardrobe, and reaches in for two pillows, he sets those to rest at the head of the cot.

Then, he returns to her side, holding a hand out to her. "Come here, easy as you rise, don't move too fast." She nods, curling her fingers around his, and clutches to his hand as she stands, he guides her over the cot, pulling the blankets back. "Lay on down, your body is going to need to rest for it to recuperate." She nods again, lowering herself onto the cot, looking up at him as he pulls the blankets up over her, and steps around her to stand before the shelf of stuffed animals, he contemplates on which one to choose, and settles on a stuffed cat, picking that one off the shelf, he turns and holds it out to her. "I know you're not a youngling, but sometimes it's nice to have something to hold onto, especially when you're scared."

Gamaliel agrees, and unashamedly takes the stuffed feline, hugging it close to her chest.

He sighs, glancing up at her forehead. "Let's tend to your head." He turns away from her again, beside his wardrobe is a cupboard, and he pulls the door open, reaching inside for a dark bottle and a swab of cotton and a bandage. He closes the door and turns back to her, pulling his desk chair around to sit at her side, he curls in the fingers of his right hand and uncaps the bottle, pouring a few drops onto the cotton swab, he leans over to set the bottle down on the floor beside him, and leans over above her. "This is going to sting a bit, I'm afraid."

She nods, curling her fingers in the blankets, inhaling as he dabs at the cut on her forehead, cleaning up the blood and disinfecting at the same time. "There we go, all done." He sets the used cotton swab on his knee and pulls the wrapping off the bandage, pressing it over the cut on her forehead, rubbing his finger over it to make sure it was nice and secure. "There we are, all cleaned up."

The prisoner smiles lightly. "Thanks, Thaddy."

"Hey, not a problem." Thaddeus smiles down at her gently, stroking her cheek with a finger. "My job is to take care of you all and take care of you I will." He taps her cheek lightly. "You take a nice nap and recover. I'll bring my work up here so I can stay with you, alright?"

"Okay, Thaddy." She hugs the stuffed cat closer. "That makes me feel better."

"Good." He smiles down at her. "I don't want you to feel frightened." He reaches over for the bottle next to his foot, and caps it back up, standing from his seat. "You settle on down and rest. I'll be right back."

"Thaddy?" The Warden turns back to her when she calls out for him. "Am I going back to my cell when I wake up?"

He smiles, shaking his head. "No, you'll stay up here with me for short while so I can keep an eye on you, just in case of any more panic attacks, until you get used to things here. Your sentence will go by before you know it."

Gamaliel smiles, cuddling down under the blankets. "Thanks, Thaddy."

"You're most welcome, Gama."


	346. An Interesting Place To Nap

"Father, you wanted to see me?" Abraxos rubs his hands together to warm them as he steps into the Throne room, the warmth hits him like a wall, a welcoming wall, and He turns at the call of His name, and He smiles to the Power in greeting.

"Yes, hello Abe, thank you for coming so quickly." He gestures to something in front of Him, and Abraxos steps closer, coming to stand at His side, and sighs fondly, shaking his head in amusement. Only his little Elect would manage to make his way _here _of all places, make himself comfortable on Father's Throne, and fall asleep. "I thought you might be missing someone."

"Father, I am so sorry."

He shakes His head, smiling in amusement. "It's no trouble, none at all, I was working in My workshop and came out to grab something and found him, at least someone is making good use of it." He leans over and whispers playfully. "Rest assured, I've fallen asleep there a number of times Myself." He straighten once again. "But, it's not good for the back, and I don't want him to be sore when he wakes, so I figured it would be best to have you come get him and tuck him into bed."

"Of course, he'd have a massive krick in his back when he wakes up." Abraxos steps forward, intending to scoop the young angel up off the massive Throne, and is stopped by a tap on his shoulder, he turns, and Father smiles at him, holding out a thick blanket. "Bundle him in this, it's going to snow for some time, we don't want him to catch a cold."

The Power nods, thanking Him softly, and takes the blanket. He covers the younger angel with it and scoops him up in his arms, Chayyliel hums and leans in closer, resting his head on his shoulder, and drifts back off. Father strokes His fingers over the young angel's cheek lightly, tucking the blanket up around his shoulder securely, and ruffles his naturally unruly hair fondly. "Tell him he's always welcome to nap here, when he wakes, of course."

"I will," Abraxos smiles at Him, especially when the younger angel smacks his lips softly and nods closer, the fingers of his right hand climbing up sluggishly to curl in the front of his cloak. He smiles, petting His hand over the youth's unruly hair. "Go on and get him in bed."

The Power nods at Him and turns, making his way across the Throne Room, back towards the doors. He stops once, only to cover his charge's head with the blanket, and steps through the opened doors, the guards close the door behind him, to keep the heat in, undoubtedly, and he makes his way carefully down the stone steps. Chayyliel shivers against him and he feels his fingers curl tighter in his tunic for a moment. "Almost there, baby chameleon, almost there, and I'll bundle you up nice and warm." He feels him presses closer for warmth as an acknowledgement to his words.

The training field is empty by the time he returns, training having ended for the day, and he makes his way across the beaten path towards the underside of their home, and the stairs that lead up to it. He takes the stairs carefully, as to not slip with his precious cargo, and stops at the top to kick his boots off.

Puriel meets him as he's returning to the Lounge with two mugs of hot chocolate, Hasmal is waiting for him patiently, Hamon sleeping by the fire, and sets the mugs down on a side table to help him take off the younger angel's boots. He nods in appreciation and steps forward with his bundled of sleeping baby chameleon, Puriel takes his two mugs back up, and returns to the mass of blankets the two of them have accumulated. He walks his way down the hall, Haniel is sleeping in his room, Titus is reading Sora a story in his, must be nap time for the little guy, and Nisroc seems to be in the shower, he turns into his room and cracks the door behind him, he'd been resting in bed, nothing better to do on a cold winter's day, with the fire raging warmly and the thick blankets curled around him, when he'd been called on. He lays the younger angel down on his side of the bed, pulling the damp blanket away, he coos softly when the younger one whines, and covers him with the warm thick blankets on the bed.

Chayyliel hums in content, nodding down into his pillow, curling up under the warm blankets.

He hands the damp blanket by the fire to dry and returns to his bed with him, climbing in on his side, he tugs the blankets up over his shoulder and closes his eyes, listening to the crackle of the fire in the silence of his room. A body presses into his, and he opens his arms, without opening his eyes, and the body slides in closer, a head presses under his chin, and he curls his arms around them.

They don't say anything, they don't need to, sometimes silence is just as well as words.

The older angel tilts his head, pressing a kiss to the younger's forehead, and the youth nods closer.


	347. First Time For Everything

"Oh, I'm going to find you." He searches through the Lounge, feeling a sense of déjà vu washing over him, he's been here before, with another little angel of his. "And, when I do, we're going to have some _quality _one on one time together." He tosses a few pillows aside, humming to himself when he only finds a jacket, and tosses the pillows back. "I've been rather busy the last couple of weeks and we have time to make up for." He straightens, sliding his hands in his pockets, and turns, making his way slowly from the Lounge to the hall, down to the doorway of his room. He has a feeling he knows where the little guy is. He stands in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, and simply listens, for any outside noise, outside of the rain and thunder. This boy is much better at this then his last one, he barely hears a thing, no near silent giggling, not like his last boy, this one is much more quiet, as quiet as a church mouse, he'd joked once that he was going to get him a bell to wear, after he'd startled him for the third time in a row. But he hears it, even the church mouse will squeak once in a while, a slight shuffle, and he smiles, humming to himself, pushing away from the doorframe, he trudges into his room, coming to stand at the foot of his bed, looking down at the edge of the bottom of the frame. "Why do you both always hide _here_?" He shakes his head. "Why don't I check here _first_?"

He kneels, squatting lightly, and reaches under the bottom of his bedframe, his fingers rub over something smooth and he curls them around something solid, tugging backwards. He pulls out a pair of feet, a waist, a torso, and a smiling youngling. He smiles down at them in turn, tilting his head slightly, he winks at him. "You're much better at hiding then Puri was, he giggled too much."

"You still found me, though."

"Ah," he shakes his head, standing up straight, tugging the younger angel up by the ankles. The youth yelps, waving his arms around as he dangles from the Power's height, and he smiles down at him again when their eyes meet. "I'm just too good at finding my little Elects. Can't truly hide from me, I'm afraid."

"I'll manage it one day."

"And, it's a day I look forward to." He reaches up, lifting the boy higher, and he shrieks with giggles, waving his arms again, as his mentor curls his legs, under the knee, over his left shoulder, and curls his arm around his thighs to keep him steady. He reaches down with his free hand, slipping it under the hem of the youth's top, and presses his fingers into his bare belly. "But, until then, I get to have my fun anytime I want." He claws his fingers in and the boy shrieks, letting go of the hem of his shirt in favor of reaching for his fingers, his shirt falls down to his chin, and he shrieks with bubbly giggles, trying to pull his fingers away.

"Ahahahabbeehehehe! ABE! Nohohhooho! Eehehehhehehee ahahahhahaha!"

Abraxos smiles down at him, lifting his hand up and away from his belly, curling his fingers into his thighs instead and gives a firm squeeze. "Yes, Chameleon?"

Chayyliel kicks his legs as much as he can, squealing softly, and pulls himself upwards as he bats at the elder's hand weakly. "Stoohohohhop! Eieieiaaaaahahahhahahahaha! Nohohohot thahahhahaat!"

"Not that, huh?" He steps around the edge of his bed, letting his thigh go in favor of curling his fingers around the back of his neck, leaning over the edge of his bed. "Alright, I have so many other spots I can play with." He drops the boy down onto the bed and climbs up with him, laying over his waist, he slides his fingers back up under his shirt. "I'm rather fond of this belly, myself." He wiggles his fingers into the boy's lower belly.

Chayyliel presses his head back against the blankets under him, batting at his hands, shrieking with bright laughter. "Ahahahahaaahahahahhahaahaha! Ahahahhaabbeeehehehehhee! Nohohohohoo! Whyhyhyhyhyhy! Whyhyhyhyhy ahahahahhaaare yohohohohou lihihihike thihihis!"

The Power laughs softly, spidering his fingers over to the left side of his belly, and the boy jolts, kicking his feet. "Why? Because, I can, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"I'll teheheheell Nihihihihis!"

He laughs again. "You'd live to regret it." He wiggles his fingers over to the right side of his belly, and the youth squeals softly, throwing his head back. "This is nothing compared to what I'd do to you then."

Abraxos pauses, leaning over him, and Chayyliel giggles breathlessly, pushing himself up to lick the tip of his nose. "Do your worst."

"Do my worst?" He chuckles softly. "Oh, I'll do my _worst_." He settles himself down, stretching his legs out behind him, and hums to himself. "Let me get all ready."

Chayyliel shakes his head feverishly, twisting from side to side, when the Power pushes his tunic up over his head, covering his face. "Hey! Wait! No! I can't see!"

"You said for me to do my worst." He rests his arms along the youth's sides, not touching him in the slightest, and he smiles as the boy tenses under him. "That means I have the element of surprise on my end."

"That's not fair!"

"Life isn't fair." He falls silent a moment and the boy reaches up for his shirt. "You pull that shirt down and I bring out your wings." He smiles when the boy's hands flop back down on the bed. "That's what I thought." He lays there, watching the youngling twitch under him, the anticipation building up greater and greater. "Where am I going to start?"

"Nowhere!"

"That's not a place."

"You're an asshole."

"I'm a what?" Abraxos digs his fingers into the boy's sides, and he shrieks, jolting under him. "I'm a _what_?" Chayyliel shrieks with laughter, squirming from side to side, kicking his feet, bright peals of laughter fills the room as he scribbles his fingers up and down his sides. "What did you just call me?"

"Aaahahahahahahhahaha! Eehahahhahahahahahaha! Ahahahaha wohohohoonderfuhuhuhul pehehehehheerson! Aahahahahahahahaha! Ahahahahabbeehehehehehe!"

"That's not what I thought you just said."

"Ihihihihit ihihihihis! I swehehehehear! I swehehehehehaahahahahar!"

"Okay, I believe you." He pauses his attack. "My ears must have been deceiving me, then."

His young Elect nods lightly. "Thehey were!"

Abraxos smiles at him warmly. "Want to see something cool?"

"I don't think I do."

"You have to see this, it's mighty interesting, you won't want to miss it." The youth giggles lightly before nodding his assent, he figures it's going to happen anyway, might as well get it over with, and the Power smiles lightly. "I thought you would." He leans over to his right side. "Watch how I get you to come to me."

"I don't think so!" Chayyliel leans as far to the left as he can, shrieking brightly when fingers wiggle over his left side, and instinctively he jumps to the right. His Power takes a deep breath and buries his face into his side, blowing a series of long raspberries, and he squeals with laughter. "EEIEIEIAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHHAHAAEEIEIIEAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! NOHHOHOHOHOO! AHAHAHHAHAABBEEEHEHEHHEHEHE NOHOHOHOHOT THOHOHOHOSE! EIEIEIAIAIAIAHAHHAHAHAHA AHAHHAAHHAHAEEIEIEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAA AHAHAHAHHAHAHAA! NOHOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHORE! PLEHEHEHEHEASE! EEIEIIEIAAIAIAAAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA AHAHHAHAHAEEIEIEIEIEIEIAIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!"

"Now, for the other side."

"NO!"

"Yep."


	348. I Hold On

"Maly, are you in the middle of something?"

The fire bender closes the journal he was writing in to look up at the Power who had elected him, shaking his head lightly, he sits up from his laying position, stretching his back, humming in pleasure when it cracks. "No, I'm just writing."

"Sorry for interrupting you, Maly."

He shakes his head. "You didn't interrupt me, I was done anyway, what's wrong?"

Puriel blushes lightly, his cheeks burning amber, and he looks down to his hands. "I was wondering if I could….um…if I could just hold you?"

Hasmal smiles, climbing off his bed, and surprises the Power when he hops up on him, curling his legs around his waist, Puriel stumbles back from the impact and instinctively wraps his arms under him to keep him from falling. "Sure."

The medic smiles at him, curling his arms around him, around his back, trusting in his grip around his waist to keep him from falling off until he wraps his arms back under him, and he hugs him closer, pressing into the side of his neck. Hasmal instinctively giggles softly and raises his shoulder, he's been trained to know burrowing into his neck means nibbles and berries, but none come, the Power just lays there, holding him tightly, and he slowly unwinds, hugging him back just as tightly. "What's wrong, Puri?" He feels dampness cover the side of his neck. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm sorry, baby dragon." He whispers against the side of his neck. "I'm so sorry."

Hasmal frowns slightly, curling his fingers in the Power's tunic. "Sorry for what?"

Puriel inhales a shaky breath. "For letting you go. I should have held on tighter. I shouldn't have been so weak. I shouldn't have let you go so easily."

"What?" He tilts his head slightly, as best as he can with a face pressed against his neck. "I don't understand."

"If I had been stronger, you wouldn't have been taken, I'm so sorry, it's all my fault."

He sighs, understanding, and hugs himself closer, burying his face into the older angel's neck too, curling around him tighter. "It's okay, Puri, I know you didn't want to let go. I know you didn't. Why are you thinking about that?"

"Today's the day, baby dragon, today's the day."

He frowns again, pressing his cheek against the medic's ear. "Don't think about that papa. Don't live in the past. Live here, with me, in the now."

Hasmal sighs when he feels more tears soak into his neck. "Why are you crying _now_?"

Puriel squeaks softly, his tears mixing with his words, and he just barely makes out what he says. "You called me _'papa'_."

He smiles lightly, hugging him tighter again, nipping at his ear lightly until the medic pulls away from his neck to look at him as he had silently requested. The younger angel smiles at the medic, pressing their foreheads together, and licks the tip of his nose slightly, it's salty from the tears. "Well, you've always been sort of like a papa to me, I mean, what with the taking care of me and letting me sleep with you when I have nightmares and always making time for me even when you're really busy."

The Power inhales deeply, in an attempt to put a cap on his tears, and smiles at him, pecking him on the nose lightly. "I—I've always loved you like—like—"

"Like Tus loves Sora?"

He nods lightly. "Yea, like that."

"I've always loved you like Sora loves Tus."

Puriel smiles at him, nudging his cheek with his nose, and reaches up with his right hand to wipe at his cheeks, cleaning up the tear trails. "Baby dragon, is it okay if I just hold you for a bit?"

He nods, hugging himself close again, and rubs their cheeks together. "Yea, it's okay."


	349. Meeting Relations

She hums as she steps up the final stair, swinging her arms lightly as she walks across the massive veranda that surrounds the front, and steps inside the large oak doors. She smiles as she spots the one closest, his back is to her, he's tending to someone at the moment, but it's never made him mad at her when she greeted him while he was working.

Humming still, she crosses the floor, stepping away from the door, and comes up behind him. She falls forward, curling her arms around his neck, and he chuckles softly. "Hello, baby sister."

"Hi, Ori"

"Ori, are you almost done?"

The Virtue shoots a lightly heated glance up at the one he's tending to, and she looks up to tell them to be patient, no one messes with her older brothers, and stops in her tracks.

Similar bright blue eyes stare back at her.

"Oh, Iaso," Oren looks from the one before him to the one hanging around his shoulders. "You've never met Isa, have you?"

"_Who?"_

Oren feels as though this is not his job to be introducing the two siblings, and looks over the boys head for his Archangel, this should be his job, not _his_. "You're brother."

"My _what_?"

"_Brother_? That means I have a _sister_? Oh, my, God, you're my _sister!"_

"I have a _brother!"_

He finally spots his Archangel and waves at him, he turns to look at him, and when he sees who's with him, he nods, dropping what he's doing to come deal with the arising situation.

Raphael claps his hands as he approaches, drawing their attention from each other, and onto him. Iaso points at the boy. "I have a _brother!" _While Isa points at the girl, with his good hand. "I have a _sister!" _

He nods lightly, waving Oren away, the Virtue quickly excuses himself and steps away from this private familial moment. "Yes."

"Dad how come you never told me!

"How come you never told _me!"_

Iaso turns back to her _brother _and glares. "Where were you!"

"Where was I when?" Isa tilts his head. "I've been to a lot of places."

"Through all the fighting! When one side turned against the other!"

"_Ooohhh, _that." He spares the Archangel a glance and he raises an eyebrow down at him, his son spent much of his time up here with him, but he also spent plenty of time out from under his watchful eye, even he would admit, he was a tad curious to know what he got up to when he was on his own devices. "I was ummm…..At the library."

"You were at the _library_?" Iaso sounds annoyed with her newfound brother and it brings him immense amusement. "Even _I _know that's not true, and I just _met _you."

"Okay, admittedly, I was not there." He succumbs to it. "I was in Vegas."

Raphael thinks that his moment to intervene, and cuts his daughter off before she can respond, turning the boy's attention back to himself. "You were in _Vegas_?"

"Uummmm…."

"And, _what _pray tell, were you _doing _in Vegas, at the age of _sixteen_."

"Uuummmmm…..Nothing?"

He narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. "Do _not _lie to me, child."

"I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

"Oh, I believe you are."


	350. Meetings And Introductions

"Briathos," he looks up at the sound of the Power's voice, and smiles to his mentor in greeting, Titus returns his smile, from where he's leaning against the door frame. "How are you settling in?"

"It's okay."

Titus hums in amusement, shaking his head fondly, and rubs at his arm lightly. "You're not one for words, are you?" Briathos shrugs lightly. "You're just so quiet, and I've met my fair share of quiet people, but you, you're quieter then a church mouse."

He tilts his head, concern overcoming his features. "Is that wrong?"

"No, no, it's alright." He's quick to assure the boy, he's only been here a few days, he doesn't want him to start out by thinking he's done something wrong. "It's just endearing. I'm quiet myself." He tilts his head. "You haven't come to meet the others yet."

The boy looks down to his hands. "I am afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

He flexes his fingers slightly. "That they will not like me."

The Power tilts his head lightly. "What's there not to like?"

Briathos shrugs again, and his mentor sighs, he fears he's made him upset.

"Well, I know someone who's going to simply adore you."

He looks up at him. "Huh?"

"He loves all our little Elects. He loves them very much."

"Who?"

Titus smiles at him, turning to look at someone just outside the doorway, and nods, waving them into view, he knows his name, he knows who he is, but he's never met him before. The man that steps into view is tall, taller then his mentor is, a bit rounder then him too, he's definitely got some girth, but it doesn't make him any less foreboding as his mentor is, he's seen him train too, he's just as strong as the rest of them are, despite how he looks, his long curls are pulled up into a thick bun, and he smiles at him kindly. "Hello."

He returns the smile shyly. "Hi."

"I'm Puriel, I'm the medic, you can call me Puri, everyone else here does." He waves a few fingers at him playfully in his introduction. "What can I call you?"

"Well," he takes a moment, he hasn't met anyone outside of Titus yet, and he's just a bit nervous that he'll make the wrong first impression. "My names Braithos, but…But Tus calls me Bria."

"Can I call you _'Bria'_, too?"

He nods lightly, he doesn't care.

Puriel eyes him critically. "Why are you so tense, I'm not going to bite you, maybe." He winks at him playfully. "It depends on how you taste."

He tilts his head in confusion, he doesn't quite understand. "What?"

The medic smiles playfully and turns to his mentor. "Tus, I suppose we ought to give him a proper introduction."

"I thought you'd be best to assist me."

"I'm honored, baby brother, truly." He watches the older Power press a hand to his chest. "That you would chose me."

Titus snorts and gestures into the room. "After you." Puriel bows slightly as he steps forward, and he watches him step into his room, and as his mentor closes the door behind him, he doesn't quite understand what's going on. He watches his mentor step around the medic, who's rubbing his hands together lightly, and watches as he comes up to him, yelping slightly in confusion as he curls his fingers around his wrists and tugs them up above his head, pulling him back onto his back. Briathos looks up at him, as he settles his legs over his arms, trapping his hands under his thighs, and he rests back against the bed's headboard.

He turns back when he sees the movement, the medic steps forward, still rubbing his hands together, and comes to stand at the foot of his bed, he smiles at him as he leans forward, reaching for his ankles, and pulls his legs out straight down the bed, and climbs up over them, he settles between his legs and hums to himself.

The medic looks up the younger Power. "Is this the first?" He looks up to see Titus nod. "Oh, Tus, I'm honored."

"I know how much you love it."

"You're the best baby brother a guy could ask for."

He hums to himself as he pushes his tunic up, and Briathos watches him curiously, to see what he's going to do, he doesn't quite understand what's going on. "Now, look at this little tum." He pokes a couple fingers around his belly, and it's involuntary, but he giggles. Soft little giggles, and both Powers smile at the sound of them, they're adorable. "You're a cute little guy, aren't you?" The medic looks down at his belly button and hums in thought. "I wonder, what's this'll do?" He dips a finger into his belly button and wiggles it gently.

Their newest little Elect shrieks softly, sucking in his belly, trying to get that wiggling finger out from his belly button. "Oh, I was not expecting that from such a quite little angel." He pulls his finger out of his belly button and pokes over his lower belly. "I missed having all these little Elects running around, I'm happy we're taking them in again, it's been so lonely with it just being us all the time, I got new one's to play with." He pokes at a spot under his belly button. "I see what you've got here, I love the ones that have those little rolls of baby fat, those are my favorite." He curls his fingers around his waist, and he sits up slightly to see what he's doing, and throws himself back down, squealing brightly, when he buries his face in his lower belly and begins to nibble.

"EEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA NOHOHOHOHOHO! EIEIEAIAIIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOT THAHAHAHAHAAT EIEIEIAIAIAAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA IHIHIHI DOHOHOHON'T UNDERSTAHAHAHAHAHAAND! EIEIEIAIAIAIAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA STOHOHOHOHOP THAHAHHAHAHHAAT! STOHOHOHOP THAHAHAHAHAAT! EIEIEIAIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHAHAEIEIEIIEIEAIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! WHYHYHYHYHY! WHYHYHYY AHAHAHHAHAAARE YOHOHHOHOHOOU DOHOHOHOING THIHIHIHIS! EIEIEIAIAIAIIAHAHAHAHAHA AHHAHAHAHHAEEHEEEEIEIEIEIIEIEAIIAAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHHEHEEASE! PLEHEHEHEEEASE!"

Puriel pulls away from his belly and chuckles softly, he giggles breathlessly, staring at him closely. He hears chuckling from above, and looks up, his mentor smiles down at him, leaning over to brush his hair out of his face. "I didn't know you could make such a sound, Bria, you're just so quiet, that was quite the surprise."

"Tus, I'm sorry, but I'm laying claim."

"You can't claim anything on _my _little Elect."

"Aww, but Tus, I _want _this belly." He wiggles his fingers into either side of his belly, and he explodes into boisterous laughter, shaking his head feverishly, he jolts from side to side under him, trying to escape, tugging fruitlessly at his hands. "It just makes it _oh _so much better that he's so quiet and shy."

"That's my belly, Puri, you have Tatra's, this one is mine."

"But I want it, really, _really _bad!"

Briathos shrieks with laughter, interrupting them for a moment, and they both turn back to him. Puriel smiles lightly, dipping a finger back in his belly button, savoring the bright squeals of laughter it brings. "Do you mind, you little noisy beaver, we're trying to hold a conversation here."

"Aaahahahhahahahahaeeiieaiaiaiahahhahahahahaha gehehhehehehehheet ihihihihihihit ohhohohohohohout! Aahahahhahahahahahhaa nohohohohot theheheheheheerreeieieieiieieiaaiahahahahahahhaa plehehehehhease! Ahahahahhahahahahhaa!"

The medic looks back up at his younger brother. "Please, Tus?"

"Puri, if you keep asking, I'll tell Abe what you said about him the other day."

He gasps, pausing his attack. "You _wouldn't_!"

"I think we both know I would." Titus crosses his arms lightly. "Have you fun, big brother, I'm about ready for a nap."

"Alright, I'll make it quick." He buries his face back in his lower belly and Briathos squeals brightly when he begins to nibble again.

"EIEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAA NOHOHOHOHOHOT AHAHAHHAHAGAIN! EIEIEIIEAIAIAIAIAIAAHHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHOOEEIEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHO! AHAHAHHAHAHAEIIEIEAIIAIAAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE! THAHAHAHAHAAT TIHIHIHIHICKLES! EIEIEIEIAAIAIAHAHAHHAHAAHAHHAAHAHHAA IHIHIHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLES! EIEIAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAIEIIEIEIEIEAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE PUUHUHUUHUHUHURI! NOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHORE! NOHOHOHOHOT THAHAHAHHAHAAT! EIEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHA IHIHIHIHIT TIHIHIHIHICKLES! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!"

Puriel begrudgingly pulls away, he wants to have his fun, but he doesn't want to over do it either, they just met, after all. He slides off of him, and Titus pulls his hands free, he curls his arms around his belly, tugging his top back down, and giggles breathlessly as he turns over onto his side, pressing his face against his mentor's thigh.

The Power chuckles softly, scratching through his curls, rubbing at his head tenderly. "Welcome to the family, little guy."


	351. Night For A Fright

"Hey, Thaddy!"

The Warden shrieks, an undignified _manly _shriek, and throws the file he's reading above his head as he throws his hands up in surprise, jumping around to face the one who had snuck up on him. "Dammit Qaspiel!" He presses a hand over his heart. "What is it with you and trying to give me a heart attack!"

"It's funny!" The angel hound barks a laugh. "It gets you every time!"

"_'Gets you every time' _he says!" Thaddeus waves a fist at him and the guard's eyes widen. "_I'll_ get _you_!"

Qaspiel squeaks and turns tail, darting down the hall, laughing giddily when he hears the thumping of the older angel's boots, meaning he's made chase, and slides around a corner, almost crashing into a cell door, but catches himself and continues on, throwing an empty cell's door open in an attempt to slow him up, it crashes closed as the Warden throws his arm out to catch it.

In his hustle to get away, it doesn't occur to him to change forms, obviously he'd be able to run fast in hound form then in his humanoid one, and his stamina grows with it, alas, he'll come to remember it for next time.

He yelps when arms catch him around the waist, and he's tugged back off his feet. "Gotcha!"

"Thahahaddy! Nohoho!"

"Now, _I'm _going to get _you_!"

"I am so sorry!"

"Not yet, you aren't!"

He turns, walking down the hall calmly, as though he didn't have one of his young guards hanging over his shoulder. Qaspiel doesn't squirm, he never does, he just succumbs to it and lets it happen, there was no use fighting what was coming his way, fighting only made it worse. "Tus told me _all _about that belly of yours, _all _about it, and I can't wait to see for myself."

Qaspiel giggles at the implications of that statement, and he squirms lightly, tensing when fingers curl into his thigh. "If you want to be a squirmy little worm, I can start right here, right where we're standing."

"No, no! I won't! Please, don't!"

"Please, don't?" He squeezes his fingers in lightly and the young angel squeaks softly, his leg jerking under him, and he smiles at the reaction. "Oh, is this a bit sensitive?"

"Yehehes!"

"Great to know, we'll have to explore this _sensitivity _further."

He turns the corner and walks down the minor's block towards his office, in that direction, and stops just between the three entrances: the stairs, his office, and the chamber.

"Do you want to go upstairs or in the chamber?"

Qaspiel tugs lightly at the back of his tunic, and he feels his fingers curl around his belt, tugging softly. "Upstairs please, the chamber scares me."

"Aww, little puppy, I'm so sorry." Even though none of them blame him for it, he can't help but blame himself, if he hadn't have been so trusting none of that would have come to pass, but then, if he wasn't so trusting, he wouldn't be the way he is now. "You'll never have to go in there."

"Thanks, Thaddy."

He nods, patting him on the thigh as he starts climbing the stairs, careful not to jostle him too much, or bump him against the walls around them. "Anything for you, little guy."


	352. Physical Affection

"Dad?" He looks up as a head of raging curls pokes in from behind the door. "Are you busy?"

He shakes his head, waving the boy in, and the Nephilim steps in silently, closing the door behind him quietly, making sure it doesn't bang or anything. "What have you done now, Isa?"

The boy crosses to stand before his desk, and he looks up from his journal when he doesn't immediately respond, usually with his customary _'why do you always assume I've done something' _but this time he doesn't utter a word. The child fiddles with his fingers, and he sits up straighter, preparing himself for the worst, his son has never tried anything _too _reckless, but he wouldn't find it unbelievable for him to finally cross that unspoken line. "Isaiah?"

His child flinches at the use of his full name, and he licks his lips, looking down to his feet for a moment. "I'm sorry I'm so troublesome, dad."

He hums in confusion, not understanding where this was coming from, and sets his pen down, leaning forward on his arms. "What?"

"I'm always causing you more trouble and stress then you deserve, burdening you, and I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a nuisance."

"My son," he watches him carefully. "Where is this coming from?" He fears the worst. "Has someone said something to you?" That his son is being bullied.

"No, no," the Nephilim shakes his head, and looks up at him, he looks tired, and sad, he doesn't like that gleaming in his eyes, they should be bright, as they usually were, and full of mischief. "It's just….You're always so busy, taking care of everyone else, and you shouldn't have to worry about taking care of your own kid too, especially when they do something stupid, and end up diverting you from someone else who needs you more, and I'm sorry that I get in the way like that."

"Isa, my son," his dad holds a hand out to him. "Come here." He takes his father's hand, it guides him around the edge of his desk, and pulls him down to rest in his lap. He leans against his chest, as arms curl around his waist, and lips press firmly to his forehead. "You have no need to apologize to me. I don't find you burdensome, and you are no nuisance, you're curious and adventurous, a tad on the reckless side, but that's who you are. I wouldn't have you any other way then who you are." His large hand rubs over his arm lightly. Emerald green eyes looking into bright electric blue. "Yes, I am a busy man, on most days, and yes, I do take care of you often because of your adventures, I take care of you because you are my child, my only son, and I care deeply for you. I care for you because I know if I do it, it will be done right, and not to discredit my healers, they knew very well what they are doing, but I will trust no one else to care for you other then myself, because I know how to care for you best. I don't mind it, not in the slightest, you could go so far as to say, you make sure my skills never become rusty." He smiles down at him, pressing their foreheads together, and the Nephilim boy smiles when he brushes their noses together, he counts it as a victory, making his children smile will always be a victory. "Me worrying for you does not make you a burden, and it does not get in the way of my faculties, I worry about you because you are my son, my child, I worry for you just as much as I worry for your sister, though perhaps I worry about you a bit more, because you like to wander and explore new places, because you are so adventurous, I worry you will get yourself into a situation I am not fast enough to pull you from or aid you in. My worrying about you does not make you a burden to me."

Isa stares up at him silently for a moment. "You promise, dad?"

"I will never lie to you. If I think you are being too reckless, I will say something, and order you to stop."

"Or, I'll be grounded?"

"Right, if you do not, you will be grounded." He rubs the side of his thigh with his thumb. "Remember the incident with the fireworks?"

"I remember your hand and how heavy it is."

"I'm glad it was memorable." Raphael smiles lightly in amusement. "You almost blew yourself up and I was furious, because it was so reckless, and you had not stopped when I told you to." He squeezes the outside of his thigh lightly. "What brought this on, did something happen?"

Isa looks down at his hands. "I don't want to get them in trouble."

"Isaiah, I do not tolerate bullying in my flock, you know that just as well as everyone else, if someone has been bullying you, I want you to tell me."

He cringes at the use of his full name and knows not to push his luck when that's involved, and he nods lightly. "Arlo." He feels bad for ratting him out, but he doesn't want to face his dads ire, especially when it came to something he took as seriously as he took bullying. "He said the only reason you kept me around was because you didn't want me to burden someone else."

Isa looks up when his father doesn't respond, at first thinking it's because he agrees, but taking in his expression, particularly the gleam in his eyes, he knew he was wrong, he was just angry.

He takes a moment, and the Archangel finally sighs, shaking his head lightly, patting his outer thigh lightly. "Thank you for telling me." The Healer shakes his head lightly. "Titus warned me about him. I will deal with this immediately."

"Please don't tell him I was the one who told."

"I would never." He curls his left arm around his waist and reaches for his pen with his right hand. "I will deal with this once I am done with my entry. You'll wait upstairs, Oren is up there, he had a bit of a headache and I gave him the day to rest, knowing him, he'll drag you down into bed with him, and you'd best not fight it." He squeezes his hip lightly. "You could use all the rest you can get, my little insomniac."

"I'm not an insomniac, my late-night escapades are completely optional."

He chuckles, leaning over to kiss the boy on the cheek lightly. "I _know_ they are."


	353. Playing Chicken

He loved his son, he truly did, he loved him with all his heart, just as much as he loved his daughter, one thing he didn't like, however, was his son's antics. It was like he purposefully put himself into harms way just to see how far he could push him, how much he was willing to heal, how many lives he truly had.

He loved his son, but he caused him so much exasperation, how could one child cause so much trouble.

"Isa, what on earth are you _doing_?"

The Nephilim grits his teeth, holding a ball of flames in his hand, staring at his youngest Virtue. Zaveriel smirks lightly, holding his own ball of holy flames, but his smirk quickly faded into a biting of the lip.

Raphael looks between the two of them, shaking his head, and reels his hand back to smack his son over the back of the head. It breaks the boy's concentration, and he yelps, dropping the ball of flames to the floor, where it dissipates with a puff of smoke, he stares down at the slight scorch on the stone floor.

"Aw, dad!" Familiar bright blue eyes turn towards him. "I was winning!"

"You're both idiots, is what you are." The Archangel snags him by the wrist, tugging him closer, he catches sight of his youngest Virtue's smirk. "I wouldn't be so smug, Zaveriel, you can be the one to explain to Oren what happened to _your _hand." His smirk fades. "That's what I thought. Go on." Zaveriel looks regretful as he turns to spy out his older brother, and nods, a tad begrudgingly, heading off to him.

Isa makes a nervous sound. "Can Ori take care of my hand too, dad?"

He gives the boy a look, _the _look, and his mouth closes with a soft pop. "No, _I'm _going to take care of you."

Isa gulps softly. "That's what I was afraid of."

He narrows his eyes. "What was that?"

"I love you, daddy."

"That's what I _thought_ you said."

A yelp makes it's way to his ears and he looks around, spotting his youngest and his oldest, Zaveriel is rubbing the back of his head pitifully with his unburned hand, Oren snaps something, what it is, he has no idea, and yanks the younger angel forward sharply.

"You'll be gentle right?" Isa trots forward to walk at his side, looking up at him with those same wide eyes that got him out of so much trouble as a young child, perhaps that's where he'd gone wrong, perhaps he hadn't been as firm as he needed to be. "I mean, it hurts, you'll be gentle, right, dad?"

"I guess we'll just have to find out, won't we?" He pushes him down to sit on the edge of a bed, and pulls a chair over, reaching over to pull a cart closer to him. "You better not move."

"I'll try not to."

He hums, digging through the second drawer for a few bags of black tea, he drops them into a bowl of cool water sitting on the top of the cart, waiting a few minutes for it to steep and the water slowly fades into a dark brown. Removing the tea bags, he pulls the bowl down to rest on his knees, gesturing for his son to stick his burned hand into the water. Isa sighs at the cool feeling.

"What were you even attempting to accomplish doing something so foolish?"

He smiles slightly, as though his hand wasn't tingling from the burn over his palm, and he wasn't leaning forward with his hand in a bowl of cool black tea. "Zaves said he could hold onto holy fire longer then I could."

Raphael sighs deeply, that kind of sigh that parent's give when they are questioning why they must deal with such things and shakes his head exasperatedly. "You don't have to take everything as a challenge you know, you could be a normal boy, not putting yourself into harms way every time my back is turned."

"I don't put myself in harms way _every _time your back is turned."

He levels a dull look at the boy, and he smiles slightly. "Isa, that does not help your case."

"I knooow." His son whines softly. "But, if I was any different, your life would be boring."

"Are you telling me, that you do all of this, to keep me _entertained_?"

"Yes," he back tracks quickly at the look he receives. "No, _no, _no! It's not like that! Forget I even said that! What! I don't know! Daddy, my hand hurts!"

The Healer stares at him for a moment, and huffs, shaking his head again, pulling the teenagers hand from the water. He sets the bowl back on the cart and reaches into the bottom drawer for a small towel. He dabs the boy's hand dry, perhaps a bit firmer then he needs to, judging from the squeaks the boy lets go as he does, and sets the towel aside, leaning over to dig through the second drawer again, pulling out a bottle of cream. Aloe vera could treat any minor burns, and this wasn't too major, possibly on the second-degree scale, but most certainly nothing too serious. He rubs a few fingers full of the aloe over his palm, a bit firmly, and wraps it securely in a swath of gauze.

Isa whines as he pulls his bandaged hand back, waving it slightly, as it throbs, his dad had _not _been gentle. "_Ooowww!_ Your bedside manner is terrible! That hurt even more then holding the flames did!"

His dad hums softly, patting him on the knee for his attention, and holds out a small cup of two blue pills and a glass of water for him. "Here, take these, they'll help with the pain." He nods as the boy takes the cup with the pills and then the glass of water. "And, my bedside manner is _impeccable_. Even to those who are extremely _stupid _sometimes."

"Are you talking about me?" The boy follows him as he guides him around into the bed, leaning over to pull his sneakers off, and pulls the blankets up over him. "I feel like you're talking about me."

"Heaven's _no_." The way he says it leads him to believe otherwise. "I would _never _call you stupid."


	354. Revenge For Breakfast

It's extremely rare for the little Returned Elect to wake up before his mentor does, Abraxos naturally had to be up rather early to start the day's training, and it was usually _him _who slept in until about noon, because sleep was his best friend and he would always welcome it with open arms, but this morning, he was the one who woke up first. He looks up at his mentor, he looks so peaceful, it's a Saturday morning, a quick glance at the clock reveals it's about eleven thirty, so the older angel was allowed to sleep in.

He smiles to himself; Abe was a jerk, he woke him up at the crack of dawn nearly every day, saying that if he had to be up at that time, then his little Elect did too.

Chayyliel didn't find it as amusing as Abraxos did.

With him still sleeping like this, it left a perfect opportunity for revenge, and who was he to pass up this pristine opportunity. Slowly, he crawls out from between the Power's arms, pausing when he sighs, watching closely as he turns over onto his back and drapes an arm over his eyes, settling back down to sleep.

He crawls down to the foot of the bed, climbs up over his legs, and lays himself down, attempting to use his entire body to keep him from getting away to easily, like Abe did when he was the one getting it. He pauses when he does to wait for him to settle, hearing him sigh again. His left foot rubs against the Power's right arm lightly, and he's careful not to make too much movement, he doesn't want to accidently wake him up.

Carefully, he reaches for the edge of the blanket, and pulls it up, pulling it up over the Power's two feet. He smiles to himself, holding his hand up to the right sole, as though measuring it, and gives a near silent _'wow' _when he finds that the foot is bigger then his entire hand. _'Papa you have big feet.'_

He smiles again, gently stroking a finger down the right sole, the foot twitches lightly, and he giggles softly, stroking his finger down the sole again, and it kicks slightly. "Mmmm….Nis…..Stop…" He laughs softly and scratches lightly at his big toe, the toes scrunch up, and he hears his mentor give a breathy giggle, he's never heard the quiet man make such a lighthearted fledgling like sound in all his time knowing him. "Mmm…..Nis…..Not the toes…..Tickles….." He giggles softly to himself, wiggling his finger under the Power's baby toe, and Abraxos giggles again, curling his toes up. "Nis….stooop…sleepin…"

Smiling to himself, he curls the fingers of his left hand around the upper part of the right foot and pulls it back, and positions his fingers over the arch of the sole, laughing softly, he digs his fingers into his mentor's foot playfully, wiggling and scratching playfully over his foot.

Abraxos shrieks softly, his arms flying out, his eyes flying open. "Nis! No! I'm up! I'm up!" The Power looks up, laughing freely, expecting to see his older brother, and finds that he can't move his legs, not too easily anyway, and looks down to see what's holding them down, and he sees a body, a very familiar body. "Chayy? _Chayy! _Stop! Stohohohop!"

The Elect finally laughs openly, now that the man is awake, he doesn't have to keep quite. "This is what you get!" He loves his mentor's laughter, it's deep and warm, so, so warm, it fills him with warmth and happiness, lifts his spirits, and when he digs in under his toes, he laughs when he makes the mighty Power shriek like a fledgling. "Waking me up at the crack of dawn all week! This is what you get!"

"Chahahahahayy! Stohohop! I'm wahahaharning yohohohou! Ahahahhaha nohohot thehehere! Nohohot thehehehe tohohohoes! Nohohot thehehe tohohhoes!"

Chayyliel laughs and digs back under his toes, listening to his mentor cackle softly is the most hilarious thing he's ever heard, he doesn't even think of any possible repercussions, not until he feels fingers curl around his left ankle and he's tugged back, and he squeals softly when he starts nibbling at his toes.

He beats his fists against the mattress when he turns his foot lightly, and munches on the arch, shrieking with soft laughter. Fingers flutter over his sole and he curls his arms around himself. "This is what _you _get." A finger scratches over the middle of his foot playfully and he cackles. "You think you can get me and there will be _no _consequences?"

"Ahahahahabbehehehehee! Stohohhohohop! I'm sohohohorryyhyhyhyyhy! Plehehehehheease! Ehehehehehhehahahahahahahaha! Gohohoho bahahahack tohohoho sleheheheheep! I'm sohohohorry!"

"Oh, I'll go back to sleep, when I'm done with you. Now, be a good boy and cover my feet back up." He nods feverishly, reaching up to cover the Power's feet with the blanket, shrieking with a finger wiggles between his first and second toe. "Nohohoho! Nohohohot thehehehe tohohhoohohoes!"

"You know what you have to say to get me to stop."

He giggles, shrieking with laughter, and takes a deep breath. "I lohohove yoohohou paahahhaapppahahahaha!"

"What was that?"

"Aahahahahhahhaha! I sahahahahaid I lohohohohove yohohohou paahhhahahahahaapppaaahahaha! I love you, papa!"

One last wiggle between his toes, and the finger pulls away, the Power tugs at his ankle lightly. "Come back up here, little one." He giggles softly, rising to his hands and knees, and crawls around, facing the front of the bed, the Power holds the blankets up for him and he slides inside the little space that's created, and he presses himself in close, tucking himself under Abraxos' chin. "Can we go back to sleep, now?"

He giggles softly, nodding lightly, yawning widely. "Yea, let's go back to sleep."

"Good," lips press against his forehead. "Because, I'm still sleepy."

He yawns again. "Me too."


	355. Slip Ups Happen

It had been Titus that explained to him what had happened while he was otherwise preoccupied and not able to attend today's training out on the field, it had been him who told him of his Elect breaking another's nose and jaw, how he had been picked on ruthlessly until he snapped, he'd been angry at that, if they had known he was being picked on, then why hadn't they put a stop to it, and Titus hadn't had an answer for that.

Galizur had run off after that, and they hadn't seen him since, no matter how hard they searched. He'd chewed his younger brother out for not stopping it when they knew he was being bullied, and left him standing in his office, looking down to his feet in shame, to find his missing Elect.

Nisroc had a pretty good idea as to where he might have gone, and went to search there first, making his way down the hall briskly, he turns up the stairs, taking them two at a time, he had to get there as soon as he could, there was no time to waste.

He steps up into the Lounge, walks passed the kitchen, and makes his way down the hall to his room. It silent when he turns inside, there's not a peep to be heard, but he knows better, he knows he's in here. He checks first in the closet, and sighs, he knows he's in here, but he has no idea where.

The Captain takes a moment to think, Puri used to lash out at his bullies, when he'd enough of it, anger taking hold instead of the hurt, and he'd get scared Abe would be upset at him, angry even, and he'd run off and hide. Abraxos always found him, he always hid in the same place, and he leads him to stand at the foot of his bed. Cautiously, he squats, reaching under his bed, his fingers brush over something warm, and he curls his fingers around it, tugging it firmly. The object turns out to be a pair of ankles, and he pulls a pair of feet, calves, knees, and then a whole person out from under his bed.

He'd been crying, there were tear tracks glistening over his cheeks, tears still gathered in his eyes. "Gali—"

"I'm sorry, Nis! I'm sorry! I know I shouldn't have! They were just being so mean, and I couldn't take it anymore and it made me so angry because they wouldn't stop and nobody made them stop! I'm sorry!"

"Gali, you're—"

"Please don't kick me out! Please! I know better! I won't do it ever again! I promise! Please don't hate me now! I've been working so hard! It was an accident! It won't ever happen again!"

"Gali, I—"

"Please, Nis! Please don't kick me out! I really like it here! And, I really love you! I love having you as my friend and my mentor! I don't want to go! It won't happen again! I promise, it won't! Please don't make me gommmmph—"

He finally curls a hand over the youth's mouth, cutting him off mid plea. "Gali, take a breath, you haven't taken a breath in over two minutes." He waits until the boy does as he's told. "I'm not mad at you."

Galizur sniffles softly, rubbing at his nose with the back of his right hand. "Y—You're not?"

"No, I want to apologize, the others knew you were being picked on and didn't stop it, when they should have, I am so sorry."

"I'm sorry I punched him."

"I know you are, I know, come on, come up, on your feet." He curls his fingers around his ribs and stands, pulling him up with him, and sets him on his feet. Galizur jumps forward, curling around his front, hugging in closer, clutching at the back of his tunic. "It's alright, I'm not mad, I understand."

"Y—You're not going to kick me out?"

He shakes his head, petting his curls back. "No, I'm not going to kick you out. I've grown rather attached to you, I'm afraid it's not going to be so easy to get rid of me, I'm not letting you go anywhere I can't follow." He sighs when it doesn't appear the boy is going to calm down, and curls his fingers around his ribs once more, bending at the knee slightly. "Hop up, Gali." The boy hops up, and he lifts him up off his feet, grunting slightly as he does. _'I am getting to old for this,' _he thinks to himself in amusement.

Galizur curls around him, wrapping his legs around his waist and curling his arms around his neck, burying himself into his shoulder, he cries softly. "Sshhh." He pets at the back of his head. "It's alright. You couldn't help yourself. Anyone's bound to snap at that treatment. We're the ones that should feel bad, for not putting a stop to it, you only reacted to their torment."

He mumbles something against his shoulder.

"Yes," he nods lightly, turning to press a kiss to the side of his head. "I promise I'm not mad. At you, at least, I am upset at the others."

He mumbles again.

"There's nothing to forgive, little one." Nisroc sits on the edge of his bed and settles the small Elect on his lap, the boy's much like a fledgling is, especially when upset. "You acted out of defense, not out of blatant aggression, there's nothing you need my forgiveness for." He rubs his back soothingly. "You need to calm down, Gali, everything's alright, you're not in trouble, you're not being kicked out, you're staying right here with me."

Galizur pulls away slightly, rubbing at his nose again, and squeaks softly. "Mean it?"

The Power nods, smiling down at him gently. "I mean it." He caresses his cheeks, wiping the tears and tear tracks away with his thumbs, leaning in, pulling him close, he presses a firm kiss to his forehead. "I'm not mad at you, little gecko, I promise."

"I'm sorry, Nis." The boy rubs at his nose again, sniffling softly, looking up at him with teary bloodshot eyes. "I'm bad, I'm bad and I don't deserve being your Elect anymore, I hurt him, I hurt him bad, I'm no good, you should expel me from the flock and I ruined your second chance, and—"

"Now, you stop that." He cuts him off softly, but firmly, and caresses his cheeks again, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs when a few more tears trickle down. "You stop that right now." The Captain (and Commander) shakes his head firmly. "You didn't ruin anything and I'm _not _going to expel you. You are not bad, you felt bad for hurting him, you apologized, and that's a sign of the great progress you've made, I'm not taking back my decision in choosing you to be my Elect, I want you as one of my Powers, when you're ready, and that little slip up isn't going to inhibit that." He kisses him on the forehead again just as firmly. "You are _not _bad. You have moments, that aren't as frequent as they used to be, you've been getting help with your anger and lashing out, you've learned coping mechanisms and ways to keep it under control. The Galizur I know now is a far cry from the one I knew before, and I couldn't be prouder of the progress you've made on yourself, you've really come a long way. The old Galizur wouldn't have apologized for hurting him, he wouldn't have felt any guilt, but the new Galizur did. That's most certainly the opposite of being _'bad'_." He rubs his cheeks with his thumbs again. "Don't think so lowly of yourself, it pains me to know you don't see all the progress you've made, you've really come a _long _way, and I am _so _proud of you."

Galizur rubs at his nose again. "Mean it?"

The Captain nods firmly. "I mean it. I most certainly mean it." He leans over slightly, digging into his pocket for his handkerchief, and rubs at his nose softly. "Give a blow." The youth blows his nose, and he rubs his nose gently, cleaning him up a bit, and leans over slightly to stuff the handkerchief back in his pocket, leaning over a bit more for the glass on his nightstand, holding up to his lips. "Take a few sips." Galizur nods, taking a few sips of the water, it drenches his parched mouth and scratchy throat.

He curls his fingers around his ribs again, standing again, he turns, depositing the younger angel on his bed. "You climb under the blankets, after all that excitement, you could use a nap." The youth nods, scurrying up the length of the bed from the foot and slides under the blankets. He leans over slightly, rubbing his curls back. "You settle on down, I'm going to speak with the others for a moment, and then I'll come join you."

The boy nods. "Okay, Nis."

The Power nods lightly, stroking his cheek lightly, and stands straight again, turning around, he makes his way across his room and out the door, cracking it behind him.

Lucky enough, the others have gathered in the Lounge, talking amicably between each other, and it comes to a silence as he comes to stand before them, his hands resting on his hips, a particular expression masking his features. "I'm _very _disappointed in you all." Abraxos tilts his head slightly, not understanding what had made him disappointed in him, he'd been away and only just got back. "Except for you, Abe, you've been away for the last week, you're in the clear." He looks between the others. "But the same can't be said for the rest of you."

Haniel tilts his head. "Umm…..Why?"

"Which ones of you knew _my _Elect was being picked on?" Guilt overcoming their features, Puriel and Titus raise their hands slightly, Abraxos and Haniel look at them curiously. "Why didn't you two intervene if you knew he was being bullied?"

The two brothers exchange glances, Titus looks up at him, and Puriel responds. "Well….We weren't absolutely positive he was being bullied. He's always been tad more aggressive when it comes to training then the others are. We didn't really suspect any foul play until he attacked his companion." Titus nods in agreement. "You said not to intervene unless we were absolutely certain so it doesn't appear we are picking favorites just because they're one of our Elects."

Their Captain sighs deeply, nodding slightly, he _had _said that. "Well, I'm changing that, no more, if you even have an inkling that something is wrong, that there _might _be a case of bullying going on, I want you to intervene. There has been too much bullying going on and I want to put an immediate stop to it."

They all nod firmly, understanding and complying, they'd do their best to intervene before it escalated too badly.

He nods in turn, thanking them softly, letting his anger fade, and turns, intending to return to his Elect's side. He'd promised to come back and he doesn't make promises he can't keep.


	356. The Captain's First Elect

"I can't say I'm not excited for this." His mentor smiles down at him as he crawls up over his legs, he gulps lightly, Puri had told him about this, about what happens when you end up in this position. With your hands trapped, your arms secured above your head, with your tunic pulled up over your head, your top half exposed completely, Abraxos sitting on your hands reading a book and Nisroc laying over your legs, Puri had warned him about being corned by the two of them. "My very own Elect, you're technically my first, little turtle, you're my first, I get to experience what Abe does when it comes to your big brother."

Titus licks his lips lightly. "Go easy on me?"

"I don't think I can, the first time is always the worst, then it gets easier." He smiles, poking him in the belly playfully, and the young Elect giggles softly. "Puri told us all about you."

He frowns, feeling a sense of betrayal. "He's a traitor."

"I assure you; he did not tell us willingly." Abraxos pats his head lightly as he turns the page in his book. "He needed convincing."

"You tortured him, didn't you?" He looks up at the second oldest Power, and he smiles down at him, reaching over to poke him on the nose. "Not me. Nis was very curious about you."

"I was." He turns back to his mentor still poking him in the belly, and he's still giggling just as much as he was before, and Nisroc smiles at the sound. "I admit, I just didn't want to explore, I wanted to know all of it ahead of time." He wiggles a finger into his left side, and the boy squeaks, arching away from him, even though the finger follows. "So I could focus on your tickly torture instead of having to discover where to aim it." He drums his fingers over his belly lightly and the boy giggles in anticipation. "I'm going to claim myself a few interesting spots he mentioned." He wiggles his fingers into his lower belly lightly and the boy giggles feverishly. "Like this belly, I'm going to lay claim to this belly, it belongs to me now."

He gulps again, between his giggles, his big brother told him about what happens when they claim a spot, and he shakes his head, refusing to give him title over it, he's heard about what happens when you do.

"No?" Nisroc tilts his head to the side. "This little belly _doesn't_ belong to me?"

He shakes his head. "Nohoho!"

The Power digs his fingers in sharply, and he shrieks, arching his back, as those fingers wiggle over his belly playfully, in a circular tickly path. "This belly _does _belong to me. It's all mine. And, you're going to say it, too."

"Never!" He shakes his head again. "Nehehever!" He shrieks when those fingers dig into his lower belly, and he kicks his legs as best as he can. "Aahahhahahhaha Nihihihiis! Tihihihihickles! _Tihihihihickles!_"

"Oh, it does, does it?" Nisroc looks down at his belly. "Now, look at this belly," he wiggles his index fingers on either side of his belly button, and the little Elect shrieks softly, squirming from side to side, trying to pull his belly out from under him. "There's just so many tickly opportunities." He claws his fingers in suddenly, and the boy squeals brightly, jolting under him, tensing for a moment, squealing with bright laughter, bright peals of laughter echoing around the room.

Abraxos looks down at him for a moment. "Oh, Nis, it sounds like you found a good spot."

"Indeed."

"Eieieiieaiiaahiahahahhahahaha Nihihihiis! Ahahhahahhaaabbebehehehehhe lehehehehet gohohohoo! Eieieiaiaiaiahahahhahahahaha! Nohohohoh! Nohohohoho plehehehheease! Nihihihihis! Eaiaiaiaiaahaaahahahahhahahahahahaha!

He pauses his attack, and the bright squealing laughter dies down into rapid little giggles, Nisroc smiles down at him. "I've heard just how ticklish this little belly is, but I have to see for myself." He pokes him in the belly playfully, all over, and the boy under him jolts and jumps and squeaks with every poke. "This is _my _belly now, mister. I _own _this belly. I'll share it with Abe, because we share everything between us, but this is _my _belly, it only belongs to _me_." His mentor smiles at him playfully, wiggling his fingers over his belly playfully, fluttering them over his belly button, right in the middle of the shaking belly. The boy shrieks and arches his back, squeaks turning into bright shrieking peals of laughter, tugging harshly at his arms. "Say this is my belly, Tus, say it, say this is my little tickle belly."

"Nohohohoho! Ihihihihit's mihihihihine!"

Nisroc chuckles softly, shaking his head gently. "Oh, no, no. It most certainly is not. This," he wiggles his index fingers on either side of his belly button, and Titus squeals softly, sucking in his belly as much as he can. "Eieieaiaiaiahahahahahahahhaa Nihihihihis! Nohohohoho!" He looks up, tugging at his arms, and at the sounds of his name being called in their Elect's bright peals of laughter, Abraxos looks up from the book he's reading and simply chuckles, reaching down with his left hand to pat him on the head lightly, before reaching back up to turn the page.

Titus looks back down to his mentor, squealing and shrieking with laughter, he wonders if his brother can hear it down the hall, and if he'd be brave enough to come to his rescue, seeing as he has been through this more then him, he assumes not. He wouldn't be. Nisroc smiles at him lightly. "This is _my _little tickle belly, not yours, _mine."_

He looks back down to his beloved belly, lifting his fingers away from it, wiggling them just above, teasingly, and the little angel giggles feverishly, eyes jumping from hand to hand of wiggling torturous fingers. "What's going to happen to this belly now?"

"Nohohohohoooohohohothing! Nohohohohothing!"

"Now, I don't think so." He hovers his fingers right over his belly, wiggling still, the tips of his fingers just ghosting over the shaking surface, the young Elect giggles harder, watching those dangerous fingers closely. "I think it's going to get some hearty tickles."

"Nohohhohoho! Nihihihihis! Nohohohoho!"

"Oh, yes, I think it is." His fingers touch down over the shaking little belly, and the young Elect squeals brightly, arching his back at the suddenness of the assault, he knew it was coming, he could see it, but he still hadn't been able to prepare himself. He looks like an adorable little fledgling, cackling brightly with bright peals of uproarious laughter, head thrown back against their other brother's thigh, it's an endearing sight, and they both watch it for a moment, it makes both elder Powers smile. "My little tickle belly is going to get some tickles." His mentor spiders his fingers over to the left side of his belly and the little Elect squeals again, shaking his head frantically, arching over to the other side as much as his binds allow him to, squealing again when his fingers wiggle over to the right side of his belly, and he bounces lightly, jumping over to the left.

Titus shakes his head quickly from side to side, cackling boisterous peals of laughter, bouncing lightly from side to side as those fingers torture the sides of his belly relentlessly, zipping from side to side, over and over again.

"Oh, yes, I see now, my little tickle belly is quite ticklish." He digs his fingers into his lower belly, really digs them in, and the boy arches his back sharply, shrieks of laughter exploding from him. "My little tickle belly is might ticklish, what an excellent discovery." Nisroc looks down at his belly with raised eyebrows and a playful smile. "Now, look at this adorable little belly. Are you going to say that this is my little tickle belly?"

Titus bites his lip, shaking his head, he'd never say it, never, not in a million years, not under the most awful of tortures.

His mentor smiles down at him, poking him in the belly button playfully, wiggling his finger lightly, and he shrieks, it elicits bouts of hysterical giggles from him. "You're cute." He pokes all over his belly, pulling his finger out of his belly button, and the little Elect jumps from side to side, jolting and squeaking. "I like you. I definitely made the right decision." He looks down at his little belly. "Now, to get you to say what I want you to say."

Titus's eyes widen comically, when it dawns on him on the implications of that statement, and he shakes his head frantically. "NO! No! NO NIS! No, no, no! NOOO!" He squirms from side to side, tugging desperately at his arms, trying to pull himself out from under the other Power so he can push himself out from under the Captain, bouncing lightly where he lies. "Not that! Not those! Not those, please! Anything but those!"

"Oh, yes." He curls his fingers over his sides to keep him in place and bends forward. "_Those." _Nisroc presses his lips over his belly button, and rests there, listening to him shriek and giggle, begging him not to do what he's about to do, takes a deep breath, waits another moment, and blows out a long hard raspberry. The boy screams loudly, brightly, and he laughs softly against his belly, before he takes another breath and blows another mean raspberry, at some point, he doesn't know when, probably mid bounce, as he arches his back, he snakes his arms under him, around his lower back, and his fingers poke out at his sides, and they wiggles in torturously. "Oh, that sounds promising, we'll having to visit those sides once you tell me who this belly belongs to."

Nisroc presses a kiss over his shaking belly, pressing a wave of playful kisses all over, then then plants a big proper kiss over his belly button, and the younf Elect continues to bounce under him, as he arches his back again, shrieking and giggling as another round of playful kisses is pressed around his belly. "This belly is perfect. I love it." He takes another deep breath, buries his face into his lower belly, just under his belly button, and shakes his head as he blows out his raspberry.

Titus squeals and screams and laughs, boisterous uproarious laughter, as he blows again and again, shaking his head from side to side feverishly, arching his back again, kicking his feet under his mentor as much as he can, arching his back and bouncing lightly as the assault is unending. He can't take it, it tickles so bad, this is torture, absolute torture, he never expected this, especially from the Captain, it tickles so much, he can't take it, he'll crack under this tickle torture, he'll say what he wants to heard, he'll say it, anything to get him to stop with the berries. "IHIHIHIHIHIT'S YOHOHOHOHOHOHOUR TIHIHIHIHICKLE BEHEHEHEHELLY! YOHOHOHOHOURS!"

"Can you repeat that?" He nibbles playfully, takes another deep breath, buries his face in again, and blows another massive raspberry. "I want to hear it again, please, it's what?"

"EIEIEIEIAIIAIAIAIAAIHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA YOHOHHOHOHOHOURS! EIEIAIAIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAH YOHOHOHHOHOUR TIHIHIHIHIEIEEIEIIEIEIEIEIAAAHAHAHAHHHAHAH YOHOHOHOHOHOUR TIHIHIHIHICKLE BEHEHEHEHELLY! EIEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!"

"So, you admit that this is my little tickle belly?"

"EIEEIEIIEAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA YEHEHEHEHEHES! EIEIEIAIAHAHAHAHHAHA YOHHOHOHOHOHOUR TIHIHIHIHIEIEIEIIAIAIAIAAHAHAAHAHHAHAA! YOHOHOHHOHOHOUR TIHIHIHIHICKLE BEHEHEHEHHEHEELLY!"

His mentor chuckles lightly. "Told you I'd get you to say it." He pulls his arms out from under his back and looks to the side. "Now, about those sides."

"Ehehehehehhe plehehehheheease! Gohohoho ehehehheeasy ohohoon mehehehe!"

"You want me to go easy on you, huh?" He digs his fingers back into his belly, and he arches his back, arms slide back under, and curl around his belly. "That's better, let's get down to it." He leans over to the side, the little Elect's giggle grow harder as he watches him with widening eyes, screaming with laughter when his oldest brother buries his face into his side.

Titus squeals brightly, sounding much like a fledgling, and curls his fingers into the second oldest's pant legs, he tries to lean away but the arms circled around his belly keep him in place. He squeals again when the older angel shakes his head, rubbing his chin into his side, the scratchy feeling of his well kept beard adding to the torture, he tugs at his arms when he feels him nibble softly at the slight pudge on his side, shrieking with laughter. When he stills, he takes a deep breath, and blows out a long raspberry, he squeals again, and gives up on the thought of escaping, and just falls limp. He arches his back again when he nibbles again.

"EIEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHHAHAHAHA NOOHOHOHOHOO MOHHOHOHOHORE! IHIHIHII CAHAHAHAHAN'T TAHHAHAHAHAHAKE IHIHIHIHIT! EIEIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHHA NOHOHOHHO MOHOHOHOHOHORE PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE EIEIAIAIAHAHAHHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHAEIEIEIEIAAIHAHAHAHAHAHHA!"

Nisroc presses a kiss to his side and pulls away. "Have you had enough?"

"Yehehehhes! I cahahahan't tahahhaake ahahhaanymore! Plehehehehease!" Titus is red in the face, tear tracks making his cheeks glisten. "Hahahahave mehehehhercy ohohohohon mehehehehe! Plehehehheease!"

"Okay," he presses a kiss to his belly, and Titus curls his arms around himself when Abraxos leans over and allows them their freedom, and Nisroc chuckles. "But, only because I'm so fond of you." His mentor climbs off his legs and crosses around to lean against the headboard, reaching down for him. "Come here, you giggly little angel, you." He curls his fingers under his arms and tugs the little Elect back against him, settling him between his legs. "Settle on down, I've stopped, you're alright."

Titus nods, trying to steady his breathing, and rests back against him. Nisroc rubs at his belly softly, to rub away the remaining tingles, and leans over for the glass of water on the nightstand, holding it to his lips. "Take a few sips." He nods, taking a few greedy sips.

His mentor leans over to set the glass back down when he's finished, and when he straightens again, he curls his arms around him tightly, and he feels him press a kiss to the top of his head. "Welcome to the family, little one."


	357. The Consequences Of Starting Fights

"Ow, Nis, you're hurting me!" He stumbles along after his Commander as he's escorted down the Axis by the ear, others part for them as they near, watching as they march passed, the Commander looking straight ahead, dragging the youngling behind him, moving briskly towards his destination. "Slow down!"

He tugs on his ear sharply and he hops forward, yelping in pain, Nisroc spares him a glance. "You'd better keep up, then."

Zander nods, jogging to keep up with his long stride, not wanting his ear to be tugged on again, it hurt, and he didn't like it.

His eyes widen at the familiar looming building before them, he hadn't been here since he'd been released, given a new guardian, and moved on from there. He feels a small pit of anger settle into his belly, anger at the one within, the one who promised to come visit him and check up on him to see how he was doing, the one who promised not to forget about him, and the one who never showed up.

The young trainee grumbles to himself as they make their way up the stairs towards the entrance, Aeshma opens the door for them, staring at him as they enter, and Temeluch replaces her stare as he closes the door, watching them march down the hall, in the direction of the Warden's office.

"Why are we here!"

"Because," his Commander spares him a look. "I feel as though it would be more memorable coming from him then it would from me."

Zander grumbles something under his breath, but the Power can't make out what was said, and honestly, he doesn't quite care either.

They stop outside the closed door, and the Power reaches up to knock, waiting for the occupant inside to call out, granting his request for entrance. The voice calls out, and Nisroc reaches for the door handle, twisting it to the left, the latch clicks open, and he pushes the door inwards.

Thaddeus looks up from what he'd been working on at their appearance, he quirks an eyebrow at the familiar looking youngling whose ear is held captive by the Power in front of him, looking up to his Commander for an explanation. "What happened?"

"Someone decided to pick a fight on the training field this afternoon." He drags him forward by the ear. "I thought it would be more memorable if you handled it over myself."

"I see," the Warden nods lightly, setting his pen down, he pushes his chair back as he stands. "I will most certainly handle it."

"Good." Nisroc squeezes his ear one last time, firmly, he yelps at the pain. "I leave him in your capable hands." He lets go of his ear and turns, walking out calmly, closing the office door behind him, leaving the two of them alone in the Warden's office.

Thaddeus crosses his arms and turns his attention to the boy, Zander glares at him heatedly, and he'll admit, he's slightly taken aback by the hostility. "Zander, that's unlike you."

"How would you know!" The boy snaps at him angrily, and he raises an eyebrow at the tone he uses. "You were never around!"

The Warden hums softly. "I've been busy cleaning things up, Zan."

"_Don't call me that!" _He shouts, stomping forward, the Warden only raises his other eyebrow. "You—You lying, backstabbing, _asshole_!"

"Watch your language, Zander."

"You don't just get to pretend you didn't lie to me and that everything's fine!" He can see that the boy is upset at him, but doesn't quite know why, he tries to think it through, but comes up short. "You promised to visit me! You promised to keep an eye on me! I looked around for you! I waited for you! But you never showed up! You broke your promise, mr. _I don't make promises I don't keep_!"

Now he remembers, he nods to himself, he had promised the boy that he'd come visit him when he'd found him a new guardian, he'd given him his word, and admittedly, after everything that happened, he'd simply forgot his promise in the wake of having to clean up Theo's mess.

His mistake.

"You _promised _to come and you _never _came! You lied, you asshole, you lied to me!"

"Zander, I'm so sorry," he steps forward, most probably to offer the distressed boy some comfort, the guilt he feels for breaking his promise is immense, he'd always been fond of this particular boy. "I hate to admit it, but I forgot my promise."

"You _forgot_!" Zander stomps forward another step, glaring daggers at the older angel, daring him to come any closer. "You said you _loved _me, and you _forgot _about me, how can you _forget _someone you _love!" _That's when he does it, takes his anger, though justified, a step too far. When Thaddeus is in arms reach, he curls his fingers into a fist, reels his arm back, and throws his fist out, aiming for his face.

Thaddeus catches his fist, his punch was thrown rather sloppily in his anger, and spins him around, throwing a harsh smack to his rear end.

Even in his angered state, he feels the sting of the smack, and jumps forward when another rains down, another and another. He bounces in place, trying to lean away from him, but he's tugged back into place and the swats continue to rain down. "I understand you're angry, I do, and I know your anger is justified, I did you wrong, but that does _not _mean you get to be as disrespectful as you're being, it especially doesn't mean you get to attempt and _punch _me."

Zander yelps bouncing in place, his anger starting to dissipate as his bottom begins to sting slightly, and the throws don't stop. "Ow! Ow, Thaddy! I'm sorry! Ow! I was just so angry! Ow, ow, ow! Stop! Stop, Thaddy! I'm sorry!"

"This is just a warm up, for how you were acting, we haven't gotten to your punishment for picking a fight on the training field this morning."

His eyes widen as fingers curl around his ear once again, and he's tugged forward roughly, over to the closet, Thaddeus pulls the door open and reaches inside, withdrawing a worn leather belt from within, and pushes the door closed as he guides him around to the back of his desk.

The youngling is forced downwards when the Warden sits himself down in his chair, he sets the belt on his desk and reaches up for the button of his trousers, batting his hands away firmly when he tries to stop him, and tugs them down when he manages to undo the button. He yelps as he's tugged down over the older angel's lap, his knee raised slightly, his bottom sticking up just a tad bit more, his sit spots and thighs exposed.

"Thaddy, no! No! Please! I'm sorry! I was just so mad today! Not that! Please, Thaddy!"

His pleas go ignored, as the older angel picks the belt back up, presses it to his bottom, and pulls back. Zander tenses, waiting for it to come back down, trying to prepare himself for it, he knows it's going to hurt, it's going to hurt really bad. He hears it zip back down, and he shrieks, pushing himself up, bouncing in place, as it _thwaps _across his bottom.

The Warden doesn't speak a word as he paints a stinging red path up and down the boy's bare pale bottom, eleven thrashes in, and he doesn't soften his blows as the boy begs him to between sobs. He lifts his knee a bit, the boy falls forward slightly, and he aims the next set of blows to the undercurve of his bottom. The boy shrieks again, between sobs, and starts kicking his legs, pushing himself forward, and in retaliation, he throws a particularly harsh thrash over his upper thighs, and the boy howls with his cries. "You stay there."

His bottom is an amber red by the time he throws his last thrash, his sobs rocking his chest, and he sets his belt down as he rights him up on his feet, tugging his trousers back up, he's sobbing into his hands, he won't do it himself. That's fine though, he's alright doing it on his own, the boy doesn't have to.

He curls his fingers around his waist and shakes him gently. "Don't you ever try and punch me _again_, do you understand me?"

Zander nods frantically, finally pulling his hands away from his mouth to reach back and rub at his bottom profusely, as though he can rub away the sting.

"And, don't you ever instigate a fight on the training field again, either, understand?"

"Y..Yes Thaddy!"

"Good boy, now, come here." He pulls him down gently, to sit in his lap. "Come to Thaddy." He situates his stinging rear between his thighs and curls his arms around his waist as the boy lays against his chest, sobbing his little heart out. "Sshh, it's alright, sshhh. There, there. Sshhh, you're alright, it's alright, little one."

"T—Thaddy! I—I'm sorry!" The boy looks up at him, and he smiles softly, leaning in to press his lips to the tip of his tear slick nose. "I know, I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have forgotten my promise to you. But I'll make you a new promise, one that I'll be sure to keep, I'll come see you twice a week, how's that sound?"

Zander sniffles softly, having gotten his sobs under control. "P—Promise not t—to for—forget again?"

"I swear it on my honor and grace." He holds up a hand playfully. "I shall not forget this time, lest I be struck down."

The boy giggles softly, hiccupping lightly. "I'd like th—that Thaddy."

"Then, it's a plan." He kisses him on the nose again. "We're going to spend the next couple of days together, I'll clear my schedule, it's going to be just you and me, pal."

He sniffles again. "R—Really?"

"Really, really, for sure. You and me, pal, we're going to spend all day and all night together, just us. I'll make up for my wrong doing." He strokes his cheek lightly. "I'll make all your favorite meals, and we'll play all of your favorite games, and have lots of cuddles, I know how much you love your cuddles."

Zander gives him a small smile. "An—And tickles?"

"Oh, lots and lots of tickles, a good old fashion tickle torture, I haven't done that to you in ages. I'm going to rub my beard all over that belly, give it lots and lots of berries." Zander giggles softly as he curls his arms around his belly. "Nibble on those toes for an _hour_, especially those little baby toes, oh they're going to get so many nibbles."

Zander giggles again, and he knows he's curling his toes up in his boots. "Not an _hour_! That's mean!"

"Oh, an entire _hour _of toe nibbles, maybe a full thirty minutes on those baby toes alone, I know all about those particular toes, and we've so much time to catch up on." He pats him lightly on the side of his thigh. "I'm going to make you squirm and wiggle and shriek and squeal. All of the above. We've got a few years of tickles to catch up on."

He giggles again, pressing in closer. "Thaddy!"

"All those really special spots that make you shriek with laughter, and squeal and everything." He reaches up under with his right hand, he's too distracted by his proclamations of all that's going to come to notice it. "Like this one, right about…._here_." He wiggles a finger into the inner undercurve of his left cheek, and the boy gives a hybrid of a shriek, a squeal, and a scream all mixed into one as he lifts himself up, tensing up as that finger wiggles in torturously, and cackles hysterically as he rocks from side to side and bounces up and down, trying to get away from that finger or dislodge it, it doesn't move, in fact, more fingers join it, until all four fingers are digging into that one _really _bad spot and he gives off that hybrid noise again over and over and howls with cackly laughter. "You didn't think I forgot about this spot, did you, you're _worst _tickle spot?"

He clenches up as he lifts himself higher, away from those torturous fingers on his most tickly tickle spot, for a few moments, before his muscles give out and he falls back down, back to those torturous fingers, and they dig back in again. He'd have fallen off his lap, he's squirming so hard, had it not been for the arm curled around his waist, both a blessing and a curse. He tries to form words, maybe to beg him to stop, or show him mercy, but nothing comes out but the hysterical cackles as those fingers continue their work.

"Coochie, coochie, coo, little zebra." He digs in a bit deeper and the boy howls. "Does that tickle right there?" He chuckles when the boy nods feverishly, kicking his legs wildly, trying to pull away from the arm that holds him in place. "Does that tickle really bad right there?" Zander nods frantically, his face growing red from his howling cackling laughter, as he tries to clench up again. "Good, good, maybe I should turn you back over my lap and have at that little spot until I'm done with my paper work, how would you like that, does that sound fun?"

The boy shakes his head desperately, smacking his hands, one down on his desk and the other over his chest, kicking his legs wildly, and he chuckles softly, giving one final wiggle to that special spot, and lets go. He sags over him, completely limp, wheezing breathlessly as his lungs begin the task of filling back up. "T—Thaddy…." He manages to get out between gasps. "So…So _mean_."

The Warden chuckles softly again, kissing him on the side of the head, and squeezes his hip playfully. "I can tell by what brought you here that you need more laughter, don't worry, I know the perfect way to cure that." Zander giggles breathlessly between wheezes as he rests himself against the older angels chest. "When I'm done here, we're gonna go upstairs, and I'm going to go at that little spot for ages. You need a proper good old tickle torture and I'm just the guy to deliver it."

"Thaddy, Nohoho!"

"Oh, Thaddy, yes." He reaches up to scratch at the side of the boy's head. "I'm going to get that spot, and this spot right here," he wiggles a few fingers over his lower waist. "Oh, and I can't forget this spot." He wiggles a finger directly to the right of his belly button. "All those little spots that drive you crazy." He finally relents, letting the boy relax against him, and curls his arm back around his waist as he scratches at the side of his head. "Unless you're sleeping, then we'll just nap, maybe we'll just take a good old nap."

"Can I take a nap now, Thaddy?"

He hums softly. "Sure, do you want me to take you upstairs or over to the cot?"

The youngling shakes his head. "Can I take a nap on your lap?"

Thaddeus chuckles softly, kissing him on the side of the head again. "My lap is always open for naps."


	358. Of The Sleep Deprived

"Hey," he settles a hand on the nephilims head, it doesn't break his stare, and he frowns, pinching him on the arm lightly. "Hey, Isa," he gets no outward reaction to his being there and his frown deepens, he turns to look over his shoulder, raising his free hand, to gain the other's attention behind him. Emerald green eyes meet his, and there's a quick nod, as the Archangel passes a stack of folders to the young healer standing at his side, she scurries off and he steps forward, making his way over to their side. He turns back to the Nephilim boy when he hears the Archangel approaching clearly, over the general chatter and noise of the Infirmary space around them. "Isa?" The boy doesn't turn to look at him, doesn't move, not even a twitch, he just stands there, staring at the wall unblinkingly.

"Oren, what seems to be the trouble here?"

The Virtue shrugs, looking over to the Healer over the boy's head, and pokes the child in the arm, gaining no response. "He's not responding."

Raphael frowns, reaching out to shake the boy's shoulder, he moves with the motion, but doesn't break his stare. "Isa," he curls his fingers under his chin and tugs his head around forcibly. "What are you looking at?"

The break in the contact breaks him from his reverie, and the boy jolts slightly, reaching over to rub at his arm. "Ow! Who pinched me!"

"I did." He turns at the voice, looking up to the angel at his right, Oren's raised his hand slightly, pointing to himself as he did. "Like, a minute and a half ago."

"Isa, my son," he's turned around again, and he looks up into his dad's emerald eyes. "Why were you staring at the wall?"

Isa rubs at his head lightly, turning as much as he can in his dad's grip to return to looking at the wall. "It _moved_!"

"What?"

"It _moved _dad!" He turns back to the Archangel before him. "I swear, it moved, and I was watching it in case it moved again."

"Right, it moved, follow my finger for me." The oldest angel here raises a finger in front of him, it hovers in front of his nose, and he goes cross eyed to stare at it, and he follows it as it moves to the right, turning his head slightly. "No, no, keep your head straight, follow with just your eyes." He nods and straightens his head again, the finger moves the other side, and his head turns again. "Just your eyes, Isa."

"I am!"

Oren raises an eyebrow behind him, and reaches out, curling his hands around the sides of the boy's head, keeping it still. Raphael moves his finger back over to the right, and the boy tries to follow, he gasps softly. "Dad, where'd your finger go!"

"What do you mean where'd my finger go?" The Archangel's eyebrows scrunch together. "It's right here." He wiggles his finger and Isa stares, narrowing his eyes, and shakes his head as much as he can with the Virtue holding it. "Where, I can't see it!"

"Isa, when was the last time you slept?" He drops his hand and stares down at the boy, daring him to make something up to ease this away, and the boy gulps lowly at the sternness shining in his eyes. "You're mind is on the brink of shutting down on itself."

"Umm….I don't know….." The Nephilim physically counts on his fingers. "Maybe….four nights ago?"

_"Four nights ago!_" Raphael takes a breath to calm himself, running a hand down his face, sighing deeply to relieve himself, and gives his boy his attention once more. "We're getting you to bed."

"What?" He stumbles forward when Oren releases his head and pushes him gently, his dad catches him before he can actually trip over his feet and guides him around fluidly. "But, I'm not even tired!"

"You're right, you're not tired, you're _exhausted_." He's guided to a rather large bed, one of the bed's in the back, those ones are larger then the others, he doesn't understand why, he thinks it was a design flaw. "You're about ready to keel over." He watches his dad pull the blankets back and gesture to the bed. "Climb in."

"I don't know man."

"Isaiah, climb in."

_Uh oh, the full name_. The Nephilim nods obediently, slipping out of his high tops, he crawls sloppily into the bed, sliding under the blankets as they're held up for him to climb under. He lays back against the pillows and rubs at his eyes, staring up at his father, he smiles down at him. "Get some sleep."

"Dad, I'm not tired though."

"Isa, I love you, with all my heart, and that is why I say with the utmost certainty, if you do not go to sleep, I will have _no _hesitation in drugging you."

He tilts his head. "But, dad, I'm running on a streak of four days, here."

"Yes, and that streak ends now, you will never attempt to break it." The archangel brushes his thick silky curls back. "Go to sleep."

"But, dad, I can't. My mind won't let me."

"Ah, I can fix that." The Archangel holds up a finger, turning to the cart sitting next to the bed, and leans over to reach into the first drawer, withdrawing a small syringe. "Here we are."

Isa's eyes widen and he shakes his head. "No, no that's okay, I can force it."

"No, no, if you need help, it's my job, as your father and as the Healer, it's my job to help you."

He uncaps the needle and sets the cap on top of the cart, leaning over to sit on the bed, reaching to pull the blankets down.

Isa stares at the shot and scoots away as much as he can. "No, no, dad, please don't, it's gonna hurt, don't hurt me, daddy."

"Oh, calm down, it'll only be a pinch." He shakes his head when his son reaches for his sleeve. "I'm afraid it doesn't go there, my child."

The boy's eyes widen when it dawns on him, it takes a moment for his sleep deprived mind to figure it out, and he shakes his head. "Dad, no, not that, not there, I'll go to sleep, I swear."

"You said you physically could not fall asleep and I intend to help you with this problem."

"You really don't have to."

"Oh, but it would be my pleasure." He pats the side of the boy's thigh. "Roll up."

"No! No, those hurt the worst!" His boy whines pitifully. "Why are you trying to hurt me daddy!"

He shakes his head. "Now, you're just being dramatic." He pushes the boy over forcibly, pulling his sweat pants down slightly, and sticks the needle into the side of his left cheek, pushes the plunger quickly, and pulls it out a moment later.

That doesn't stop the boy from shrieking softly, rubbing at his left butt cheek, whining pitifully. "Daddy, that hurts! Why are you being so mean to me!"

"Hush now, my boy, you're alright." He rolls his eyes, it's a fond gesture, and he leans forward to rub his fingers through the boy's curls soothingly. "Settle yourself down. It'll only ache for a moment." It only takes a moment, but the boy drops off like a well fed newborn, and he smiles, untangling his fingers from his curls, and pulls the blankets up under his chin. "Sleep well, my little one."


	359. Two Sides Of The Same Coin

**Rahatiel speaking**

**_Sablo speaking_**

**_…_**

**'You should tell him.'**

**_'Right, and have him think I'm crazy, or I'm unfit to be his Elect, or have him get mad at me. He wouldn't believe me, anyway.'_**

**'Abe is a lot more openminded then you give him credit for. He'd believe you. Does he even think you know me?'**

**_'He has never brought you up before. It's probably too painful for him to talk about.'_**

**'You need to tell him. I want him to know I'm okay. Please, little brother, I want him to know I'm okay.'**

Sablo sighs, rubbing at his head lightly, and nods, pushing himself up from the couch he'd been reclining on. He owed it to Rahatiel to let him get his message across to their mentor, he'd helped him get to where he is now, he'd been his guiding voice for all his life, he owed him this one thing.

He walks through the Lounge slowly, sticking his hands in his pockets and slouches forward, crossing over to the hall, he walks down to the door of his query, and he stares at it for a long moment.

**'Please, little brother, please. He needs to know.'**

He nods again, raising his fist, he knocks on the door. He hears movement inside, the creaking of a bed as someone rises from it, movement as someone crosses the floor, and the door swings open. His mentor smiles down at him, and he feels something inside of him shift, Rahatiel's paying attention. "What can I do for you, Sab?"

Sablo rubs at his head again and nods to himself, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Abe, can I talk to you, in private?"

The second oldest Power raises an eyebrow lightly, and nods, stepping to the side to allow him entrance, and gestures for him to come in. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, yes, everything's fine, I just, I don't want the others to hear."

Abraxos hums softly, closing his door behind his little Elect, and turns to face him once he has. Sablo stands in the middle of his room, in the way the light hits him, he swears he sees gold speckles in his brown eyes, he's never noticed that before, perhaps he just wasn't paying all that much attention to it, they make his eyes shimmer in the way the light hits them. "What's going on?"

Sablo rubs at the back of his head lightly, taking a deep breath, he's never told anyone, mainly because he was sure they'd never believe him. He can feel Rahatiel shifting, it's almost like he's poking him, urging him on, to tell their mentor everything.

He takes a deep breath and looks up at his mentor. "Ummm…..Okay…..I've never told anyone….But he says you need to know…." The second oldest Power tilts his head as if to ask _'who?'_ and he continues on. "Raha wants you to know he's okay."

Abraxos inhales sharply, staring at him with wide eyes, and he stares back, not sure what to say now that he's said it. "Where did you hear that name?" He's never told the young Elect about his second Elect, it was too painful, he'd been lost in the war, another casualty, one that he missed dearly and couldn't speak about. "How do you know that name?"

"He um…He told me?"

He stares at the boy with scrutiny. "He couldn't have. He's dead. Do you think this is some sort of amusing joke?"

**'You have to tell him. Tell him everything. He'll believe you. Trust me.'**

Sablo nods again and heaves another sigh, this is so awkward, because it was so unbelievable. "Maybe…Maybe we should sit down."

He stares at the boy, into his speckled eyes, and when he sees no signs of deceit, he nods, stepping around him to sit on the edge of his bed, gesturing for his young Elect to follow him, to sit next to him. Sablo nods once again and follows, sitting next to him on the bed, and fiddles with his fingers. "I…um…..I never told anyone because I didn't think they'd believe me." He looks up at the Power beside him. "We were…He was reborn….I'm him and he's me….We've always been together, he was my only companion growing up, the only one my brothers couldn't take from me…." Abraxos nods, as if to indicate he's still following along. "He was the one that asked if I wanted to be a Power, he told me, about what happened to him and how he died and all about you….He _really _loves you….He helped me train, telling me how to do certain things, things that would gain one of you guys attention….I _hoped_ I got your attention so he could be with you again because he deserves to be happy, even if you didn't know it."

"So…. So, you're both in there?" He pokes him in the forehead lightly.

He nods. "We share. I'm in control most of the time, but sometimes, in training, he'll take control. He was the one who helped me escape from the other side when they found out I was a spy."

Abraxos looks him in the eyes, staring, looking for any signs of falsehood to be had. He finds none. "So…So he's here now?" Sablo nods. "He can…He can hear us?" He nods again. "Can he…Can he see me?"

**'Tell him that I missed him. Tell him I missed him.'**

"Mhmm." Sablo tilts his head. "He says he missed you."

Their mentor turns to him, reaching up to caress his cheeks, and looks between his eyes. "Can….Can I talk to him.

**'Oh, please, please let me talk to him. Please, little brother, please, can I talk to him?'**

**_'Yea, you can talk to him.'_**

The boy nods, as best he can with the hands caressing his cheeks, and he watches his eyes fade, gold consumes them where the brown had before, and instead of the gold speckles in brown eyes, there's brown speckles in gold eyes.

**"Woah! Wow, this is what it feels like to be in charge?" **He looks down at his hand the best he can, flexing his fingers. **"This is so cool."**

"Raha?" Abraxos calls softly, a slight pitch to his tone, and the hand drops, golden speckled eyes turn to look up at him, and the boy smiles, tears making his eyes glisten. "It is really you, Raha?"

**"Abe? Abe, I missed you so much!" **The boy jumps forward, between his arms, and hugs himself as close as he can. **"It's me, Abe, it's me! I'm okay! I've always been okay! I tried to get Sab to tell you sooner, but he was scared you wouldn't believe him!"**

"Raha…" He curls his arms around the young Elect, curling the fingers of his right hand through the curls on the back of his head, curling around him as much as he can. "Raha, I am so sorry…I am so sorry I couldn't save you…I tried so hard..I would have given my life for you."

**"No, no, papa, no. I wouldn't want you to do that. There's many others you could have saved, like you saved me, you gave me the chance of a lifetime, I wouldn't have wanted you to die. I was okay, you held me, you held me until I went, I was okay." **He curls around him, curling his fingers in the back of the Power's shirt, pressing himself closer. **"I've been here with you. I was so happy when you chose Sab, he needed you, you make him so happy. He's too shy to call you 'papa' but that's what he calls you when we talk about you."**

The second oldest Power smiles lightly. "He does?"

**"Yea, he really loves you, and he secretly loves it when you give him tickles." **He can hear the slyness in his tone, and it makes him chuckle softly, he can tell he's rather fond of his companion. **"I'm the one who wakes him up in the morning, you'd never know it, but if you don't wake him up, he won't wake up. You should see him. You'd think I was killing him he squirms so much."**

**_'Don't tell him that! What are you doing, Raha! Now he's going to be extra mean!'_**

**"He says he needs all the tickles you can give him because it makes him so happy and he loves spending time with you."**

**_'I do love spending time with him, but I never said that! Are you betraying me? You are! I let you talk to him and this is how you thank me!'_**

**'I could have forced you, but I didn't, because I'm nice.'**

**_'You are not! You're just as bad as he is!'_**

**'Can I help it that I like making my little brother laugh?'**

**_'You are just as bad as he is!'_**

**'What can I say? I learned from a true master.'**

"Are you guys talking?" He's pulled from his thoughts at the sound of his mentor's voice, Abraxos smiles lightly, holding him as close as he can. "You fell pretty quiet."

**"Yea, we talk a lot, he keeps me company and I keep him company. I love him, he's my best friend, my little brother."**

"I love you both _so_ much." The Power pulls him back slightly, meeting his eyes once more, and leans in to kiss him on the forehead. "Thank you, for telling me."

He watches those eyes fade again, gold fading to brown, and the brown speckles fade to gold, he assumes that means Rahatiel has stepped back and Sablo has returned to him, he looks between his eyes carefully. "Sab?"

"It's me, you're welcome." The young Elect hugs his mentor tightly. "Sorry for not telling you sooner. I just didn't think you'd believe me."

"Thank you, Sab, thank you so much." He hugs the boy tightly, curling around him as much as he can, curling his fingers back through his curls. "Thank you, for letting me talk to him."

"He would have pestered me until I let him."

**'Oh, I would have been brutal, your wings and belly wouldn't have known what hit them.' **He hears his companion laugh softly in his head and he stiffens, when he feels invisible fingers flutter over his belly, and quickly curls an arm around himself, as though that could stop him. **'That won't stop me, and you know it, I'm the only one who can get you and not have to fight to get you too.'**

**_'You are an asshole.'_**

**'Careful, little brother, I know about that ONE spot, that not even Abe's found yet. You don't want me to have to punish you for being disrespectful, do you?'**

"What's he saying?" Abraxos is starting to realize that the color of their eyes seem to fade a bit when they're communicating, and he guesses they're talking, when he sees them fade slightly. "Is he being nice?"

Sablo smiles softly, nodding his head, rubbing his cheek against the Power's chest. "I called him an asshole and he's threatening to punish me for it."

"Mmm, that's not nice."

"He was being one!" He squeezes the Power's arm lightly. "Don't take his side!"

"I'm not taking anyone's side." The mentor squeezes him in return. "But, if he thinks he must punish you for being disrespectful, then I agree, you're lucky it wasn't me you called an _'asshole'_."

Sablo closes his eyes as he hears his constant companion laugh again. **'He's given me permission!'**

**_'Big brother, don't you dare!'_**

**'You must be punished for such language.'**

**_'Don't you dare, Raha!'_**

**'Oh, I dare, you don't scare me, little brother.'**

"Get him good, Raha."


	360. The Birthday Of All Birthdays

**Rahatiel speaking**

**_Sablo speaking_**

…

**'Little brother, I think the idea is marvelous, I truly do, but what if it harms you? Abe would never forgive himself if he knew you gave your life so easily just to make him happy, your plan would backfire, he'd be broken. He can't lose both of us.'**

**_'I think it'll be okay. Father wouldn't do it if it meant one of us would have to die. Just think of how happy it would make papa, to have you back, and it really be you.'_**

**'He's happy with us being together too. Why put yourself in unnecessary danger?'**

**_'I think it'll be fine. You just worry too much.'_**

**'With good reason. I've known you all your life. I know how you can be when you set your mind to something.'**

**_'Just trust me, will you, I know what I'm doing.'_**

He can hear the other sigh deeply. **'Fine, but the first moment I smell trouble, I'm taking over.'**

Sablo decides that the closest he's going to get from the older being as his agreement, and hums to himself, staring up at the open doors of the Throne Room, he takes the first step up, follows with the second, and before he knows it, he's half way up. He pauses once he crests the top, the guards look at him, and he smiles slightly in greeting, he's not sure how this will work, it had just come to him in the spur of the moment, he wanted to give Abe something special for his birthday, and this was what his mind had thought of.

"I was wondering when you'd come." Father sounds amused, and he looks into His rainbow-colored eyes as he enters the Throne Room, He looks down at him from His Throne, smiling down at him fondly. "You've been standing out there for nearly an hour." He rests His hands in His lap and nods down at him. "Go ahead, ask what you came here to ask."

Sablo rubs at the back of his head. "Well, today's Abe's birthday, you know?"

"I do."

He nods. "I want to give him something special. Something he'll love."

"Go on."

The Power Elect takes a deep breath. "And, I want to give him Rahatiel."

He smiles down at him, and nods lightly, rubbing at His chin lightly, stroking His beard. "I was wondering when you'd ask. You and Rahatiel are very rare, even among our kind, when an angel is reborn, they are reborn in the barest sense of the word, there should be no remembrance of their past life." He ponders His next words. "When Ratahiel chose to be reborn, I merged his grace with another's, yours, they're meant to become one, you being him and him being you, but it seems, your graces didn't merge, not in the way they should have. You are you and he is himself, but at the same time, you are both one. You cannot live without him and he cannot live without you. You are connected, where it counts, twins if you will."

He licks his lips cautiously. "So…. So, you can't separate us?"

"I never said I couldn't, I can do anything I please." He hums thoughtfully, stroking His beard again, nodding lightly to whatever was going through His mind. "I could separate you, if you both want that, but there would be a cost, nothing in this universe is free of consequence. You would be two separate people, but still connected, your graces are merged, you would still be one, in a different sense of the word. You would feel what he feels, and vise versa, you cannot live without the other, forbid it come to pass, but if one of you were to die, so would the other, you are two sides of the same coin, separate but connected." He leans forward in His Throne, looking down at the little angel firmly. "The risks would be greater if you two were to separate, and it will have to be a decision made by both of you, does Rahatiel agree to this?"

**'If I agree, I want you to promise to never leave my side, that is the only way I'll agree to this.'**

**_'I promise never to leave your side.'_**

**'I agree.'**

"He agrees."

"I know." God winks down at him, and stands from His Throne, shrinking in size. He's still taller then him, but not as large now, he's no giant. "I can hear him." He comes to stand before him, and nods, reaching up to touch His fingers to his forehead. "You might feel a bit lightheaded at first, if you need to sit, then sit."

Sablo nods, going cross eyed as he stares at his Father's fingers, watching as they begin to glow, and he was overcome, he felt lightheaded, just as Father had warned he might. It felt like something was being torn away, something was being taken, he felt cold, as if half of him was missing, like he wasn't whole. He must have nearly passed out, because for a moment, everything went fuzzy, and when he opened his eyes he was sitting on the floor.

There was a man sitting next to him, not as old as Abe was, not as young as him, a nice mix, maybe around Saba's age, perhaps just a tad bit younger. Golden brown curls, slightly paled skin, and piercing gold eyes. He knew who it was, instinctively, and he blinks the fuzziness from his vision as Father works on the young man sitting next to him. There something between them, like a line of light, it fades and ripples with different colors, like the barrier did beyond the gates, it connects them together, it glows and fades, like a heartbeat, or a breath of air, he stares at it for a moment.

"My son, how do you feel?" Sablo looks up when he knows he's being addressed. "Are you alright?"

"I..I feel like a part of me is missing…"

"How can I be missing if I'm sitting next to you?"

Their Father smiles, turning His attention to the boy at his side, he turns to look at him, he meets golden eyes, he smiles at him, and he returns the smile in kind. "Raha?"

"Hey, little brother." He holds a hand out to him. "It's nice to finally meet you."

…

They walk across the empty snowy training field together, in silence, it's weird being apart, they're so used to being together, sharing one mind, one body. The snow crunches under their boots, and Rahatiel steps to the side at the foot of the stairs, they both agreed that the younger would go first, and Sablo steps up, a nervousness taking over, what if Abe _didn't _like their gift.

He crests the top of the stairs first, Rahatiel stops behind him as he draws to a stop, his eyes meet Puriel's from across the room, the medic makes a face, it's an unhappy face, they're upset that he seemingly skipped out on his mentor's birthday.

"Where were you?" The medic calls, and it turns all the eyes in his direction, there's a flicker of hurt in his mentor's eyes, that he missed most of the celebration, he hadn't realized he'd been in the Throne Room for as long as he had until he stepped out and saw that the sun had set. "You missed Abe's birthday dinner."

He squirms under their combined gazes, most of them are hard, the only hurt on is his mentor's, and he feels bad. A hand touches his lower back from behind him, and he nods, stepping forward a step. "I was….I was doing something…"

"What's more important then your _mentor's _birthday, the one who _elected _you, the one who gave you a _chance_?" Puriel's not letting this one go. "What's _more _important than that?"

"Puri," Abraxos's soft voice cuts him off, and they both turn to look at him, he's looking down at the piece of cake that has been set in front of him. "Let it be."

"No! He should have been here! He—"

"He was getting _me_." Eyes turn from the second oldest of the Powers at the sound of his voice, one they hadn't heard since the onslaught of the Great War, and he steps up behind the younger Elect. "We're sorry for being late to the festivities."

They stare at him, Puriel's gone blank, staring with wide eyes, mouth hanging open slightly, and he drops the cake, it lands on the table with a splat, staying in one piece, by some miracle, this entire thing must be amusing Father greatly, there was no other reason for the cake to not be ruined by the fall it took.

Haniel and Titus stare at him, eyes wide and surprised, mouths open as if to say something, but no words managed to come forth.

Nisroc stares at him as though he's seen a ghost. "R—Raha?"

"In the flesh." He smiles, looking down at himself, pressing his hands to his chest. "It feels weird being in my own body."

A chair squeaks as it's pushed back suddenly, and they all turn at the noise, Abraxos ignores them, crossing out from behind the table, jogging the length of the Lounge, and curls around him as tightly as he can. Rahatiel smiles, curling his own arms around his mentor in return, he'd forced back a step, to the edge of the last stair, at the impact from the older angel. "We should move before we fall down the stairs."

The Power backs up, refusing to let go of him, and they shuffle back away from the stairs.

"_How?" _He finally pulls away, hands curled around his cheeks, his cheeks glisten from tears. "_How _are you here?" He looks to his other boy, his younger boy, and Sablo smiles slightly. "Last I knew…Last I knew you both were _one _being…How are you _two_?"

"It was little brother's idea." They turn to look at the younger angel, and Abraxos smiles at him, reaching out to tug him into his embrace too. "He said he wanted to give you something special."

The Power squeezes his youngest Elect. "Thank you, starfish."

**'Call him papa, bet it'll make him cry again.'**

**_'He is already crying, Raha, that's mean.'_**

**'Do it.'**

"You're welcome, papa." Rahatiel elbows his forever companion in the side lightly when the Power inhales deeply and curls around them again. **'Told you.'**

**_'It's his birthday and you're being mean to him.'_**

**'He never cries! This is great!'**

**_'You are the biggest jerk I know!'_**

**'Careful, little brother, Father said we still share one grace, I could take you down in front of everyone.'**

**_'You wouldn't dare!'_**

**'Wouldn't I?'**

Sablo shrieks suddenly, startling everyone in the room, and jumps back, reaching back towards his shoulders, bouncing lightly on his feet, cackling madly. Rahatiel smiles and turns to look at him knowingly.

Abraxos looks between them both, after gazing at his youngest with concern, and smacks the older in the chest. "Leave your brother alone." The younger angel laughs softly, but nods, and Sablo settles down, glaring at his older brother as he wheezes for a breath. "You're a jerk."

"You dared me."

"Guys…?" The three of them turn to look at the others, seemingly having forgotten they weren't alone, and Sablo smiles slightly, rubbing the back of his head. "Surprise?"

"I don't understand…." Titus taps his lips with a finger. "What does Sab have to do with Raha?"

Abraxos turns back to the two boys, gesturing for them to follow, and makes his way back to his seat. Rahatiel takes the chair next to him and Sablo frowns, noting the lack of seats, and yelps, when the older angel tugs him around and situates him in his lap. He smiles, leaning back against his chest, and Rahatiel curls his arms around his waist, resting his chin on the boy's shoulder. "I can explain."

The others nod.

"When I died, I went to Father and Death, I was given the option of resting with Void or being reborn, and I chose to be reborn. I was reborn in Sablo."

Sablo nods. "When Father combined our graces, they didn't mix in the way they should have, but He didn't realize it until He'd given me to my guardian. We share one core, but Raha is his own person and I am mine; we're connected."

Abraxos smiles at them, this is most certainly the best birthday gift he's even been given, and reaches out to take one of the older boy's hands, he just wants to hold onto him, to know he's real, he's there, he's solid. "Is this temporary?"

"So long as we're both alive it's seemingly permanent, since we share one grace, separated into two forms, if one of us perishes, so does the other." Rahatiel squeezes Sablo with his other arm, Abe's holding onto the one hand, but he makes do. "So, we have to make sure young Sab here doesn't kick the bucket."

"Hey! We have to make sure you don't either!"

"Oh, little brother, I've already done my fair share of dying, I don't plan on doing it again."

"History has a tendency to repeat itself!"

"Boys." They both look over to their mentor, Abraxos is rubbing his forehead, as though he feels a headache coming on, with their bickering, it wouldn't be a surprise. "Neither of you are dying, for the first time, or the second time. Enough talking like that."

"Sorry, papa." Rahatiel has no problem saying it in front of everyone, Sablo mumbles though, he's still too shy, and he huff softly, nudging him with the side of his head. "Sorry, papa."

"It's alright." He smiles at them and squeezes the elder boy's hand. "Let's have some of Puri's delectable cake."

"Cake! Yes! I haven't had cake since before I—" Sablo stomps his heel into his foot and he yelps, cut off midsentence. **_'Raha, don't make papa upset on his birthday. No making death jokes, or puns, or ironies.'_**

**'You're right, I was being insensitive, I'm sorry.'**

"—for as long as I can remember."

**_'Good save, big brother.'_**

**'Why, thank you, little brother.'**

**_'Are we sleeping in my room tonight?'_**

**'Um, no, I haven't gotten to cuddle up with papa since I was on my deathbed, I plan on taking full advantage to catch up on lost time.'**

**_'And, I have to join you, right?'_**

**'Aww, are you shy about cuddling up with papa too?'**

**_'I am not!'_**

**'Then, ask papa if we can sleep with him tonight.'**

**_'You ask!'_**

**'Still shy.'**

Both boys turn to look at the second oldest Power in unison. "Papa, can we sleep with you tonight?"

"I wasn't letting you sleep anywhere else."


	361. Leopold The Lion

"Papa! Papa, did I do good!" The boy practically vibrates in his chair, across from the Warden, and Thaddeus smiles at him lightly, tapping his lips with his finger. "Did I do good, papa!" They both loved these moments, the boy loved getting his reward and he loved how excited he got.

"Did you, Zazriel?"

The boy nods feverishly. "I've been eating all my supper! I haven't hit anyone! I haven't used any bad words! I haven't picked any fights! I've been really good, papa!"

He chuckles lightly, nodding in turn, and lowers his hand. "You've been very good, Zaz, papa is so proud of you." The Warden leans forward, opening the bottom right drawer of his desk, and Zazriel squeals softly in excitement at the thought of what his reward might be this time. He hopes it's a lion, he really wants a lion, he's asked all week if he can get a lion this time, Thaddy would just chuckle and say _'maybe'_. He hated that word, he hated _'maybe'_, he didn't like not knowing.

The young angel squeals happily again when the Warden straightens and sets a furry lion on his desk. "I think your good behavior calls for a reward."

He leans forward, hands outstretched, looking at the older angel for permission. Thaddeus nods lightly, and he snatches up the stuffed lion, hugging it closely. It's so fuzzy and soft, he rubs his cheek over the fluffy head, humming happily, he's so happy right now, nothing could bring him down.

"Zazriel, there's something else." He looks up, beaming happily, hugging his lion close. Thaddeus taps the file on his desk, his file, and nods lightly. "You're being released." He feels his happiness start to crumble. "I've found you a nice guardian." He stares at him with wide eyes. "You can take all your stuffed friends with you, she agreed to keep up our arrangement, and I expect you to be on your best behavior."

He shakes his head, hugging his lion closer. "…No….."

"Zaz, you're going to love her." Thaddeus leans forward in his chair, resting his arms on his desk top, smiling at him lightly. "I've told her all about you, she's so excited to meet you."

"But—But…." Zazriel shakes his head again. "I don't..I don't want to go, papa…..I want to come stay with you….I want to stay with you….Please, papa, please….I'll be really good….I'm small so I don't take up too much room…I'll be really good, papa…..I promise…I'll be a good angel…..Please, don't make me go!"

"Zaz, you _are _a very good angel, I've never doubted that."

"Please papa! Please! I want to stay with you! I don't want to go! Please, papa, please!"

He feels his heart clench tightly. "Zaz, I'd be more then happy to take you in, but there's already so much of us upstairs, I just don't think I have the room."

Tears gather in his eyes. "Please, papa, please! I want to stay with you! Please don't make me go! Please, papa! Please! I want to come stay with you! I don't want to go no where else!"

Thaddeus sighs softly. "Zaz, she's _really _nice, she's got a kind heart, she'll continue getting you stuffed animals, she'll treat you right."

"Please, papa!" Tears finally fall from his eyes, dripping down his cheeks, his happiness of finally getting his lion quenched in the wake of learning he has to go, he doesn't want to go, he doesn't want anyone but his papa, who was so nice to him and never raised his voice when he had accidents and tucked him in at night and made sure he was safe and sound before leaving him for the night, he didn't want anyone else but his papa. "I wan' you! I don' wanna go! Please, papa!" A soft sob tears from his chest. "Please! I wanna stay wit' you! I wanna stay wit' you papa!"

Thaddeus watches him for a moment, as he sobs into his lions soft head, and it breaks his heart. Heaving a sigh, he nods lightly, leaning back in his chair, waving him over. Zazriel darts around his desk, darts up from his seat, and climbs into his lap, crying softly in the side of his neck, stuttering out a mantra of _'please papa'_. He wraps his arms around him, rubbing at his back soothingly, reaching up to rub at the back of his head gently, scratching at his scalp comfortingly. "Alright, alright, we'll have to make some room, you can come stay with me. I don't have time to make any adjustments right now, so you'll just have to stay with me in my room for a while." It only makes the boy cry harder. "It's alright, sshhh, didn't you hear, you can stay with me, I'll tell Annabelle about the change of plans tomorrow morning when you're scheduled to be released." He hums softly, rubbing at his back soothingly. "Sshhh, sshhh, you're alright, papa's here, settle down, little zebra, sshhh, sshhh, hush now, it's alright."

"I jus' wan' you papa!"

"I know, didn't you hear me, you can stay with me." He pulls the boy back slightly, patting his chest lightly, lifting his chin to look him in the eye. "You can stay with me. You need to calm down, if you keep going on like this, you're bound to make yourself sick, and you don't want that, it'll be yucky." Zazriel shakes his head feverishly. "Then, you need to calm down, it's alright, you can come stay with me, I'll make the room for you. You're small," he pokes him in the belly and the boy gives him a watery giggle in return. "You won't take up so much room." He pokes him in the belly again and reaches up to poke him on the nose, eliciting another watery giggle, the sobs dying down, he's very good at calming down young distraught angels, he's very good at calming down any distraught angels, it's part of his charm. "There we go, no more tears, unless they're happy tears, then there can be more tears." He wiggles a finger into his lower belly, just under his belly button, and the boy giggles again, sucking in his belly. "You can come stay with me. Annabelle would be more then happy to take someone else, you're not the only one being released tomorrow morning."

"Stay with you, papa?"

"Yes," he nods slightly. "You can come stay with papa. You'll stay in my room for now, until I can expand again, it might be a short while, I'm rather busy at the moment, and just don't have the time." Thaddues pokes him in the belly again and the boy giggles once more, reaching down to swat at his hand, and he pokes him again in retaliation for swatting at his hand, sliding his hand up under his issued tunic, and wiggles a finger in his belly button lightly, the boy shrieks softly and squirms, leaning back against the arm curled around him. "It'll give us time to play some giggle games together. I've been rather neglectful to you, and I'm sorry, I've been rather neglectful of everyone at the moment. I'm just _very _busy right now. I've got a _lot _going on."

Zazriel sniffles softly. "Too busy for cuddles?"

"I'm never too busy for cuddles, we can have lots of cuddles, especially at bed time, we're sharing a bed for now, and I _love _giving cuddles." He pulls his hand out from under the boy's tunic. "I must warn you, I have quite a few kids, and in order to split my free time between you all evenly, there are days where I won't be able to give you as much attention as I do now, if I take you in, you'll have to share my time with the others."

It makes the little angel pout slightly, but he nods, hugging his lion again. "Still get cuddles at bedtime though, right?"

"Lots of cuddles at bedtime, little zebra." He pokes him on the nose lightly. "It's just you and me after everyone's tucked in for the night." He pats his lion upwards. "Give your lion a big hug, he's sad that you were so sad."

Zazriel sniffles, hugging his stuffed lion tightly.

"Good, now give him a kiss."

He kisses the top of it's fluffy head.

"Tell him you're okay now."

He nods, pulling the lion away slightly, looking into it's bead eyes. "I'm okay now, Leopold."

Thaddeus smiles. "Is that what you named him?"

The young angel nods lightly. "Mhmm. His name's _'Leopold'_. I thought just _'Leo' _was too cliché."

"Cliché?" He wiggles his fingers in the little angel's belly again and he shrieks softly, squirming in his lap. "That's rather unique word for such a little angel, do you know what it means?"

"Yehehes! Pahahapa!"

He pauses his assault. "What's it mean, zebra?"

"A trite, stereotyped expression; a sentence or phrase, usually expressing a popular or common thought or idea, that has lost originality, ingenuity, and impact by long overuse."

Thaddeus narrows his eyes at him and starts his light playful assault back up. "You looked that up, didn't you, you little sneak."

Zazriel shrieks softly, giggling boisterously, nodding feverishly.

"I thought so." The Warden pokes him in the belly and pulls his hand away. "How about we go take your furry friends upstairs so we can move you right on up tomorrow morning."

"I still have to sleep in my cell, papa?"

He rubs a finger over the boy's chin. "You're still a prisoner until tomorrow morning, and prisoners sleep in their cells until they're released, unless there are extenuating circumstances."

"There's extenuating circumstances, papa."

He smiles at him. "Nice try, zebra."

The boy pouts lightly. "But, what about cuddles, papa?"

"How about this, you're officially released at six in the morning, how about I come bring you upstairs then, we don't open for the day until ten in the morning, we can have cuddles between six and ten. That's four hours of cuddles."

"What if I'm still sleeping, papa?"

"I'm strong." He flexes his right arm playfully and the boy giggles softly. "I'll carry you up." He lower's his arm, curling it around his waist. "Sound like a plan?"

Zazriel nods lightly. "I like that plan."


	362. Making Friends

He grumbles to himself under his breath as he looks about the room, cursing anyones name he can think of, the guards who dragged him down here and strapped him to the table, removing his tunic and his boots, he didn't wear socks, he cursed the Warden, oh, he cursed him numerous times, going out of his way to make that man's life a living hell, just because he could, and he knew at the end of the day he'd get away with it. He falls silent when he hears the sound of bootsteps coming down the hall outside the door, the door handle turns, and the door squeaks as it's pushed open.

In steps the man he curses to oblivion, a smile on his face, and he turns as he pushes the door closed behind him. In his right hand he holds the handle of a bucket, and he leans over as he sets it down, standing back straight to smile at him. "I've been looking forward to this moment, Hamaliel, for a long while now." He rubs his hands together. "This is my time to get you back for all the _trouble _you've been giving me."

He growls lowly, tugging at his binds, waving his arms and kicking his legs. "Let me go and face me like a man!"

"But you're _not_ a man." The Warden steps forward, leaving his bucket where it lays for the time being, they had plenty of time for it, this was his time, no one would interrupt him, this prisoner was at his complete and utter mercy. "You're just a _boy._" He comes to stand at the edge of the table, reaching up to poke him on the nose lightly, raising his finger when he tries to bite him. "Watch it, buster, you're not the only one here who bites. You've been a right pain in my ass, do you _know _how much paperwork I've had to do because of you, let me tell you, it was quite a bit."

"Untie me, you asshole!" Hamaliel tugs at his binds again. "You should be scared! I'd kick your ass!"

"I'm not scared of you." Thaddeus intones calmly. "This just makes it easier for me. I don't need you restrained to have my way with you. It just makes it easier to have you in this position." He makes a particular expression, shaking his head. "I don't think you could. I'd enjoy the match, but it would be rather unfair, you wouldn't stand a chance."

"I could take you! I'm tougher then I look! You wouldn't stand a chance, you bastard!"

"You really have some inappropriate language, little one, it's rather distasteful." He scolds softly, and looks him over, smiling at his belly. Hamaliel follows his gaze and frowns, growling as he struggles again, he'd wipe that smile off his face, just wait until he got out of here. "I don't know about being tough, you look pretty soft to me, fluffy even." He pokes a finger into his belly, he's got a bit of pudge, he's a bit more rounded then most of his other prisoners, from what he's heard, this one never missed a meal, he was glad, he didn't want any of his prisoners to miss any meals, he's heard this one always asks for seconds too, he doesn't mind, the cooks always make more then enough. "You feel pretty soft to me." He pokes around his belly playfully, randomly, making sure not to make any sort of particular pattern. "Pretty squishy." He shakes his head again. "Not so tough."

"Are you making fun of my weight, you dickwad?"

"Heaven's no!" He shakes his head once more, rather firmly, Thaddeus looks up at him, pausing in his poking. "I would never. All I'm saying is that you feel pretty soft to me. I'm not fooled by this rough exterior, I think you and me, we're going to grow rather close, we're going to have a good time together."

"Never!"

"Oh, I think we are. We're going to be great friends." He picks up his poking once more, poking around his belly with his index fingers, taking note of the way he squirms under him. "I just know it. We have to get passed that rough exterior first. You're really squishy, I love that."

"I'm not fat!" Hamaliel spits at him. "Stop making fun of me, asshole!"

"I'm not making fun of you, Hama."

"Don't call me that!"

"Why?"

"Because we're not friends!"

Thaddeus hums. "But we're going to be, you can call me _'Thaddy'_." He pokes around his lower belly, over the little roll under his belly button, focusing on that spot for a bit when he noticeably tried to suck in his belly. "I'm not making fun of you. I think you being the way you are makes you even more adorable, this attitude you have amuses me immensely, no matter how much work it causes me, and you just being a squishy little marshmallow makes it even better." He wiggles a finger under his belly button lightly. "One of my favorite guards is a bit on the chubbier side, he makes amazing cookies, it's a true talent, I'll have to save you one the next time he makes a batch."

Hamaliel bites his lip, trying to suck in his belly away from that irritating finger, squirming his hips from side to side. "Quit it!"

"Why?" He smiles up at the young prisoner. "A wee bit on the ticklish side?"

"No!" The youth squeaks quickly. "It's just irritating!"

"I think it's because you're a wee bit on the ticklish side." The Warden hums softly, dipping a finger into his belly button, wiggling it around lightly, and the boy squeaks again, biting his lip as he sucks in his belly again. "And I'm _never _wrong about that." He smiles when he hears them, soft giggles, swallowed by the biting of the lip, but he hears them. "Are those little giggles I'm hearing? From this _big bad _little prisoner of mine. I think you're all bark and no bite, that's what I think, I think you're just a soft little marshmallow who's been through a rough time so you've grown rough around the edges as a means of protecting yourself," he looks him in the eyes, the youth glares at him, and he smiles. "Tell me if I'm wrong."

The youth simply glares at him, biting his lip, trying to swallow those soft little giggles he _knows _are there.

Thaddeus smiles down at him. "You keep glaring as hard as you are, and your face is going to freeze like that." He continues to glare at him. "Let's wipe that glare off your face." He digs his fingers into his belly suddenly, leaning over him slightly, and he jolts, involuntarily shrieking in surprise, laughter bubbling out of him as a smile stretches over his features. "Ah, there's a smile. I knew you were capable of one. It was just hidden under all that bark."

"Eehehehehhehehehe stoohohohohop! Aahahahahhahahaa yohohohou ahahahhaasshole!"

"No, no, no, Hama." He wiggles his fingers in deep, really digging into the pudge, and the youth throws his head back as he shrieks with laughter. "I told you to call me _'Thaddy'."_

_"Ahahahhahaaasshole!"_

_"Thaddy." _He stands up again, wiggling his fingers around the shaking belly, savoring in the laughter it produces. "I feel like my little marshmallow has been insulted because of his little belly and that's why you were so adamant I was making fun of you, because you've been made fun of before." He wiggles his fingers over to the right side of his belly and stays there for a moment. "I don't know how anyone could be mean to a cute little marshmallow." He then wiggles his fingers over to the left and focuses there. "I think it's perfect." He wiggles his fingers down to his lower belly and digs into the little belly roll.

"Aaaahahahahhahahahahaha! Nohohohoho! Nohohohoot theheheheheheeereehehehehehehe! Ahahhahahahahahhahaa nohohohot thehehehehehere! Pleheheheheheease!"

"Did you just say something polite?" He pauses. "Something akin to manners?"

Hamaliel glares up at him, trying to swallow his residual giggles. "Ahahasshole!"

The Warden digs back in and the youth shrieks brightly. "I guess not. Is it bad right here?"

"Nohohohot theheheheheeheere! Ahahahahahaha ahahhahahahahahha nohohohot theheheheheere! Aahahahahahhahahaha eehehheheaeaaahahahahahhahaa pleheheheheease! Aahahahahahahahhahahahahaa!"

"This is a wonderful development. I _knew _you weren't all hot air. I knew it." He pulls away from his belly and the boy giggles breathlessly. "What about here?" He digs into the meat of his left thigh and the boy squeals lightly, bright boisterous laughter erupting from him, it echoes around the room, and he chuckles lightly. "This is a good spot." He reaches down under his leg. "One of my boys has a really special spot right here." He digs a finger into the inner undercurve of his left cheek, and the boy's eyes widen, as he screams with laughter, lifting himself from the table. He jumps around, bouncing in place, clenching up and tensing, until he falls limp, shrieking and squealing with laughter, pounding his legs against the table. "This seems to be a rather special spot for you too, hmm, who would have known."

"IEIEIEIEIEIAIIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA GEHEHEEEEHEHEHEHEHET IHIHIHIHIHIT OHOHOHOHOUT! EIEIAAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHHAHA AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA GEHEHEHEHET IHIHIHIHIT OHHOHOHOHOHOHOUT! THAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAADDDYYYYY! EEIEIEIEIEIEIAIAIAIAAAHHAHAHAHAAHHAAHA PLEHEHEHEHHEHEHEEASE! EIEIEAIAIAIHAHAHAHAHAHHAA GEEHEHEHHEHET IHIHIHIHIIT OHOHOHOHOHOUT! THAHAHHAHAHAHAAHADDDYYYYYY PLEHEHEHEHHEEEASE!"

"You said _'please' _again, _and _you called me _'Thaddy'_." He pulls his finger away and the boy falls limp, all movement comes to a halt, and he giggles breathlessly, a smile stretched over his features, he doesn't have the will to glare, all he can do is giggle in anticipation, thinking about what was going to happen next. Thaddeus returns into his line of sight, leaning above him, his hands resting between his arms, next to his head. "I knew you were a soft little marshmallow, we just had to get passed that nasty bark you have, you're just a little puppy hiding behind it." He giggles up at him and the Warden smiles. "My, my, someone's got a case of the giggles now, haven't they."

"Thahahahhaaddy!"

He smiles down at him. "Are we friends now, Hama?" The boy giggles up at him and nods slightly. "I told you we would be." He looks him over. "Let's explore a bit more, shall we?" Hamaliel shakes his head and he hums. "I want to, and what I want, I get. This is what you get for being such a pain in my ass for the last month."

"Sohohohorry!"

"Not yet you're not." He leans over his right armpit. "What about these armpits, how are they?" Hamaliel shakes his head and tilts to the side. "I growl too, you growled at me quite a bit, marshmallow, want to see what happens when I growl at you?" The boy shakes his head, squealing when he rushes down and buries his face into his right armpit, growling playfully as he shakes his head. He presses a wave of playful kisses, and the boy shrieks, twisting his arm around, he takes a deep breath and blows a massive raspberry, and the youth screeches, he feels fingers curl around the end of his pony tail and tug, and it makes him chuckle. He reaches up with his left hand to grab the youth's fingers, pulling his hair out of their grasp, and blows another massive raspberry.

"EEIEIIAIAIAIAIAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA THAHAHAHAHAHAHADDDYYYY! AAHAHAHAHHAEEIEIEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHA NOHOHOHOHOHO GEHEHEHEHEET OHHOHOHOHOUT! GEHEHEHHEHEET OHOHOHHOHOHOUUTTT! AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAEIEIEIAIAIAAIHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE! AAHAHAHAHAHAHAAEEEHEHEHHEAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA!"

Thaddeus chuckles as he pulls away from his armpit, and he giggles wildly as they make eye contact gain, shaking his head again. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you marshmallow?" He pokes him on the nose again and steps away, pushing away from the table, and returns to the bucket he brought with him. "I want to give those feet a try, but I heard you don't wear socks, so we've got to clean them up a bit."

Hamaliel wiggles his feet as he crosses down to the end of the table, wiggling his toes as the Warden sets the steaming bucket of water on the table between his feet. He watches him roll his sleeves up and reaches into the bucket, withdrawing a scrub brush. "Let's give these feet a good scrubbing." He watches as the man curls his fingers around his toes of his left foot and pulls them back, and he throws his head back, squealing with laughter as he scrubs vigorously at his foot. He kicks his leg, twisting it this way and that, shaking his head feverishly from side to side. "Get this foot all cleaned up."

"EIEIEIAIAIAAIHAHHAHAHAHAHAA NOHOHOHOHO NOHOHOHOHOT THAHHAHAHHHAHAHAHAAAT! AHAHAHAHHHEHEHEEIEIEIIEIAAIAIAHAHAHHAHAHAHA STOHOHHOOP STOHOHHOHOP! EIEIIEIAIAAIHAHAHAHHAHAAA AAAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAAA! IHIHIHIHHIT'S CLEHEHEHEHEHEAN! IHIHIHIHIT'S CLEHEHEHEHEHHEEAN!"

"Are you sure?"

"YEHEHEHEHHEES! YEHEHEHEHHES! THAHAHAHHAAADDYYYYY! EIEIEIEIAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHA IHIHIHIHITS CLEHEHEHEHEAN!"

"Alrighty." He hears the scrub brush drop back into the water, and squeals again when he feels him begin nibbling at his toes, kicking his foot as best as he can with it in his grasp. "I told you I bite." He shrieks with laughter as he nibbles away, for what feels like an eternity, until he pulls away. He giggles feverishly as the Warden turns away from him, depositing the bucket down on the table behind him, next to his folded tunic and boots.

He crosses around to stand at his waist. "Before we finish here, let me show you what will happen if you _ever _give me so much trouble again." He reaches down under him, and Hamaliel's eyes widen, he shakes his head quickly, and lifts himself from the table, two fingers curl into the inner undercurve of both cheeks and dig in, and he screeches with laughter, dropping back down to the table. He bounces around, wiggling around, cackling brightly, lifting from the table again before throwing himself back down. "If you _ever _give me as much trouble as you've given me in the last month again, I'll turn you over, and have a go at this _really _special spot for an _hour_, do you understand me?"

"YEEEEEEEHEHEHEHEHHEES! YEHEHEHEHHEES! EEEEEIEIEIAIIAIAIAIAAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAH GEEHEHEHEHEHEHET THEEHEHEHEHHEEM OHHOHOHOHOHOHOUT PLEHEHEHEHEHEEEASE! IHIHIHIHI UNDERSTAHAHAHAHHAAND EEIEIEEIEAIAIAIAIAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA THAHAHAHHAHAHAAADDYYYYYY! GEHEHEHEHEHEEET THEHEHEHEHEHEM OHOHOHOOUT! EEIEIEIAAIAIAIAIAAAHAHHAAHAHAHHAA NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHERE NONOHHOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEHEERE! EIEIEIEIAIAIAIAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHIHIHI'LL BEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHAVE! EIEIEIEAIIAIAAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!"

He digs in one last time and pulls away, coming to lean over the panting giggling boy, he smiles, wiping away tears with his thumbs, Hamaliel giggles up at him semi deliriously. "I'll take you at your word, you giggly little marshmallow." He reaches up above his head. "I think we've come to an understanding." And carefully unstraps his wrists, curling his arms down around his belly, before he leans back over him. "We're friends now, right, Hama?"

The boy giggles softly, nodding slightly, and he smiles. "Good. I'm happy we're friends." He leans down to unstrap his ankles. "Let's get you up." He slides his arms around his shoulders and under his knees and lifts him from the table. "You're not just as soft as a marshmallow, you're as light as one too."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Hamaliel mumbles against his shoulder. "I was so mean to you."

"I never take it personally." He carries the worn little prisoner around the corner and into his office, where the cots made up and the blankets are pulled back, waiting for it's newest visitor. "It's much easier to be nice then it is to be mean." He leans over, depositing him down on the cot, tucking the blankets up under his chin. "Makes me more likeable too."

"I'm sorry I was so mean to you, Thaddy."

"It's alright." He brushes his hair back fondly. "I understand." And pokes him on the nose lightly. "You take a good nap and I'll wake you when it's supper time, alright?"

Hamaliel nods lightly. "Okay, Thaddy."


	363. Morning Routine

He wakes early that morning when the bed shifts, and he blinks his eyes open, squinting in the lamp light, watching the older angel run his fingers through his short blonde hair, stretching as he stands from the bed. He crosses the room and pulls the door of the wardrobe open, reaching in for a clean tunic, he slowly pulls it on, he reaches into one of the shelves, pulling on a pair of trousers, and wraps a leather belt around his waist. Grabbing a pair of socks, he turns, and smiles when their eyes meet.

"Good morning, Raha." He whispers, as to not disturb the sleeping youth resting on top of the elder. "What are you doing up so early?"

Rahatiel shrugs lightly. "Old habits die hard."

Abraxos purses his lips. "No death jokes."

"Sorry, I honestly hadn't intended for that." The younger Power shrugs again. "I guess I'm just used to it."

"That's understandable." He runs his fingers through his curls lightly. "Try and get some more sleep, you don't have to be awake this early, not anymore." He gestures to the sleeping youth resting on top of him. "Besides, it doesn't appear your little brother is going to be waking up for a while."

"Yea, he's not an early riser." Rahatiel looks down at his little brother, sleeping peacefully on top of him, his stuffed starfish pressed under his nose, Sablo had never been a morning person. He never been so open with Abe either, he was still rather shy, and often claimed that the only reason he slept with the elder Power was being Rahatiel did, but they weren't fooled, he fell asleep between them, curled around the older Power's arm, he was shy, and Abe had an abundance of patience. "I'll wake him up in a little bit. We slept until _noon _yesterday."

Abraxos chuckles softly. "Let him get his sleep. It's rare for him to sleep so much."

"I know," Rahatiel frowns lightly. "He has nightmares sometimes and he never says anything." He pets the younger angel's curls back. "He's too shy to, shy little thing."

"Yes, but he's our shy little thing." The older Power rubs a finger over the youth's cheek. "And we're working on it, he called me _'papa' _yesterday at breakfast, well, lunch, but all the same."

"I bet you were over the moon."

"It made me happy, I'll admit it."

Rahatiel smiles slightly, petting a hand down the back of his little brother's head, but doesn't look up to see the Power above him. "It made you _'happy', _sure, I'll believe you were just _'happy'_."

"Watch yourself, Raha, you're pushing a fine line." The Power warns playfully, wagging a finger at the younger angel, though his smiles alleviates any heat behind it. "If he weren't sleeping on you, I'd show you just how _'happy' _I was."

"I'm shaking in my pajamas, I really am."

Abraxos chuckles softly, pinching his nose lightly. "Have you always been this cheeky, or has time simply made my heart grow fonder?"

"You know you _love _me."

"I do." The Power admits with hesitation. "With all my heart." He rubs a knuckle under his chin lightly. "Get some more sleep. It's still early."

"I don't think I can. I'll probably just read a book or something until Sablo wakes up."

"Oh, no you won't mister." Abraxos curls his fingers around the older boy's forehead. "You're going to get some sleep." It may be cheating, but he uses a bit of his grace, urging him to sleep gently.

Rahatiel blinks widely, his eyelids drooping, and he frowns softly. "Cheater."

"I'm not a cheater." He smiles, stroking his curls back gently, watching as his eyes slowly close. "I'm resourceful."

The younger Power licks his lips lightly. "Mmmm…..G'night, papa."

"Goodnight, little rabbit."

He watches the youth's eyes flutter closed and smiles, leaning over to turn down the lamp, and turns, making his way to the door. Puriel would be awake by the time those two awoke and he'd make them both some breakfast.

"Hey, Abe." He turns to see who's greeted him, and this early, with that young of a voice. "Good morning, Chayy." He pauses, tilting his head as he gazes back down at the boy. "I thought you said you were sleeping with me last night?"

Chayyliel nods lightly, looking down to his fingers. "I was….But I didn't want to come between you and Raha."

"This phase has not passed yet?" He frowns in concern. "You know Raha would have let you sleep between us."

"I know…I guess." The boy fiddles with his fingers. "I just didn't want to come between your guys. You've had me back longer then you've had him back."

He purses his lips. "That's nonsense and you know it. You'd asked if you could sleep with me last night and I said you could, I wouldn't have given you my confirmation if I hadn't meant it."

"I'm sorry, papa."

"No use being sorry, no harm done, you'll just come sleep with me the next _two _nights." He smiles down at the youth, ruffling his hair lightly, nudging him towards his room. "It's much too early for you to be up, you go on in and curl up with Raha and Sab, and get some more sleep."

Chayyliel smiles up at him. "Okay, papa." He bounces forward, and he watches him push the door to his room open and bounce in, cracking the door behind him. Shaking his head, the older Power steps forward, down the hall for the kitchen, and makes himself a bowl of warm oats. Training until four today, between noon and four was when it was warmest, and he was counting down the minutes until he could return and cuddle up with his boys, perhaps he'd drag Puri (and subsequently Tus) in with them, their own little family back together again, they all needed some quality time together.

He'd guilt the medic into it, he still felt bad for being so cross with Sablo last week, he'd do anything to make it up to their baby Power.

"What phase is the chameleon going through?"

He turns at the sound of his Captain's voice, smiling to him in greeting, taking a bite of his oats. "He seems to think Raha's taking his place and shies away."

"Raha would never do that."

"We know that, but he doesn't think so, I'd thought it had passed through, but apparently not."

"Ahh." Nisroc chooses an apple for his breakfast. "What are you going to do about this?"

He takes another bite of his oats. "We're going to spend time together, the four of us."

"Four?"

"Raha won't let Sab leave his side. He's a tad on the protective side."

"A tad?"

"Hey, someone needs to give Sab that sort of protection, don't forget, Raha has been with him since the day he was born. He's been through all the good _and _the bad."

"Touche, I meet your point." Nisroc nods lightly, taking the final bite of his apple, and tosses the core into the waste basket. "What are you going to do with them, your bed isn't big enough to house all of them."

"I thought we'd move to the Lounge, more room that way."

"Makes sense to me."

Abraxos nods, setting his bowl down in the sink and pouring some water inside to let it soak, turning back to look at his older brother, he nods again, gesturing to the stairs down to the training field below. "Shall we?"


	364. Never Alone

They watched in silence as their Captain carried him up the stairs to the Infirmary, where the Healer and Egyptian waited for him, to prepare their lost brother for his pyre, his hands hung limply at the oldest Power's side, his blonde head tucked against his shoulder, one might mistaken him for sleeping had they not been there to witness it for themselves.

Nisroc maintained a stony presence, keeping his expression neutral as he passed their fallen brother to the Healer, and Raphael bowed his head, turning into his Infirmary with their fallen comrade. Anubis uttered something, in his native language, and made a gesture with his hands, before turning to follow after his elder, to prepare the body for the send off in the next three days, three days that would go by much too quick and much too slow, all at once.

It was an odd occurrence, where the Egyptian was called upon to prepare them for their send off, it was usually something that was given to Azrael, as was his duty, but the Archangel of Death had thrown a fit and sealed himself in the Throne Room with their Father the moment word had made it's way home that there had been a fatal blow drawn against one of their own.

Sablo tries to catch his eye when he descends the stairs, clutching at his brother's hand, it had been for him the blow had been taken, the one that took him from them, it had made his sacrifice to save his life, and in doing so, had given his own.

He bows his head silently, when he finally catches a quick glimpse of those steely eyes, they bore into his for a moment before leaving, looking ahead once more, and their Captain brushes passed him without a word, making his way in the direction of their home. The others watch him go for a moment, and then their attention turns to their youngest member, Sablo inhales a deep shaky breath and squeezes his brother's hand, Rahatiel glares at them all until they look away, and the elder guides him around, guiding him down the path towards their home, in their Captain's wake.

The guilt weighs heavily on his heart, he knows he was chosen to replace the second oldest Power, but he'd never thought it would be so soon, he'd been an official Power for less then a year, he wasn't prepared to take his place yet, he was still working things out, he still made too many mistakes, still had so much to learn. He'd barely just got used to calling him _'papa' _without his older brother urging him to, he'd just started opening up to the man, getting passed his shyness when it came to spending time with him. He should have been smarter, should have been better, he was a _Power _for God's sake, he shouldn't have been so _vulnerable_.

The others tiptoe around him, it's as if he's cursed, plagued, and they don't want to catch it. Perhaps their Captain's ire is a plague, and he's been infected, he'd been prepared for the blow, readied himself for it, and then _he'd _been there, standing in front of him, their eyes staring at each other, and then the light faded from the blue that bore into his brown. Chayyliel had retreated from him for a while, he was truly cursed, his older brother was the only one who stood by him, always holding his hand, squeezing reassuringly.

He was plagued.

Standing in the middle of his room, it feels so empty, he simply looks around, at the items strewn about, the book resting on the nightstand that he was in the midst of reading, the half empty glass of water sitting next to it, the basket of laundry that still needed to be put away, the hamper of dirty clothes that needed washed, the mess of clutter that would have been put away and cleaned up come the weekend. He can feel his other half in the doorway, he knows when he appears, and his hands shake as he leans over to pick up the basket of clean clothes, and sets it on the bed, as he reaches for the first shirt, and folds it neatly, just how Abe liked it.

"Little brother, what are you doing?" He feels Rahatiel come up behind him, watching him fold the second shirt silently with his shaking hands. "Why are you folding his laundry?"

"Because….Because he'll be upset that it's all crinkled when he gets back."

"Little brother—"

"He'll be back, big brother, he'll be back and he'll be upset by the wrinkles."

"Little brother, he's not coming back." Rahatiel reaches around him and lifts the folded shirt from his hands, Sablo stares at his shaking hands, breathing picking up softly. "He's not coming back."

"Why?" He turns, looking up at his older brother with teary eyes. "Why? You came back? Father brought you back, why not him? Why'd he save me, Raha? Why'd he do that? They all hate me now! It should have been me, not him, it should have been me!"

"Don't say that, Sab, you know he'd never let you come to harm if he could help it, he loved you too much."

"It should have been _me_, Raha!" He finally breaks, that damn that had been cracking since the day before finally cracking under the pressure, and tears cascade down his cheeks. "It _should _have been _me!"_

Rahatiel doesn't say anything, he knows no words he speaks will get through to him, he merely curls him in his arms, pulling him in close, because if no one else would, then he would do it, he would hold him while he broke.

…

Azrael still hadn't come out of the Throne Room when it came time to set him on the pyre, he wasn't the one to deliver last rites, it was his Egyptian counterpart who filled the role in his absence.

Sablo holds in his tears as he carries the board on his shoulders, his mentor's hand is right there, right next to him, he can see the glinting of the sun off the gold bands he wears around his fingers, he stares at it, willing it to move, to give any indication of life, he's not ready for this, he's not ready to replace him yet. But the hand doesn't move, it just lays there, limp against the board, and before he knows it, they're sliding it up on the pyre's bed. He steps back with the others, standing between Puriel and Rahatiel, his brother slips his hand into his own, squeezing firmly, comfortingly, as their Commander speaks. With every word he says, he can feel his eyes on him, their cut into him like knives, and he looks down to his feet, staring at his boots.

The only one who's even offered him comfort in these last three days is the one holding his hand, Rahatiel had been with him from the very moment it happened, the others avoided him, they skirted around him, even Puriel, they pretended he wasn't there. When he came into the room, the conversations hushed, when he sat at the table, they scooted away from him, it was as if he was sick. He had a contagious disease that would contaminate them if they got too close. Rahatiel sat next to him at meals, he served him, when the others didn't move to do so, he held him when he broke in the middle of the night.

He'd been there the moment he felt the smooth slice of a blade on his wrist. He hadn't done it in years. He'd broken that streak.

He was an outcast now, shunned, contagious, death loomed over him like an unwanted storm cloud.

The pyre's lit, Hasmal looks so sad, and it's all his fault.

Nisroc steps around the blazing pyre, coming to stand before him, and he looks up, hesitantly, to meet his eyes. "His death rests on your shoulders. Had you not been so blind, he would still be here with us, it is because of you he is not."

…

It's three days later that Rahatiel finally snaps, after catching him in the middle of his task, trying to deny what he had been doing despite the red blood dripping down his fingers and the sting he knows his counterpart can feel just as clearly as he can, he corners them all in the Lounge, but his irritation is directed to their Captain, the reason for the ostracization. "He would be ashamed of you!"

"Raha—"

"He would be _ashamed _of you!" He barks out harshly, thrusting a finger into the taller Power's chest, his anger was a sight to behold, his anger was like his mentor's, once it boiled over, it was like lava rolling down the sides of a volcano. "He made his decision, _he _made the decision to jump in for Sab, _him_, and he made that decision because he loved his protégé with all his heart, _and _because he knew you'd take care of him in the wake of his passing! He would be _ashamed!_"

Nisroc steps forward, threateningly, but the younger Power isn't fazed, he steps forward too, meeting him half way, and opens his arms slightly as though to say _'what are you going to do?'_. "He's the reason _he's _dead!"

"He's the reason _he lived!_" He shouts right back. "Abe lost _all _of us! Only _one _out of _three _of his Elects fulfilled what he claimed them for! When he chose Sab, it gave him reason again, it gave him _hope_! No one _makes _us do anything, Abe _made _the decision _himself_, Sab _couldn't _make him do anything, unless you think him to be _weak_!"

"I would never—"

"He would be _ashamed _of you!" He looks to the ones behind their Captain. "He would be _ashamed _of you _all_! Some _family _this is! You're _Captain_," he spits as his eyes turn back to the oldest. "Dies and everyone bands together, but your second dies, _saving _someone he _loved _with all his heart, and you _shun_ him! He would be _ashamed! _You're all a _disgrace, _you're all _shameful, _he would be so _ashamed_!" He thrusts a finger back in their Captain's chest harshly. "You better get your head out of your _ass _before you _lose _them both! Unless that's what you're hoping, that's what you want, isn't it, eye for an eye, right? You think Sab killed Abe, life for a life, if you lose him, you lose me, Abe will perish all over again, and _all _three lives would be on _your _hands." He throws one last glance around, when he feels the sting on his wrist, turning slightly. "Abe would be so _ashamed _of you all."

…

Sablo hears the door open in the middle of the night, and he mumbles softly, rubbing his eyes with a bandaged fist as light pours into his room, his mentor's room, he's slept in here since his passing, he's kept it tidy, cleaned up the clutter, hung his clean clothes, made sure everything was kept in perfect order. He rubs his eyes again when a shape moves in the darkness, sitting up slightly in bed, he feels his brother draw nearer, sees him stand in the doorway, and he blinks as the dark shape takes form as it draws closer, and blinks again. "A—Abe?"

"Hello, starfish." _He _smiles at him softly, reaching out to brush his hair back behind his ear, reaching for his left arm gently. "I am _so _sorry." He presses his lips to his bandaged wrist. "I am so, _so, _sorry."

"Papa?" His voice breaks lightly, he sounds much younger then he wants to, but he can't help it, he feels about as small as a fledgling as he stares into those familiar blue eyes. "W—What? But…But I watched….You..You _died_!"

"I did." The second oldest Power nods lightly, standing slightly to sit on the edge of the bed next to him, holding his arm in his lap. "You burned a vessel. I was already with Father in the Throne Room. Azrael threw a fit, Death is on…Well….A vacation….And left Azrael in charge. He threw a fit and refused to reap me. Father had no choice but to send me back."

"You're…You're back?" He blinks again. "For good?"

"I'm not going anywhere, starfish, I'm not going anywhere any time soon."

Sablo tears up slightly. "Why'd you do it, papa? Why'd you do it? It should have been me; it should have been me, papa! Everyone hates me now, everyone ignores me, they pretend I don't exist!"

"I know, little starfish, papa knows, and he'll take care of that after he takes care of you. I would never willingly let harm come to you if I can stop it, I would give my life for yours ten times over, one hundred times over, an eternity times over, if it meant protecting you." Abraxos nods firmly. "I'm to go before you do, not the other way around." Sablo's eyes widen so he amends. "Not any time soon though."

The second oldest Power turns towards the door. "Go get Chayy, Raha, let's all get some sleep."

Their second youngest Power nods, turning away from them, he disappears down the hall. Abraxos turns back to the youngest, kissing his wrist again. "We'll talk about this come morning."

"I'm sorry, papa, I was weak, I couldn't…I couldn't help it."

"You have absolutely nothing to apologize for." He climbs in next to him, pulling him up against his side, resting his head on his chest. "Nothing at all."

…

"I'm deeply disappointed in you, Puriel." Where they had once been tiptoeing around the youngest Power, they were now tiptoeing around the second oldest, Abraxos' rage was palpable, he wasn't sparring anyone in his tirade of vengeance. He'd made Haniel cry, he felt bad for making him cry, but watching Rahatiel wrap new bandages around the youngest Power's wrist had steeled his resolve, they'd driven his young charge to his breaking point, ones he'd been told countless times he was supposed to be able to trust, they'd betrayed him. He was livid. "You turned your back on your youngest brother when he needed you most."

"I'm sorry, papa! I'm sorry!" Puriel steps forward, as though for a hug, and he shakes his head, taking a step back, tears make the medic's eyes glisten. "Papa, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, papa! I was scared! Nis was so mad! I didn't want him to be mad at me too!"

"So you what, thought to throw your youngest brother to the wind in favor of keeping Nisroc's favor?"

He nods ashamedly. "I did! I did, papa, and I'm sorry! I'd take it back if I could! I was wrong!"

Abraxos nods firmly. "Damn right you were, I taught you better then that, you were selfish and self-absorbed, not once putting his feelings above your own, I had trusted you to take care of him when I am gone, and now I can clearly see that my trust was misplaced."

The medic shakes his head feverishly, stepping forward again, tears dripping down his cheeks when his mentor takes another step back. "No! No, you can trust me, papa! You can! I swear you can! I messed up, I know I messed up, I'm sorry papa! Please forgive me, papa, please, I'm sorry! I'm really sorry!"

The second oldest Power eyes him contemplatively, he understands not wanting Nisroc's ire to be turned on oneself, he understands the need for self-preservation, but he also understands the consequences that had come from such callous behavior. "No sweets for two months—"

"_Two!" _

His glare silences any complaints before they can be voiced. "No sweets for _two _months. You are grounded to your quarters for the duration of those two months, you may come out to complete your duties, and as soon as those are completed, you return there, you may come out for the bathroom, and then you will return."

"Wh—What about supper?"

"Supper will be served to you in your room."

Puriel nods feverishly, stepping forward again, he really wants a hug, he wants his mentor to hold him, he though he'd lost him forever. Abraxos shakes his head and raises a hand, staying him in his tracks, and the medic whines softly, a fresh wave of tears dripping from his eyes. "You are to be in bed by ten, I don't care how long it takes you to fall asleep, but you will be in bed by ten. I will check on you, at ten on the dot, and if you are not in bed, we will add another day to your grounding, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, papa!" He nods again, this time he doesn't step forward, he takes his loss with tears. "Yes, I understand!"

"Good," he finally opens his arms, and the medic surges forward, curling around his mentor tightly. "I'm so sorry, papa, I'm sorry! Please forgive me! Please! I missed you so much! I thought I'd never see you again!"

"I know, sshhh, sshhh." Abraxos pets the back of his head, running his fingers down the back of his neck soothingly. "Papa's got you, I'm right here, you're alright." He tilts his head slightly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I forgive you, platypus, I know you didn't mean to hurt him, I know you didn't."

He'd offered Titus comfort, he couldn't place blame on him, retreating from everyone was how he dealt with his grief, everyone deals with it differently, he knows that. He hadn't left Sablo alone for the same reason the others had, he'd been grieving in his own way, and that wasn't something he could fault him for.

…

"Papa! Papa, stop! Hurts! It hurts!"

His cries break his heart, and he knows it destroys Rahatiel as he holds him still so he can clean the nasty gashes on his wrists, he coos softly, dabbing at the last one. "Sshh, it's alright, I'm almost done, just a moment longer." He finishes dabbing at the last one and turns for the bandages next to him, binding them around his right arm, he sets the bottle and rag on his bedside table and reaches out for him. "Come here, come to papa, come here."

Sablo falls forward, into his arms, and he pulls him close, pressing his lips to the side of his head. "You did so good, little starfish, papa's so proud of you." He scoots back against his pillows and he pulls the young baby Power back with him, settling him back against his chest, curling his arms around him, settling him between his legs. Rahatiel pulls the blankets up over them and settles in against his side, he uncurls his left arm from around the younger and curls it around the older, pulling him in close. "We don't need to do that again for another day, we're all done."

The youth sniffles softly, rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand. "Promise?"

"I promise, no more, now we just lay back and relax, perhaps we can take a nap, how does that sound, starfish, are you feeling for a nap?"

"Hold me, papa?"

"Of course, I'll hold you, baby starfish." He squeezes him lightly. "I'll hold you real close." Abraxos' squeezes his hip lightly. "You just relax back and calm yourself down, papa's here, big brother's here," Rahatiel reaches over to rub his arm lightly. "Let's all settle down and take a nap, how's that sound, just the three of us."

"Papa, will you make your yummy spicy chicken for supper?"

He smiles, kissing the side of his head again. "Of course, I will."

"Okay," Sablo settles back, reaching out for one of his big brother's hands, Raha catches his hand and squeezes his fingers lightly, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. "I think I want to take a nap."

The older Power kisses the side of his head again. "I think that's a marvelous idea."

…

Abraxos smiles down at him, laying over his waist, fingers poised up under his top. "Little rabbit, it's been far too long since I've had you in this position."

Rahatiel giggles up at him, squirming slightly from side to side, and falls still when he comes to the realization that he's not going anywhere. "I cohohould have wahahaited a bit lohonger."

"Oh, but this time it's special." He turns to look at the giggling angel next to them, Sablo smiles up at him, a giggly little angel, and he smiles down at him in return. "This time it's a two for one special." He turns his attention back to the one under him. "I want to see just how this bond of yours works." He wiggles his index fingers over his highest rib, Rahatiel squeaks and giggles harder, twisting from side to side, and he looks over to see Sablo, the youngest Power shrieks, the ribs are one of his special spots. "You feel that too, starfish?" Sablo nods vigorously, rubbing at his ribs desperately. "Interesting." The second oldest Power pulls one hand out from under his older Elect's shirt and reaches over to the youngest, sliding his fingers up under the waist of his trousers, clawing his fingers into the sensitive skin under there, this is one of the elders special spots. Sablo shrieks softly and arches his back, and Rahatiel squeals softly, bucking his hips from side to side. He looks back to the older of the two. "You feel that too, rabbit?"

"Yehehehheeessss!"

"Pahahahahhahaappaaahahahhahahaha!"

"Oh, I can already tell this is going to be fun." He turns back to the one under him, Rahatiel giggles feverishly and shakes his head, and he winks down at him playfully. "All I need is _one _of you, and with one of you, I get _both _of you."

"Nohohoho!"

"Pahahhahaapppaahahahahaha nohohoho!"

"Let's investigate this further." He pulls his hand back, and gently pushes the elder boy's shirt up, his belly shakes as he giggles, and he smiles, looking down at the spot. "This belly's missed out on a lot of loving." He lowers his head, pressing a playful kiss over his belly button, and Rahatiel shrieks softly. Sablo giggles harder and covers his belly with his hands, shaking his head at the older Power, Abraxos smiles down at him, as he takes a deep breath, and buries his face into his brother's belly.

They both squeal loudly when he blows out a massive raspberry, and he chuckles softly, taking another deep breath and blowing again. Rahatiel arches his back as he cackles brightly, and Sablo squeals, jolting beside him, curling his arms around his belly, as though that would aid him.

Things have been much too solemn for his taste.

…

"I am ashamed of you." There were very few people who could bring the mighty Captain of the Powers, Commander of Heaven's Armies, to his knees, but his younger brother's disappointment and anger was one of those few things. "I am _ashamed_."

Nisroc bows his head to his younger brother's anger, he knows it's well placed, he'd truly messed things up.

"Is this what I am to expect to happen should I pass before you?" Abraxos steps forward and he takes a step back. "You shun the one who I _chose _to replace me?"

"I'm sorry, Abe, I'm sorry." He mumbles softly, looking down to his feet, not wanting to see the disappointment in the younger Power's eyes. "I was just so upset."

"And you took it out on one of the one's I consider to be a _son_, that would make him your _nephew_, you did that to your own _family_." Abraxos shakes his head. "I don't think I can forgive you for this."

The Captain looks up at him with wide eyes. "Please, Abe, please, I'll do anything for your forgiveness."

"Fine, anything," the second oldest Power crosses his arms tightly. "I want you to go to Michael, and I want you to tell him what you did, and I want you to go through whatever punishment he deems this crime deserves." He stares him down heatedly. "Then, I want you to be the one to clean the deep gashes _you _dug into his wrists, you can listen to him as he sobs from how much the disinfectant stings, I want you to _see _what your callous actions _did_." He jabs him in the chest. "And, when you get _his _forgiveness, and _only _then, will you gain _mine_."


	365. That Time With The Fireworks

"Isaiah!" His head shoots up at the call of his name, just as the fuses of the large rocket fireworks burns up, hands curl around his arms and tug him around, he's pressed to someone's chest as the fireworks go off behind him. The explosions make his ears ring, and the ground rumbles as the large rockets take off, and he peers over his savior's shoulder to watch the colors light up the sky. "What in Gods name were you _thinking_!" A large hand claps over his bottom and he jumps forward, trapping himself against the person as the hand continues to fall again and again. "I told you _no_, child, when I tell you _not _to do something, you are _not _to do it."

"Ow! Ow, dad! Ow! Stop!" He tries to bounce away, but a hand curls around his upper arm and spins him around, the swats continue uninhibited. "Ow! I was fine though! Ow! Ow! I didn't get hurt!"

"You _could _have! You _could _have blown yourself up! I do not tell you _'no' _to be a stick in the mud, I tell you _'no' _because you are my son and I have only your best interests in mind!"

"Ow! Ow! Ow! You're completely overreacting! Ow! OW!"

He's spun around, his father's eyes glow in the darkness, his power is right under the skin. "You think _this _is overreacting, just you wait and see what's in store for you."

The Nephilim's eyes widen slightly, gulping lightly as his dad bends at the knee and scoops him up into his arms, he makes not a protest as he opens his beautiful emerald wings, bends at the knee once more, and rockets them into the sky. He ducks his face into the side of his neck, there's a bite in the wind, it strikes him like little knives piercing his skin. He can feel how tense his father is in his position, the muscles are constricted, he's _angry, _and that in itself makes something sink down into the pits of his stomach, his father is not _nice _when he's angry.

He feels it when they break through the barrier, and he pulls away from the Archangel's neck, looking out at all the buildings, though he's been in this position numerous times, the sight never ceases to amaze him, it's beautiful, his Grandfather really made the place a grand as possible, He'd really outdone Himself.

They fly over the buildings towards the familiar looming structure that meant his impending doom, he'd hoped they hadn't reached it so soon, he doesn't want to see what his father has in store for him, he's really outdone himself this time.

His father lands just before the two massive open doors, but doesn't put him down, probably to save him the effort of having to chase him down when he inevitably made a break for it, anything to spare himself from his father's angered creativity. He carries him into the Infirmary, he had most probably been working when word had reached his ears of his sons latest escapade, and he'd dropped what he'd been doing when he'd heard of his doings, he carries him down the main row, and he looks around, for anyone who could possibly over him some semblance of aid, Oren shakes his head when their eyes meet and he recalls pouting vaguely. He's carried down beyond the beds, to the office in the back, and that's where he's set on his feet once more, safely inside the office, his father blocking any possibilities of escaping when he closes the door behind him and steps forward, guiding him forward with him with a grip around his upper arm.

"You could have _killed _yourself, Isaiah, do you realize that?" He's forced to stand before his fathers desk, and he turns to look up at the tall man, wincing slightly at the heat in his eyes, he's really done it this time. "When I told you _'no fireworks'_, I was not trying to quench your adventures nor your fun, I was trying to _protect _you. You could have blown yourself up. Despite what you seem to think, you do not, in fact, have nine lives."

"I'm really sorry, dad." He bats his eyes, attempting to appeal to his parent's better nature, the dull look he receives in return proves just how well that works. "I won't ever do it again."

"I think you need a bit of enticement to convince you to _'never do it again', _lest, I don't think you'll actually _'never do it again'_."

"Umm." He rubs at the back of his neck. "Can we _not _and _say _we did?"

"You're stalling."

"I am doing no such thing."

"Mhmm." Raphael gestures to his desk. "Clear the edge."

Isa eyes the desk he gestures to and whines softly. "What are you going to do?"

"I haven't decided. It'll be a surprise for both of us." He points to the desk once more. "Clear it."

The Nephilim boy nods, turning to do as he's told, he leans over carefully to close his father's journal and in his bent position, the Archangel swats him harshly, and he jumps, yelping in surprise at the suddenness of the assault. "Continue clearing it."

"Ow! Okay, okay! I'm going, let's keep our hands to ourselves."

He swats him again. "Don't think you can tell me what to do, child."

The Archangel nods when the edge of his desk is cleared. "Now, lean over the edge."

Isa whines softly and does as he's told, watching his dad as best as he can, as he steps around behind him. He turns his head to watch where he's going, and his face pales, as much as it can, when he sees him reach for his staff. "Please, no, not the staff. Please, daddy. Not that. Not the staff."

"Hush, and look around to the front, Isaiah."

The Nephilim boy whines softly, watching him cross his office once more, and looks down at his hands when he disappears behind him. "Please, daddy, please not that."

"Pants down, Isaiah."

"No, no please, please daddy, not that, anything but that."

_"Down, _Isaiah."

He sniffles, nodding lightly at his order, and reaches down for the button of his jeans. He takes his time, moving as slowly as he can, and shimmies his pants down.

"Drawers too."

The Nephilim whines softly, biting his lip as he curls his fingers around the waist band of his boxers, and pushes them down slightly.

"Hands on the desk."

He nods again, leaning forward to rest his hands on top of his father's desk, curled tightly into fists, and prepares himself for the worst.

Despite his best preparations, he can't prepare himself for the loud _thwack _of his father's wooden staff striking his bottom, and it doesn't stop the scream erupting from him as he jumps forward against the edge of the desk. It whistles as it swings back and then back around, and he screams again when it makes impact, bouncing lightly in place. His father is a strict disciplinarian, he doesn't hold his punches, and he never takes it too far, he's a pretty fair guy.

Seven _thwacks _in and he's a sobbing mess, full on tears and snot smeared over his warm face, eyes puffy and swollen, his hands pressed to his mouth, when the last three _thwacks _hit their mark, then they stop. He hears his father moving, over the sound of his own roaring sobs, and then the warm presence returns behind him, large strong hands curl around his the band of his boxers first, pulling them back up, then around the waist of his jeans, pulling those up too, and fingers curl around his arms as he's pulled around.

They make to pull him into an embrace, but he dives forward, burying his face in his father's chest, holding on as tight as he can manage. Arms curl around him tightly, fingers thread between the curls on the back of his head, scratching softly at his scalp, and his father lets him sob into his chest, stuttering out apologies and promises.

"Yes, yes, I forgive you." The Archangel scratches lightly at the back of his head, he looks down when he feels pressure on his boots, and smiles, his son's standing on his feet, and he sways them around softly. "You're alright, there, there."

He sniffles, his sobs dying down, and he looks up at his father. His eyes are back to normal, their soft emerald green, and he sniffles miserably. "I'm sorry, daddy."

"I know you are, my boy, I know." He strokes a finger down his nose. "Don't you ever do that again."

He shakes his head. "Never daddy, never ever."

"Good boy." The Archangel walks them gently around the side of his desk, and sits in his chair, pulling the Nephilim down to rest on his lap lightly. "You'll stay with me for the next week."

"Am..Am I grounded too?"

"Yes, you're most certainly grounded too."


	366. The Shot Of A Gun

He hisses, clutching at his hand, as he walks into his fathers Infirmary, he can hear it now, the lecture, the scolding, the tongue lashing, it rings in his ears, he _hear _it. Oh, it's going to be bad, he's really done it this time, he's gone over that unspoken line.

"Isa, what did you do?" Akriel appears in front of him, curling his fingers around his left wrist, pulling his right hand away, his eyes widening as he lifts his injured hand, looking at him through the hole in his palm. "What on earth?"

"Um, it's a long story."

"Sure," he tugs him forward, holding his hand up, to keep the bleeding at a minimum. "I'm sure your father can make the time to listen to it."

He gulps, he'd been hoping that one of his brothers would treat him, but he should have known, they usually took him to his father, it wasn't fair, but then he knew life wasn't fair either.

His father looks up at their approach, and he hears him heave a sigh, closing his journal lightly, he pushes it away as he turns his chair to the side, gesturing for him to step around. Akriel tugs him around to stand before the Archangel, and Raphael takes his left wrist into his grasp, pulling his hand closer, looking at him through the hole in his palm. "What happened here?"

"It's a long story."

"I've always got time to hear your '_stories_'."

Isa grimaces. "Me and Danny were playing Russian roulette."

The Archangel heaves another exasperated sigh, gesturing for his Virtue to pull up a chair for his son, and Akriel nods, sliding one over, Isa sits as he's expected to. "Keep your hand up." He nods, watching his dad turn to the other side, pulling the middle left drawer open, and reaches inside. He pulls out a dark bottle, a rag, a shot, gauze pads, and a swath of bandages, then he turns back to him.

First he takes the shot, Isa whines softly, he doesn't like shots, usually his dad gave him his shots in the butt, because he gained some sort of sick amusement from his pain, he was sure of it, his dad was a cruel being. "I was going to give you this one in the hand, but if you prefer the rear, I would be happy to oblige, and be that _cruel _being." He looks up, eyes widening, and his dad stares at him, his emerald green eyes shining lightly. "You're projecting your thoughts rather loudly."

He cringes. "Sorry, dad."

"It is alright," he looks back down to his palm, squeezing his wrist firmly when he slides the needle in, offering some semblance of comfort. "I know how painful shots in the rear are. It's my way of giving recompence for your wild adventures and insane ideas." He pulls the needle out and sets the shot aside, reaching for the bottle, he pulls the cap off, and cradles his hand in his own. "What I gave you should numb your palm, but this still might sting a bit, just as fair warning."

The Nephilim boy nods, clenching his eyes closed, he doesn't want to see it when it happens. He yelps, when he pours a bit of the liquid inside the bottle over the hole in his palm.

"It didn't hit anything vital, of which you are lucky." He curls his fingers around the boy's wrist when his hand jerks, undoubtedly from pain. "You'll maintain full function of your hand." He uses the rag to dab up the blood and disinfectant. "Keep your eyes closed, I'm going to stitch the holes closed."

His son nods, thanking him softly for the warning, and curls his other arm around his eyes, just in case they were to open on their own accord out of pure curiosity. He whines when he feels the prick of the needle, and the tug of the thread, in his palm, his hand twitches, but he knows to remain as still as possible, he's had his fair share of stitches, one would think he'd be used to the feeling now.

He's not.

His head feels funny, it feels foggy, his tongue feels like it's made of lead, it's filling his entire mouth.

This always happens. He's really not good when it comes to needles. _Even_ if he can't see them.

"Dad…Dad I don't feel so good."

The Archangel ties off the string of the stitches on his palm and sets his needle down. "Alright, careful, focus on your breathing." He stands from his chair, leaning over at his son's side, slips his left arm under his knees, and his right arm around his shoulders, he lifts him from his chair, cradling him in his arms, he steps out from behind his desk and carries him over to lay on a bed, resting his head back on the pillow. He's a tad rough around the edges, but he always takes care of his patients, even the ones such as his son, the _trying _one. (He wasn't fooling anyone, least of all himself, he adored his son, he'd do anything to make him as comfortable as possible.)

"How are you feeling?"

Isa licks his lips lightly, opening his eyes, they're a tad hazy, his face has taken on an ashen hue. "I feel dizzy and lightheaded."

The Healer nods, reaching over for the pillow on the bed next to them, and lifts his legs to slide it under his knees. "Just focus on your breathing. I'll finish the other side as quick as I can."

Isa nods, watching his dad leave for a moment to retrieve his needle, and threads it once more as he makes his way back to his side, sitting in the rolling chair next to his bed, he scoots in close, turning his hand over, resting it on his stomach, he sticks the needle in and pulls it through, curls it back around to the other side, pulling the needle through, he pulls the thread through and pulls the two edges of skin together.

He lasts for maybe a moment and then darkness overcomes him.

_"Isa…..Isa….My son…..Isa….Wake up….Come on…Isa…."_

Somethings patting his cheek lightly, and he smacks his dry lips, his mouth is a desert. "D..Dad…Wha' h'ppen'd?"

His vision slowly clears, and his senses slowly return to him, something cool is laying over his forehead, and he stares up at his father. Raphael smiles down at him, rubbing his cheek with his fingers, reaching up to press his hand over the cloth around his forehead. "You passed out."

"Mmmm…..S'rry…."

"It's alright, no need to apologize, it happens." He dabs another cool cloth over his warm cheeks. "How do you feel?"

"Mmm…Hot….Thirsty…"

"You'll cool down in a few minutes." His dad turns, reaching for a glass of orange liquid on the bedside table, and lifts his head slightly. "Take small gentle sips, no gulping, you could upset your belly."

He nods, curling his lips around the edge of the glass, and takes a small sip, swallowing thickly, he takes another sip, this one goes down much easier than the first. "One more." He nods, taking one more sip, this one has no trouble going down when he swallows. "Good, you rest here for a bit, I'll go check on a few things, and return to check on you, alright?"

The boy nods. "Is it okay if I fall asleep?"

He nods, brushing his curls back, setting the cloth back around his forehead. "Yes, that's alright."

"Okay, dad."


	367. A Moment Away

"Platypus," he sniffles softly, falling silent at the voice that calls out to him, and rubs at his nose lightly. Today had been a _bad _day. "Can I come in?"

He wanted to decline, but he also knew that he'd just come in anyway if he was concerned enough, so he calls out softly for him to enter, and curls back around, facing the fall, tears slowly slipping down his cheeks and over his nose, and he sniffles again, reaching up to wipe his nose with the back of his hand. He hears his door open quietly and him step in, the door clicks softly behind him as he closes it, and he hears the soft clang of a tray as it's set on the bedside table. His bed dips, and a large warm hand curls around his side. "Platypus, what are you wearing?"

He sniffs softly and looks down, at the bandage wraps he's wrapped tightly around himself, it makes him thinner, makes it so he doesn't jiggle when he jumps or runs, he doesn't get noticed, not usually, with these on, and they don't say mean things to him, not normally, they _did _notice today though. "Puri?" He sniffles again, rubbing at his eyes lightly as tears make them burn, and curls his hands up under his chin. "It makes me like you and Nis. I don't jiggle with it on."

"Platypus," his mentor sounds so sad and he feels bad, guilty, he sounds sad because of him. "Why didn't you tell me you were being picked on again?"

"You were really busy." The small Elect mumbles softly. "I didn't want to be a burden."

"Platypus, you think of me like a _'papa'_, don't you?" He nods slightly. "Then, as your papa, you could never be a burden to me. I want to know everything, the good and the bad, especially if someone is being mean to you. I want to know if something made you happy, or if something made you sad, or if you're feeling badly. I want to know it all."

"I'm sorry, papa."

"It's alright, just come to me next time, alright?" He knows his papa won't let it go until he nods. "Very good," the hand curled around his side tugs lightly. "Come on, turn around." He let's himself be pulled around, Abraxos smiles down at him when he turns to lay on his back, and he pats him on the belly. "Let's get this wrap off." The youth nods, pushing himself up, and his mentor reaches around him as he unrolls the wrap from around his belly. He giggles softly when he wiggles the fingers of his right hand into his belly playfully, and his mentor turns his wiggling fingers to rub at his belly gently, patting his belly as he tugs him around with his other hand. "Come here, platypus." He scoots across his bed, settling against his side, Abraxos rubs at his belly softly. "How about some supper, your favorite, meatloaf and potatoes, little trees of broccoli with cheese, and for desert, your favorite, Nis's special cherry pie." He keeps rubbing his belly, papa knows how much he likes it when he rubs his belly, it makes him feel good. "How about it?" Papa pats his belly gently. "Hungry?"

Puriel nods, looking up at the older Power. "I'm really hungry."

"I know you are, you missed breakfast and lunch." Abraxos turns for the tray, lifting it with both hand, he turns back and deposits it down in his lap. The younger angel looks up at him with wide eyes, and he turns, their eyes meeting. "How did you know?"

Abraxos rubs his cheek lightly, leaning in to press their foreheads together. "I may have been busy, but I love you very much, I take notice when there's something off with you."

"If you knew then why didn't you say anything?"

"I wanted to see if you'd come to me yourself." The older Power passes him his fork. "When you didn't, I knew I had to take action myself."

Puriel looks down, pulling away from him. "I'm sorry, papa."

"It's alright, I understand," he turns his head back around, pecking him on the nose lightly. "I know it's not easy. I just want you to know that I'm here for you, Nis is here for you, and your little brother is most certainly here for you, if you ever need help. If you ever need someone to just hold you, all you have to do is ask Nis or I, we'll hold you all through the night if you want us to." He blinks up at the older Power, and sniffles softly, fingers wipe away a single tear as it. "Don't cry, little baby platypus, you'll spoil your supper."

"I really love you, papa."

"I really love you too, baby boy." He pulls the youth close, pressing a firm kiss to his forehead, and gestures down to his meal. "Better eat up while it's still warm."

Puriel nods, leaning into the older Power's side, as he turns to his meal. He scoops up some potatoes and stuffs it in his mouth, humming in delight, he cuts a piece of meatloaf, scoops up more potatoes, stabs his piece of meatloaf, and takes his bite, he's famished and it's just so good. He scoops up a piece of broccoli and cheese and hums in delight once more. Abraxos rubs at his arm lightly, resting silently as he eats his supper, making himself comfortable on the bed.

He eats quickly, and soon moves on to his pie, two pieces, with a heaping pile of whipped cream, just the way he likes it, and he devours it, it's so yummy, he loves Nis's pie. There's a tall glass of water and a tall glass of milk, one to wash down the supper and the other to wash down the dessert, he downs both of them and settles back, belly full and happy.

Abraxos rubs his belly gently. "Better?"

He nods. "Better, papa."

"Good," he takes the tray from his lap, and turns, setting it back on the bedside table.

Puriel cuddles up against his mentor's side, when there's a knock on the door, the older Power pulls him close and calls for them to enter. The door handle twists and the door is pushed open, a head pokes in, and he smiles at him. "Hi, Nis."

"Hey, little platypus." Their Captain steps into the room, his little brother sneaking in under his arm, Nisroc stays behind to close the door, but Titus scurries across his room, climbing up onto his bed, crawling up to cuddle against his side, and the oldest Power joins him soon after, leaning around his little brother to press a firm kiss to his cheek, resting at his side, curling his arm around their shoulders.

Titus curls around his arm, but leans back against his mentor, and tugs lightly to gain his attention. "Who was it?"

He smiles down at his little brother. "It's okay, Tus."

"No, it's not, Puri." His little brother is a force to reckon with. "I'll kick their ass."

Nisroc chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to the smallest Elect's head. "Calm down, tiger cub, you're not kicking anyone's butt, and watch your language."

Titus looks up at him. "Sorry, papa."

"It's alright." He presses his lips to his forehead. "Just mind your language from here on."

"I will, papa." He turns back to his older brother and hugs his arm tightly. "Who was it, Puri, I'll kick their butt."

Nisroc squeezes him firmly. "You will not."

"But, papa," their youngest Elect looks up at their Captain. "They hurt Puri!"

"I know they did, and I know who did it, no, I'm not telling you, don't look at me like that, tiger cub, I'll deal with it myself."

"You're not fair, papa."

"I know," he presses a kiss to the side of the boy's head. "I'm so unfair, I let you stay up passed bedtime, but I'm cruelly unfair."

Puriel hugs his brother tightly. "Are we all spending the night together?"

Titus hugs his arm tightly. "I'm not leaving."

Nisroc rubs at his head fondly, caressing his cheek gently. "I'm not going anywhere."

He looks over when Abraxos squeezes him close to his side. "I'm quite comfortable here. I think I'll stay the night."

The second youngest Elect smiles, cuddling down against his mentor, smiling over at his little brother and Nis (his other papa, if he's being honest). "I love you guys, you always know how to make me feel better."


	368. A New Promise

"I'm so sorry, little zebra." He strokes his fingers through the boy's silky curls, laying back against his pillows, the boy's head cushioned on his belly. "There's no excuse for how I've wronged you." The youth rubs at his nose lightly, even after his nap, his bottom still twinges slightly, it was a rough chastisement, and he swore never to pick a fight on the training field ever again. "Even with all the work I've had to do after coming back to myself, I should have still come to see you, just as I promised you I would."

"You really hurt my feelings, papa." Zander rubs at his nose again, it's runny, he'd been crying, his poor heart had been broken. "I spent days waiting for you, you said you'd come visit after my first week, and I counted down the days, I waited for you all day on the seventh day, and you never came. I'd made you some art and cookies, and I waited on our doorstep, watching everyone come passed, and you never came."

"My little zebra." The Warden curls his arms around the boy and gives him a gentle squeeze. "I'm so sorry. I've broken your heart and I'll never forgive myself for that."

"I got in trouble, because soon it was sundown, and then night, and I had to get in bed. I got angry and threw a tantrum and Moriah got angry, he took me over his knee, and I cried myself to sleep with a sore bottom."

"Oh, my little one, I'm so sorry." He curls his fingers under the boy's arms and tugs him up, resting him on his chest instead of his belly, and curls his arms around him, pressing a firm kiss to the top of his head. "I'm so sorry for hurting you so." Thaddeus rubs at the side of his head with his left hand. "If you'd like, we'll do some art together and make some cookies, it's just you and me, little one, for the next few days. I cleared my schedule, I set my other kids up with keepers, and Nis has given his permission for your time off, we'll spend every minute together."

The youth nods lightly, curling his fingers lightly in the front of his shirt, and the crackling of the fire fills the room for a few moments. "Promise, papa, just you and me?"

"You and me, little one, just us."

"But what can we do, papa," Zander sniffs softly, nuzzling closer again, tugging lightly at the man's tunic. "It's getting cold out, especially at night, we can't go out and see the stars or make a fire and tell stories, it's too cold."

He rubs at his head lightly. "It is, but we can make up the fireplace in here and drink some hot cocoa while we tell stories, we can play boardgames, I can read you stories, we can do art, we can make all sorts of goodies like cakes and cookies, we can still do all sorts of things."

"Like cuddles?"

"Oh, little baby zebra, lot's of cuddles." The older angel squeezes the youngling close. "All the cuddles." He loosens his grip, and kisses the top of his head, rubbing at his cheek lightly. "I'm going to hold you all through the night, I'm not letting you go.

"What if you have to use the bathroom?"

"Okay, you cheeky little thing, I'll let you go for some things, but then I'm taking you right back up again."

Zander smiles lightly, nuzzling against his chest again. "I love you, papa."

"I love you too, little one, very much." He strokes his curls back. "Did Moriah treat you good?"

"Mhmm." He nods. "He was really nice, we had lots of fun together, but he wasn't you, papa."

"Nobody's quite like me."

"He was really great, we made all sorts of treats, he told lots of good stories, he gave me lots of tickles and cuddles." The youth turns slightly, to look up at the Warden, and Thaddeus smiles down at him, leaning forward to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. "But he wasn't you, papa. He wasn't my papa."

"I'm your papa?"

Zander smiles up at him. "You're my papa."

"And you're my little zebra." He strokes his cheek lightly. "My second little one."

"Can we take another nap, papa?"

He kisses the top of his head. "Yes, we most certainly can."


	369. Papa's Request

"Sab," he hums when he hears his papa's voice call out to him, they're resting on the older Power's bed, leaned up against the pillows, he's situated between the older Power's legs, his arms wrapped around him, rubbing gentle patterns over the bandages wrapped around his wrist. Rahatiel isn't with them this time, he's getting his first examination from the Healer, it's going to be a while, and he's holding onto the little Power for when the needle pricks stick into his arms. "Can you do something for papa?"

"Mhmm."

"Baby starfish, the others are going to come to you to ask for your forgiveness, and I don't want you to give it to them."

Sablo turns slightly, to look up at him, and Abraxos smiles down at him, pecking him on the nose lightly. "Why, papa?"

"Because, baby starfish, they really did you wrong, and I want them to earn it."

"Forgive them for what, papa?" He flinches, and the older Power knows what it is, he reaches up to rub at his upper right arm lightly, the prick of a needle. "What did they do wrong?"

"Oh, my poor little starfish." Abraxos presses a kiss to his forehead lightly. "They did something very wrong. They turned their backs on you when you needed them most. That was very wrong."

"But that's okay, papa. I hurt them badly." Sablo turns back around and settles back down. "Now that you're back, they'll remember me again."

"They shouldn't have forgotten you in the first place, baby starfish, you did nothing to deserve it. They did something very wrong. It was my decision to jump in front of you, and mine alone, I've lost more then enough, I am not going to lose you too." The older Power rubs at his belly lightly. "You mean a lot to me, baby starfish, and they hurt you, not only mentally, but physically as well. They neglected you, and neglect is not okay, no matter what circumstance or situation, it's never okay." He looks over his shoulder, slowly pulling his top up. "So, I know it's against your forgiving and kind nature, but I want you to be stubborn and unforgiving, I want you to call Nis _'Captain' _and Puri _'Medic', _can you do that for papa?"

"I'd do anything for you, papa."

"I know you would, papa loves you very much, now, something much better then all that sadness, how about we give your big brother a bit of a hard time." He dips a finger into the young angel's belly button. "You both share a few spots." He wiggles his finger around lightly and the youth giggles brightly, batting at his hand, squirming slightly. "I really love this bond between you two."


	370. A Late Morning

"Good morning, Isa." The young Nephilim waves to the oldest Archangel in greeting, Michael smiles at him, sipping from a steaming mug of coffee. "Looking for your father?"

"Mhmm." He nods, pausing in the entrance of the hall. "Is he in his room?"

"Yes, he was up rather late last night, I believe he is still sleeping." The oldest Archangel hums into his mug. "Are you going to wake your father, Isaiah?"

"No way," Isa shakes his head, then he nods, which turns into a shrug. "Maybe for a minute, I just need to ask him something."

"Oh, maybe I can help?"

"Nope." He shakes his head and turns down the hall. "Thanks, Uncle Michael."

He comes to the Healer's room quickly, and turns to face the door, reaching for the door handle, he twists it, pushing the door open. There's a mound in his dad's bed, under the blankets, a dark hand rests just within line of sight, limp, his dad's still sleeping. He looks around his dad's room from the doorway, spotting what he came for, and tiptoes in, watching the gentle rise and fall of the mound, mindful of any breaking in the rhythm or movement in that hand he sees. As he crosses the room, he sees his dad's face, his eyes closed, expression peaceful, sound asleep.

The Nephilim reaches out for the length of wood, the staff of Raphael, he'll have it back before he even notices it was gone.

"Isaiah, no."

He jumps around, expecting to see his dad's emerald eyes watching him, but he hasn't moved a muscle. His eyes are still closed, his expression still peaceful, hand still exactly where he saw it last. "Dad?" He gets nothing. Crossing over, he comes to stand at his dad's bedside, leaning over, he curls his fingers around that hand, and tugs lightly. "Dad?"

"Mmmm?"

"Dad, can I borrow your staff?"

"No."

He bites his lip and tugs on his hand again. "Can I borrow your bow?"

"No."


	371. A Long Time Coming

"I have to say, this has been a long time coming, alligator." He enters through the door, and pushes it closed behind him, walking over to stand at his side at the table, leaning against the side, smiling down at him. "You've been a rather sarcastic little shit lately, alligator, your snark only gets you into trouble, don't you remember the last time?"

Abner sticks his tongue out at him. "I'm an _angel_."

"In title only, I assure you, you're a little alligator, very snappy." He looks him over carefully, from head to toe, he's in prime position, topless and barefoot, he has so much to work with. "What am I going to do with you, little alligator?"

"You're going to be a jerk."

"I'm _never _a jerk." Thaddeus looks back up at him, meeting his eyes, Abner smiles, he can't help it, you can't help but smile when you're stuck at the tickle monster Warden's mercy. "Should I start here, at your little neck?" He reaches back for his feather, flicking his feather lightly under his ear, Abner giggles hard, shaking his head from side to side. "Or these adorably ticklish little armpits?" He moves his feather down to flick over his armpit, the prisoner giggles brightly, leaning away from him as much as he can, he doesn't get very far, Thaddy's a jerk though, and goes between both armpits, flicking his feather over one, and when he leans away, over the other, and back again, back and forth, side to side. "Is this belly feeling very lucky today?" He dips the tip of his feather into his belly button and twirls it between his thumb and index finger, Abner squeaks and shrieks softly, sucking his belly in. "Or these little toes, I have it on good authority that these toes are a good spot." He threads his feather between his fourth and baby toe, rubbing it back and forth, and his little alligator squeals softly, his toes are just as sensitive as his grasshoppers, and his toes curl up tightly.

He chuckles, shaking his head, reaching out with his other hand. "No, no, don't curl up on me, these toes could use a bit of a dusting." He curls his fingers around his big toe, pulling it back, and naturally his other toes fan out with it. "There we go." He threads his feather back between his fourth and baby toe and brushes it back and forth once more, the younger angel squeals softly, twisting his foot around, trying to tug his foot free, but the Warden's grip is secure, and he moves on to flicking his feather between his big and second toe. Abner squeals again, throwing his head back, kicking his other foot wildly, the cuff around his ankle rattles as he does. "Always with the _sarcasm_, with the _snark_, I don't mind it, I really don't, keeps life interesting, it's nice to having someone to bicker with every now and then, but sometimes, _sometimes, _you can get on my nerves just a bit." He reaches up, sticking his feather behind his ear, and leans over, Abner's eyes widen, and he squeals again at the mere prospect of it, at the mere thought of what's about to come. "Let me see this baby toe."

"EEIEIEIIEAIAIAIAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA NOHOHOHOHOO! TAHAHAHAHHAHAHADDYYYY! NOHHOHOHOHOT THAHAHAHAHAAT! EEIEIEIEAAIAIAIAIAIAAAHAHAHHHAHAHAHHAHHAHAAAAA PLEHEHEHEHHEEEASE! NOHOHOHOHOT THAHAHAHAHHAAAAT! EIEIEIEAIIAAIIAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA NOHOHOHOOT NIHIHIHIIIBBBLESS! AHAHAHAHAHAHEEAEEIEEIIEIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAA NOOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHE BAAHAHAHHAHAABY TOHOHOHOHOE! EIEIEIEIAIAIAIAIAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! TAHAHAHAHHAADDYY!"

He pulls away from his left foot and turns to his right. "Let me see this baby toe over here."

"Tahahahaddyyyy! Pleehehehehehehease! Nohohohooo! Plehehheheheheease!" The Warden leans over, curling his fingers around the top of his foot, and his eyes widen. "EEIEIIEAIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHO NOHHOHOHOHOHOT AHAHAHAHAHAGAIN! PLEHEHEHEHHEASE! EIEIEIAIAIAAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHHAA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEERE! NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHE BABABABABY TOHOHOHOHOE! EIEIEIAIIAIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAA GEHEEHHHEHEEHHEET OHOHOHOHOOFFF! PLEHEHEHEHHEEASE! EEIEIAIIAIAIAIAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA MEHEHEHEHERCY! MEHEHEHEERCY TAHAHAHAHAADDYYY!"

"Mercy?" He pulls away from his toes, letting go of his foot, as he steps around the side of the table. "What would _you _know about _mercy_?" Thaddeus reaches back for his feather. "How many times have I asked you for some _silence_? Just a little bit. Just a day without your sarcasm. Just one." He twirls the tip of his feather in the younger angel's belly button, and his little alligator shrieks with laughter, sucking in his belly, no easy task with his bubbly laughter. "Too many times, that's how many times, I should only have to ask once, just _once_."

"Tahahahahaddy! Stohohop! Stohohohop! Gehehet ihihihit ohhohohohout! Nohohot thehehe feheheheather! Gehehehet ihihihit ohohohout! Geheheet ihihit ohhohohohout! Eehehehehehhehhehe! Eheheheheheeaaahahahahahhahaha! I cahahahan't tahahahahake ihihihit! I cahahahan't tahahahahake ihihihit!"

"That's because you're just so darn ticklish." Thaddeus intones lightly, circling his feather around his belly, it shakes with giggles and bubbly laughter, and then he dips it back in his belly button and twirls it around a bit more. "I could just stand here and twirl this feather in your little belly button for an hour and it would absolutely destroy you."

"Plehehehease nohohhohoho! I'll stohohhoohop! I'll stohohohohohop! I'll behehehe quhuhhuhuiet thehehehehe whohohohole wehehehheek! Eehehehehehehehee ehehehehehehhehe! Pleheheheheease nohohohoho! Pleheheheease Tahahahhaaddyyy! Nohohohot ahahahan hohohohour!" He shakes his head feverishly, still trying to suck in his belly, but he's laughing too hard. "Plehehehheease Tahahahahaddy! I'll behehehe gohohohohhooohood! I'll beehehehehehe gohohhohoood! I cahahahaahahan't taahahahhahahake ihihihihit! Gehehehehet ihihihit ohohohhout! Gehehehehhet ihihihit ohhohohout! Eehehehheheheehehe I cahahahahaan't tahahahhahaake ihihihihihit! Plehehehheease! Tahahahahhaddy! Plehehehehease!"

He hums. "All I want is a measly day without any sarcasm. Not an _ounce_."

"Ohohohookaahahahahaay! Ohohohohookkaahahahhhay! Plehehehheeease Tahahahhaddy! Eeehehehehhehehe ehehehehehhehee! I cahahahahahan't tahahahhaake ihihihihit! Ohohhohohokahaahhahay! I cahahahahan dohohoho thahhahahhahat!"

Thaddeus meets his eyes. "You swear?"

He nods frantically, kicking his legs, drilling his heels into the table. "I sweehehehhehheeear! I swehehehear! Eeheheheheheheehee! Pleehehehheheease Tahahahahaaddy! I swehehehhear!"

"I'll take you at your word." He pulls his feather away, and he giggles breathlessly, dropping his head back, scrunching his eyes closed. "But you give me even an _ounce _of sarcasm and I have you right back here. Twirling my feather in your little belly button for an _hour_. Are we in agreement?"

"Yehehees! Yehehes! Agree! Agrehehehee! Nohoho mohohore! Noho more!"

"Alright, we have a deal." He whistles softly as he crosses up to his head, unstrapping his wrists, and then to his feet, unstrapping his ankles, he tugs the breathless giggly angel down by the ankles. "Come here, you giggly little alligator." Abner sits up, struggling to get his giggles under control, and reaches up, Thaddeus chuckles softly and scoops him up, an arm under his knees and around his shoulders. "Do you know what time it is now?"

"Nahap time?"

"That's right, little alligator, it's nap time."


	372. A New Home

"You're gonna love him, Abe, I know you are." Thaddeus flips through the boy's file, before passing it over to the prospective guardian, as is his custom, they need to know all there is about the kids they were taking from him. The Power takes the file from him, reading briefly through the incident reports, there's a good number of them. "I'll be open with you; he has a bit of an attitude problem."

"There's quite a few incident reports, challenging authority, profanity, quite a few violent confrontations, he has a tendency to instigate fights, it just goes on."

The Warden nods lightly. "Yes, yes there is, he's got a rough exterior, but he's mighty soft underneath." The older angel sets the boy's file on the edge of his desk. "Might I suggest, doing something I failed to do when he arrived, setting up those boundaries early. Show him what will happen if he breaks those boundaries first and foremost." He leans forward, sliding the file around, and signs his name on the front page, and slides it back around, leaning forward to set the pen on top of the page. "Once you get those set, he's a real cutie, a little marshmallow. Mmm, that belly, I've had some fun with that belly, give it a good exploration and you'll see what I mean." Thaddeus rubs at his beard lightly. "I'll admit, you're going to need a bit of patience when it comes to him, Abe."

The Power nods, leaning forward, taking up the pen to sign his name under the Warden's. "I have an abundance of patience. I'll take your suggestion into account." He sets the pen down and taps the top of the page, sliding it back around, and nods firmly. "I'll take him."

Thaddeus smiles at him. "Excellent. You were my first choice."

There's a knock on the door, and he looks up, calling out for them to enter. A guard opens the door, and they walk in, he smiles at the youngling standing in front of the guard, holding a small satchel to his chest, he'd known since last night he was being released today.

"Thaddy?"

"Good morning, Hama, please come in." He nods to the guard, and they back out, closing the door behind him. "Come in, come in, take a seat." He gestures to the chair next to the Power, and the youngling steps forward cautiously, looking between his friend and the stranger, carefully sitting in the chair he was asked to. "All the paperwork's been completed, Hama, you're a free boy."

"Can I…Can I stay with you, Thaddy?" He scoots forward in his chair. "Please?"

Thaddeus hates these moments, they both grow attached, and he has to hand them off. He rubs at his beard lightly and sighs, looking down to his file, and shakes his head lightly, he hates to ruin the boy's wishes, there's always a few who ask if they can stay with him, and he can't take them all. "Hama, I'm sorry, but you can't."

"Please…Please, Thaddy, please, can I stay with you?"

His heart breaks just a bit, it shatters a bit, and he's quick to move them forward, gesturing to the Power across from him. "This is Abraxos, Hama."

The boy turns to look at him, Abraxos smiles at him, he smiles like Thaddy does, there's so much warmth in his smile. "Hello, Hama."

"Y—You're a Power." He stares at the older angel. "The….The _second oldest _Power."

"That I am." He nods lightly. "I've heard a lot about you."

Hamaliel stares at him a moment, and turns back to the Warden, scooting to the edge of his seat. "Please, Thaddy, please, I wanna stay with you!"

"Hama—"

"Please, Thaddy, please, I'll be real good, I swear, please!"

"Hama, you're going to love being with Abe." Thaddeus is quick to divert the subject, he'd take the boy, he would, but after taking Zazriel, he really just doesn't have the room. "He helped raise me, you know, I learned almost all I know from him."

The youngling stares at him for a moment, then he turns to look at the Power next to him, Abraxos smiles again and nods, and he turns back to the Warden. "He did?"

"He did, he taught me almost everything I know. He's a tad on the strict side, he has certain rules you have to follow, but I'm the same way. We're more alike then you think." He knows he has the boy's attention, it's peaked, Hamaliel looks back to the Power for a moment, and Abraxos nods again. "As long as you follow his rules and mind what he says, he'll be one of your best friends, you'll love him, Hama, he's a lot of fun."

Hamaliel looks back at the Warden, Thaddeus smiles at him and leans forward, resting on his elbows. "He is?"

"Oh, yea, you'll have a good time with him. He's always up for playing games. He tells amazing stories. He's a giant cuddle bug. He makes a _mean _chocolate cake, always lets you lick the spoon when he does, lets you have the first piece." Hamaliel's intrigued, he can tell, and he leans forward even more, curling a hand around his mouth, as though to tell him a secret, but they both know Abraxos can hear him. "And, between you and me, he's a _big _tickle monster."

The Power chuckles next to him, and he leans forward a bit more, nearly leaning against the front of the Warden's desk, Hamaliel stares at him with curious eyes. "Like you?"

"Oh, he _taught _me to be the tickle monster I am today."

The youth licks his lips. "Does he read bedtime stories, too?"

"Oh, he reads you bedtime stories all right."

Hamaliel turns to look at the Power again, critically, Abraxos smiles at him again, nodding along, resting against his hand, leaning against the side of the chair he's seated in. He turns back to the Warden in front of him. "Will he tuck me in like you do, Thaddy?"

"He will, he'll tuck you in nice and snug." Thaddeus smiles at him. "He wants to be your guardian; do you think you might want to give him a try?"

"I don't know, Thaddy…." The youth looks down to his lap for a moment. "I really wanna stay with you."

"I think you'll find that me and Abe are very much alike. Why don't you give him a try, stay with him for the week, I'll come see you in a week, and if you're unhappy, we'll make some…." He searches for the right words. "Other arrangements."

Hamaliel leans forward, curling a hand around his mouth, as though to whisper to the Warden a secret, and Thaddeus leans forward for him so he can. "What if…What if he doesn't like me…Because I'm big?"

"Oh, Hama," he's quick to assure. "I think you'll find that you'll fit right in. He doesn't much care for how you look. He'll love you with all his heart if he you give him the chance to."

"But….But I have a big belly…..And he's a _Power_…Would he really want someone….Someone's who's fat?"

Thaddeus gives him a stern look. "We've talked about that word before, Hamaliel, you are not _'fat'_." He leans back in his chair. "If you're truly concerned about it, why don't you just ask him yourself?"

Hamaliel licks his lips, nodding, and turns to look at the Power next to him, hugging his small satchel, Abraxos raises his eyebrows curiously, but doesn't say a word. "You….You want me…..Even though I'm fat?"

"You're not fat, as you put it, you're padded. You're _perfect_. I wouldn't think less of you because of how you look." He leans over slightly. "And, between you and me, I happen to _love _chubby little tummies. Thaddy's told me of all the fun he's had with that tummy, I'll just have to find out how much fun it is on my own, I'm _very _curious."

He smiles slightly, curling his arms around his belly lightly, he sounds like Thaddy does. He nods, turning back to the Warden, and smiles slightly. "I'll give him a chance."

"Good," Thaddeus nods, he looks so proud, his eyes beam at him brightly. "I'll come see you in a week and see how you're settling in, I expect you to be on your best behavior, like I said, as long as you follow his rules, you'll get along really well."

"I'll be good, Thaddy, I promise."

"Good, good, very good." Thaddeus takes his pen, closes his file, and holds it out to the Power as he rises to his feet, he understands a farewell and a dismissal when he hears it. Abraxos takes the boy's file, curling in against his side, and turns to the boy. Hamaliel rises cautiously, curling his arms around his satchel again, and turns to look up at the tall Power. "You're free to go. I'll see you in a week, okay?"

Hamaliel nods, turning towards the Power, Abraxos smiles down at him. "Ready?"

"Yes….Yes sir."

Abraxos rubs his head lightly and he looks up at him. "You don't have to call me that. I'm not that formal."

"Sorry."

"It's alright, nothing to be sorry about." He turns him around towards the door of the Warden's office. "Come on, I'll show you home, it's coming up on supper time."

…

"Alright, there are a few things I think we need to go over; I've read your file, the number of incident reports you have is staggering." Abraxos pulls him forward to stand in front of him, as he sits on the edge of the bed, it's after supper, they've all turned in for the night, it's just the two of them now. "I've noticed a trend that I think needs to be addressed."

"I..I just got here….Am I in trouble…Did I eat too much at supper?"

"No, no," he's quick to assure, squeezing his waist lightly. "I want you to eat your fill, there's no eating too much, if you want seconds, you can have seconds, if you want thirds, you can have thirds, we make more then enough. If you go to bed hungry, that's you own fault." The Power shakes his head. "No, I think we need to address a few other things. Your trouble with authority figures, penchant for instigating fights, cursing, the like. I won't stand for any of it, do you understand me, I won't stand for it. If I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it, there will be no arguing, no back talking, no _cursing_, you'll do as I say when I say. Do you understand?"

Hamaliel nods lightly, he promised Thaddy he'd be on his best behavior, he'd try his hardest.

"Good," the second oldest Power nods. "Next, I'm not here to be your friend—"

His heart flutters lightly. "But, Thaddy said—"

"I _can _be you're friend, and I want to be, I want to be close to you, and order for us to get along, I need you to obey me, I won't lead you wrong, if I tell you to do something, it's because it's for your own good." He squeezes his waist again. "And I think you should know what will happen if you disobey my rules."

"You…. You'll send me back?"

He shakes his head. "No, I don't give up on people, I never have, and I never will. I chose to be your guardian, you're a part of my family, and I especially don't give up on my family." He shakes his head, and Hamaliel looks down as his hands meet in front of him, unbuttoning his trousers, and he tugs them and his undergarments down slightly. "Let me show you."

"Abe….?"

"Come on, come on over." His eyes widen as he's guided down over the Power's lap, Thaddy had never done this, when he got in trouble, Thaddy took his supper away, he'd take his things until he was alone in his cell, and there he'd stay for the whole day. He stares down at the floor, feeling a sense of impending doom, and stiffens when a large hand presses to his left cheek. "This is what will happen if you disobey me."

Hamaliel yelps, shrieking softly, when the hand pulls back and smacks down again, harshly, again and again. He kicks his legs, pushing at the Power's thigh, trying to pull himself free, and his leg moves, he falls forward slightly, and those heavy smacks rain down on his thighs. He cries out, tears coming to his eyes, they make them burn, and he breathes a sob, when it doesn't stop, the falls just continue to rain down and down and down. It over before he knows it, and his rear burns, his eyes burn, and he's sobbing into his hands.

Abraxos rights him, setting him on his feet, and pulls his trousers back into place, buttoning them back up. "Did you enjoy that experience?" He breathes a sob, shaking his head feverishly, pressing his fists over his mouth. "I didn't like it either. Please, don't give me a reason to do it again, okay?"

The youth nods, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, and the tall Power stands from the edge of the bed, caressing his cheeks lightly, wiping away the tears. "Good, we'll get along great." He curls his fingers under his arms. "Hop up." Hamaliel hops up as he's told, and the Power bends slightly as he lifts him from his feet. "Sshhh, it's alright, you're alright." He rubs at his back with his large hand, it's comforting, and he curls his arms around his neck, pressing his face into his shoulder. "As long as you obey me, you'll never have to feel that again, it'll be alright, sshhh, it's alright, little one."

"I mihiss Thahahaddy!" He sobs into his shoulder, and Abraxos sighs softly, rubbing soothing circles around and around. "I know you do, but you'll find, it's not so bad staying with me. We're quite alike, him and I, it'll be alright, we'll have a good time."

"I wahahant Thahaddy!"

"I know you do, little one, I know." He sways softly, spinning them in a small circle, rubbing at his back softly. "I know. Just give me a chance, please?"

Hamaliel inhales deeply, his sobs dying down, his bottom still burns, but not as much as it had right after, and he nods. He promised Thaddy he'd give him a chance. "Ohohokay…."

"Thank you, little one, I promise it'll be worth your while."

…

"Okay, I'm going to flip it."

"You're not gonna catch it!"

"Oh, I'm going to catch it, mister."

Hamaliel giggles softly, holding the plate of hotcakes in his lap, watching the tall Power, lift the frying pan from the burner, raising a hand slightly, and swing the pan up. They both watch the hot cake fly up, flipping round and round, and the youngling holds his breath, almost wishing for it to miss, just to see the horrified expression on the elder's face.

Abraxos cheers softly, when it lands face down in the pan, turning to look at him. "I always catch them!"

"You're magic!"

"I _am _magic!"

The youth sets the plate down beside him. "Can I try?"

"Sure," his guardian waves him forward, and he hops down from the counter, crossing around to stand in front of him, he let's go of the pan handle for him to grab onto, and curls his hand around his. "It's all in the wrist." Hamaliel nods, watching as Abe swings their hands up, and the hotcake flies up, turning over and over in the air, and drops back into the pan. "Cool!"

The Power chuckles softly, turning the burner off, and scoops the hotcake up with the spatula. "Do we have everything?"

"I put the butter and syrup on the table!"

"Plates?"

"No!" Hamaliel exclaims. "I forgot the plates!"

"You better get the plates." He chuckles again, setting the hotcake on the pile, and lifts the plate up over his head as he darts passed him. The youngling reaches up into the cupboard and picks two plates off the top, scurrying back to the table, setting one in Abe's place and one in his. "Milk or juice?"

"Milk!"

"One tall glass of milk." He pours him his milk, the boy slides into his seat and looks up at him, waiting for him to serve them, and smiles when he plops three fluffy hotcakes down on his plate. "Go ahead, dig in, tell me how they taste?"

Hamaliel nods, reaching for the butter and syrup, preparing his hotcakes just the way he likes them. Abraxos sits across from him heavily, falling into his chair, and serves himself, watching him as he takes his first bite, smiling as his face lights up. "Good?"

"These are amazing, Abe!"

"You think these are good," he pours syrup over his hotcakes. "Just you wait until you try my famous chocolate cake."

…

"Oh, I've waited as patiently as I could to test out this little belly for myself." He's giggling already, as his guardian lays himself over his legs, curling his fingers in the lower hem of his tunic, pushing it up slowly. "Let me see this belly for myself." His eyes widen playfully when he pushes his tunic up, looking down at his belly. "Oh, this is even more adorable then Thaddy said it was."

"It is?"

"Oh, for sure, this is cutest little belly I've ever seen." Hamaliel giggles harder when he starts poking at his belly. "Oh, that's promising, yes, yes, very promising."

"Ahahahaabe! Nohoho!"

"Oh, this is great." He stops his poking, and for a moment, he's sure his guardian is going to let him go, but he shrieks, as he wiggles his fingers in the sides of his belly. "Beautiful, beautiful, let it out, let me hear that precious laughter."

"Ahahahahahaabbeeee! Nohohohoho! Aahahahahahahahaa tihihihickles! Aahahahahahhahahaha nohohoot thehehehe beheheheelly!"

"Not the belly?" He wiggles his fingers down to his lower belly, and the boy squeals softly, drilling his heels into his bed. "Why not?" He smiles at the youth, as his eyes shine, and boisterous laughter fills the room. "Is it 'cause your belly is a wee bit ticklish?"

"Yehehehees! Yehehehes! Aahahahahahhahahaa! Tihihhihihickles! Tihihihihickles! Ahahahahhaabe! Ahahahahahhaha ahahahahahhahahaa eeiieieaiaiiahahahahahahaha! Stohohohohop! Aahahahahaahhahhaa!"

Abraxos chuckles softly, pulling his fingers away, and waits for him to calm down again. "Do you want to see something cool?"

Hamaliel giggles softly, curious, curiosity killed the cat. "What?"

He raises his hand, curling his fingers slightly, forming a claw with his fingers. "You know what this is?"

"No?"

"I call this _'the claw'_." He looks down at his hand, turning it around to examine, and raises his other hand, forming another claw. "It has a brother, see, they're twins." He looks back at him and Hamaliel smiles, shaking his head slightly. "Do you know what the claw brothers like to do?"

The youth shakes his head again. "No."

He smiles at him, his hands shooting down to his belly, clawing in viciously, and he squeals, arching his back. "They like to tickle little chubby tummies." Hamaliel squeals with laughter, batting and pushing at his hands, but they claw in, the dig in, wiggling and vibrating around, and he bounces from side to side. "Aren't you happy I introduced you to the claw brothers?"

"EIEIIEAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA AHAHAHAHHAABE! AHAHAHAHHAHAHAABE! NOHOHOHOHOT THAHAHAHAHAAT! THAHAHAHAT'S BAHAHAHHAAD! EIEIEEIIEIEIAIAIAIAIAAAHAHAHHAHAHHAA THAHAHAHAT TIHIHIHICKLES! THAHAHAHAT TIHIHIHICKLES RHEHEHEHEAAALLY BAHAHAHHAAD! NOHHOHHHOHOHOHHOT THEHEHHEHEHE CLAHAHAHHAW! EIEIEIAIAIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHE CLAHAHAHAHAW! AHAHAHAHHAAABBE! PLEHEHEHEHEEASE!"

"Aw, the claw brothers like you. They love this little chubby tummy." He pulls his hands back. "Let's see, how about this, does this tickle too?" His eyes widen when he takes a deep breath, burying his face in his belly, and he squeals, bright and loud, when he blows a monstrous raspberry into his belly.

"EEEIIEIEIEIEIEIEIAIAIAIAIAIAAAAAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHA AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHOHO! AEEIEIEIEIAIIAIAIAHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHHAABE AHAHHAHAHAHAHHAAABE! EEEIEIIAIAIAIIAAIAAAHAHAHAHAHHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAA NOHOHOHHOHOOHO NOHOHOHOT THOHOHOHOSE! EIEIEIIEAIAIIAAIAIAHAHAHAAAAAHAHHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOOT BEHEHEHEHEERRIEEEEESSSSSS! EIEIEIAIAIAAIAAAAAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA AHAHAHHAAABE! ABE!"

"Oh, that's lovely." Abraxos pulls away from his belly, smiling down at him as he giggles breathlessly, waiting for him to catch his breath. "Now, Thaddy told me about this spot, this special spot, this really special, special spot. He said it was right about," he reaches back, down between his legs, and Hamaliel just _knows_. He knows that Thaddy is the biggest _traitor_. "Here." He screeches loudly, when he digs a finger in the inner undercurve of his left cheek, arching his back, pounding his fists on the mattress under him as he clenches up and throws his head back, before falling limp, collapsing back down. Abraxos chuckles lightly. "My, my, this is a special spot. I'll have to remember this for later."

Hamaliel shakes his head, kicking his legs, reaching out to try and push the Power's arm away. "Do you want me to stop?" His boy nods, oh, how he nods. "Give me a hug?" The boy pushes himself forward, throwing his arms around his neck, and he laughs softly, curling his arms around him as he turns them over, laying him over his chest. "That was fun."

"Mehehean! Sohoho mean!"

"I stopped didn't I?"

Hamaliel giggles softly, patting the Power's chest lightly with his left hand. "You're a tickle monster like Thaddy."

"Who did you think Thaddy learned to be a tickle monster from?"

…

"Are you making your famous chocolate cake?"

Hamaliel looks up at the new voice, so far, it's only been him and Abe, sure, there were others there, but they typically left them alone, he assumed it was to let him get settled in peacefully. He freezes, chocolate cake batter covered spoon halfway to his mouth, when _he _comes around the corner. The medic, Puriel, he said his name was at their introduction, it had been short and brief, and he'd hidden behind Abe's arm the whole time.

"Oh, hi, Hama." Puriel smiles at him, leaning over to dip his fingers in the bowl he's slowly cleaning of remaining batter, and yelps when his hand is smacked away. "Aaaabe!"

Abraxos wags a finger at him, his other hand on his hip. "Only my helpers get to clean the bowl."

"But! But!" He flounders, crossing his arms. "I didn't even know you were making your chocolate cake, or I would have helped!"

"I know you would have, my little platypus," the older Power coos playfully, squishing his cheeks together, he pulls him in closer, pressing a firm kiss to his forehead. "That's exactly why I didn't tell you. I wanted to bake this cake with Hama."

"Aww, papa!"

Hamaliel feels slightly out of place, and he looks down at the batter covered spoon, he feels as though he should give it to Puriel, he's clearly Abe's helper. He calls him _'papa', _they're an actual family, he's just someone who was given to him on the side. He's just here until he's old enough to pick his flock, or whenever they deem it alright enough that he doesn't need a guardian.

"Oh, don't look so down, my little hummingbird." He looks up with wide eyes, fingers pressing under his chin, and Abraxos smiles at him. "That's right, you're my little hummingbird, my little chocolate covered hummingbird. Just because I've known Puri longer doesn't mean I love him any more then I do you, nor you any less then I do him, I love you just as much."

"M—Mean it?"

"I mean it." He taps the bowl with a ringed finger. "Now, you finish cleaning up that bowl."

Hamaliel smiles, licking the chocolate covered spoon, nodding happily, and looks over to the medic when his guardian turns back to doing the dishes. "You look like me!"

He tilts his head, smiling slightly. "I do?"

"Yea!" He points the spoon at him. "You have a belly like mine!"

"Ooh," Puriel nods, patting his belly. "And, proud of it."

"You mean," he pauses to take a lick. "You're not….You're not ashamed of it?"

"Oh, heaven's no, I love my belly." He leans back against the counter, Hamaliel's foot rubs against his though, and pats his belly again. "It's like a pillow, I'm the best one to take naps on, if you ever want to try it out, you just come find me."

Abe turns swiftly, reaching out to poke him in the belly, and Puriel squeaks, jumping in place. "It's also the best belly for tickles."

"You say that about every chubby belly."

"Only because it's true." He turns back to the dishes.

Puriel smiles at the back of his head, turning to look to the youngling next to him. "So you're papa's kid, huh?"

Hamaliel scoops out another spoonful and takes a big lick. "He's my guardian, but this weeks a trial week, Thaddy said he'd come at the end of the week to see how it's going."

"Well, if papa's your guardian, then that means you're a part of our family, and if that's the case, then that makes me one of your big brothers."

He takes a lick, tilting his head questioningly. "Big brothers?"

"Yep, four big brothers, I'm the oldest, then there's Rahatiel, and Sablo, then Chayyliel. You're the baby of the family."

Abraxos takes the bowl and spoon once he licks up the last drop of batter, holds his chin lightly as he wipes his face clean from the chocolate batter, and lifts him off the counter, setting him on his feet. "Puri, why don't you got introduce him to everyone while the cake bakes."

"Sure, come on, squirt, they've been absolutely _dying _to meet you."

…

Thaddeus smiles across from them on his couch, watching his young released prisoner squirm and giggle, as the Power poked him in the sides. "So, how was your week, marshmallow?" Abraxos is kind enough to stop tormenting him so he can answer, curling his arms around his waist, allowing the boy to settle down in his lap, leaning back against his chest. "Having any doubts?"

"Abe is the best, Thaddy!" They both smile at the boy's exclamation. "He's so nice! He lets me stay up late, as long as I'm not grumpy in the morning, or at least, he says I'm allowed to, but he cuddles up with me when he's ready for bed and he's super warm and it makes me fall asleep anyway! He reads me stories at night and tucks me in, just like you did, and he's the _biggest _tickle monster!"

He chuckles softly. "I told you he was, didn't I?"

Hamaliel nods happily. "He makes me hotcakes, and I love hotcakes, and he makes the _best _chocolate cake, he lets me lick the spoon and clean the bowl, and it's so yummy!"

"It sounds like you've been having a good time, I'm glad, I'd hoped you would." The Warden leans back slightly. "Do you want to stay here with Abe, or do you want to come back with me?"

The youth curls his fingers around the Power's wrists, leaning back against him more completely. "I want to stay with Abe, he's the best!"

Thaddeus smiles, tapping his knee lightly with a few fingers. "And, I know you were fearful, what does the mighty Power say about your little belly?"

Abraxos chuckles softly, wiggling the fingers of his right hand over the boy's belly, Hamaliel shrieks softly, squirming around in his lap. "Yes, little hummingbird, just what does the mighty Power say about this little tummy?"

"It's peheheherfect! Peheheherfect ahahahand tihihhihickly!"

"And tell us, just what _is_ this tummy?"

He shrieks once more when those finger claw into his belly just a bit more viciously. "Pahahahhaappaahahaha's tihihihickle tuhuhummy! Pahahahappahahaha's tihihihickle tuhuhuhummy! Pahahahappaahahahaha nohohoho! Nohohot thehehe clahahahaw! Nohohot thehehe clahahahaw!"

"Oh, alright," he leans forward, pressing a quick kiss to the side of the boy's head. "Not right now, but the claw may make a reappearance later today."

Hamaliel giggle at the thought of it, curling his arms around his belly, and the Warden smiles at the pair of them. "Papa? That's mighty progress in a single week."

"What can I say?" The Power smiles at him from behind the boy sitting in his lap. "I have the magic touch when it comes to you young ones. I seem to remember a certain someone calling me _'papa' _too. I don't hear it much too often anymore, why is that?" He tilts his head slightly, resting his chin on the boy's shoulder, teasing the older angel, older then the boy, but so much younger then him. "I seem to remember a certain someone calling me _and _his guardian _'papa', _why'd that stop, hmm?"

He chuckles softly, and Hamaliel giggles quietly, when the Warden blushes a deep red and looks down to his hands, to hide a smile. Hamaliel hadn't been sure who Abe had been talking about, he's known a lot of people in his day, but seeing his greatest friends reaction, he knows, for sure, who Abe is talking about.

"Aaabe." The Warden whines softly, smiling down at his hands, curling his fingers together. "Stooop."

"What happened to that, you little Tasmanian Devil, why'd it stop?"

Thaddeus smiles again, shaking his head, refusing to look up at him, Abe has him wrapped around his finger and he knows it too. He's such a tease, Abe had always teased him, he always did his best to make him blush and giggle, not this time, he's not giggling in front of his little marshmallow, he's got a certain reputation to uphold. "You haven't called me that in ages." He rubs at his cheek lightly. "I was too old to call you _'papa' _anymore."

"Well, that stopped, when _'papa' _stopped."

Thaddeus glances up at him, something in his expression looks sadder, and Hamaliel feels sad for him. "I'm not…I'm not your little Tasmanian Devil anymore?"

Abraxos smiles at him lightly. "Oh, you'll always be my little Tasmanian Devil, just as you'll always bee the others little frog." He makes a face, it's a kind face, the kind of face that means he's just teasing. "What's wrong, though, I thought you were _'too old'_ for that."

"I just…" He rubs at his head lightly, looking back down to his lap, he feels as though the tables have turned on him, where as he was the one doing the teasing, now he's the one being teased. "I just miss being called that, your little Tasmanian Devil, I liked it."

"I liked it when you called me _'papa'_." The Power squeezes the boy in his lap comfortingly, pressing another kiss to the side of his head, he leans forward slightly, adjusting his position, and he leans back again, against the back of the couch. "It made me feel loved."

Thaddeus nods lightly, peeking up at him. "Will you…Will you call me your little Tasmanian Devil again?"

"Will you call me _'papa' _again?"

The Warden blushes again. "I….I don't know, Abe."

"How about I _entice _you?" He pats Hamaliel on the belly lightly. "I could send Hama back to play with his older brothers, drag you back to my room, _my _chamber, pin you down, and have a good go at that one little _really special _spot, how about I _entice_ you?"

Thaddeus smiles, looking back down to his lap, giggling softly, despite his best efforts to swallow them back. "Aaaabe, stoooop."

"All it takes is one finger, just one, I'll wiggle it in that one _really special _spot, until I've got you absolutely _screaming _with laughter, calling me _'papa' _again, _begging_ me to stop, and maybe I will or maybe I won't, it just depends on what kind of mood I'm in."

He giggles harder at the threat, and Abraxos smiles, patting Hamaliel on the belly again. "Hummingbird, why don't you go see what Sab and Raha are doing?"

The youth giggles softly, clamoring off his lap. "Okay, papa."

Thaddeus's eyes widen, and he stands quickly, ready to make his leave at that moment, but he's caught, the Power stands, standing at least a good head and a half taller then him, blocking his path. "Not so fast, you little Tasmanian Devil, we've got business to attend to."

"N—Now, now," he holds his hands up defensively. "A—Ab—Papa—Papa, let's talk about this…"

"I think we've already talked about it, come here, you." The older angel's hand shoots out, catching him by the wrist, and tugs him forward, it's so sudden that he stumbles forward, the Power leans over slightly, and tugs him up over his shoulder. "Now, now I think it's the time for us to get to our _very_ important business."


	373. A Small Reprieve

He sighs, staring up at the ceiling, patting his belly lightly as he just lays there. He's read all the books he can read, it's gaining closer and closer to his new bedtime, and he wants to make sure he's not out of bed when that time comes because he doesn't want another day to be added to his punishment. He hasn't been truly outside of his room for over a month, he's almost sure he's forgotten what the outside world looks like, he hasn't had a sweet all that time either, he really wanted a sweet, but he didn't think he deserved one, he'd hurt his baby brother, he'd hurt him badly, he'd been calling him _'medic' _when they crossed paths, and it hurt, he wasn't _'Puri' _anymore, he wasn't family, he was just _'medic'_ and he missed being _'big brother' _more then he missed any kind of sweet.

"Puri?" His breath catches, he knows that voice, that voice hadn't called him that in _over _a month. He sits himself up, staring at the sight in his doorway, his little baby brother, the baby starfish, their baby Power, stands there, looking at him with guarded eyes, cautious, as though he's afraid he'll turn away from him, and it makes guilt settle in the pit of his belly. Sablo stares at him, holding a plate of cookies in his hands, standing there nervously. "I wanted you to know that I forgive you."

He inhales sharply, pushing himself forward, climbing off the foot of his bed, rushing forward to meet the younger angel. Sablo squeaks as he curls around him, moving his arms to keep the plate of cookies from tumbling to their feet. "I am so sorry, baby brother, so, _so _sorry."

"It's okay, big brother."

Puriel shakes his head, reaching up to cradle the back of his head, holding him as close and tight as he can. "It's not, baby brother, it's not okay, I was really wrong, really, _really _wrong. I am so sorry."

Sablo rests his chin against the medic's shoulder. "I forgive you, big brother." He falls silent for a moment. "Papa and I made cookies, he said I could give you some, he said you'd been doing really good and earned a reward."

The medic smiles lightly. "You can have the cookies, knowing you forgive me is better than any sweet."

"I want you to have these cookies. I already had seven. Papa says I don't need anymore."

"You've had _seven _cookies?" He exclaims softly. "Sab, you're a little piggy."

The youth giggles lightly. "They were really yummy."

"It's almost time for me to be in bed."

He shakes his head. "Papa said we can stay up together."

"I'd love to have your cookies." Puriel reaches out for the plate of cookies and sets it on the table next to the door. "But there's another treat I've missed just as much as I've missed sweets." He squats slightly and curls his arms under his bottom, lifting him off his feet as he stands, Sablo squeaks as he's lifted, and buries his fingers in the medic's curls. "Do you know what it is?"

The youth giggles softly, shaking his head. "No!"

"I've missed my belly."

"Puri, no!"

He turns them around towards his bed, carrying him forward, he knows the layout of his room like he knows the back of his head, he doesn't need to see where he's going, he knows he wont run into anything or trip. "Puri _needs _his belly."

"No, you don't! Puri!"

"Yes, he does." He sings softly, and drops them down onto his bed, Sablo shrieks softly as he bounces, and he secures himself over his legs, making himself comfortable. "Tickly torture time."

"Puhuhuri! Nohoho!"

He hums softly, pushing the youngest Power's shift up. "Let me see my belly." He looks the belly over carefully. "My belly!" He turns, pressing the side of his head to the belly, as though he's hugging it. "I missed my belly!" He pulls back, leaning in to press kisses over the shaking belly surface, Sablo giggles furiously, trying to cover his belly with his hands.

"Puhuhuhuri!"

That voice is _not _his baby brother, at least, not the one he has with him. He turns to investigate, and sees his mentor standing in the doorway, holding his _other _baby brother over his shoulder. The both of them are still giggling softly, and Abraxos smiles at him. "Hello, my little tickle monster."

"Hi, papa."

"Let's say we have a bit of a competition?"

Puriel tilts his head, wiggling a finger in his baby brother's side, he giggles harder, curving away from him, Rahatiel giggles harder too, squirming over the older Power's shoulder. "A competition?"

"Yes, a competition, to see who can make them laugh the hardest."

"That sounds promising," he smiles cheekily, glad to be back in his papa's good graces, and wiggles a finger in his baby brother's other side. "Don't be upset when you lose."

"Me? Lose?" Abraxos steps into his room. "I don't think so, I taught you everything you know. I made you into the little tickle monster you are today." He comes up beside him, leaning forward to drop his cargo on the bed, Rahatiel giggles up at him as he climbs up over his legs. "Don't _you _be upset when _you _lose. I beat you here and take you as my prize."

The medic makes a face. "What do I get if I win?" He looks over at his mentor and Abraxos turns to look at him. "This seems a bit unfair."

"I'll let you get me without the expected consequences."

Puriel smiles. "Deal."

His mentor returns his smile and turns back to look down at his victim, Rahatiel giggles up at him lightly, reaching down to push at his hands as he slowly pushes his tunic up. "You stop struggling or I forgo this entire competition and simply torture you to simply torture you." His hands fall away, dropping back to his sides, simply sticking to giggling up at him. "A few rules, one really, no berries." He bumps his shoulder against the medic's playfully. "Not yet, those can be the prize for the winner."

Puriel smiles, leaning against the older Power's shoulder lightly, smiling wider when he feels him shift and lips press lightly to the side of his head, he loves his papa, he loves him very much. "Anything else goes?"

"Anything else goes."

He pokes a finger into the youngest Power's belly, and he's not disappointed when both of them begin to giggle squeaky little giggles, squirming slightly from side to side. "I agree to those terms. Who goes first?"

Abraxos bumps his shoulder lightly again. "Do you want to go first; you've been rather on your own for over the last month."

"I'll go first, thank you, papa."

"Any time, little platypus, you should have your fun."

The medic smiles, pulling the baby Power's arms out slightly. "These stay here, or I go down and nibble on those toes for an hour." Sablo giggles at the thought of it, he'd only followed through on that threat once, it had been the most torturous hour of his life, he thought he was going to die, death from laughter, what a way to go. He nods, curling his fingers into the blankets, giggling harder when the older Power leans over to the left, and he curls slightly to the right, looking down to watch him closely. He chuckles softly, wiggling a finger in his other side, and he giggles harder, scooting back over. "You're not getting away from me, come back here."

Puriel looks back down to his side, and the youth giggles harder in anticipation, he knows it's coming, his older brother is such a tease. He leans in close, Sablo giggles harder, Rahatiel bites his lip, and he buries his face in the younger Power's side, nibbling lightly on the slight roll of fat down around his waist. Sablo squeals brightly and his brother shrieks, both squirming from side to side, the youngest kicks his feet and the older presses his hands to his side, as though to block an invisible attack.

"EEIEIIEIAIAIAAAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAA NOHOHOHOHOHO! NOHOHOHOHO PUHUHUHUHURRIIHIHIHII NOHOHOHOHOO! NOHOHO EIEIEIEIAIAIAIAAHAAHAHHAHAAHAAAHAHHAHAHAHAA NOHOHOHO NIHIHIHIBBLES!"

"Ieeiieieieieieiiaaiaiaiahahhahahahahhaa nohohohoo! Nohohohot thahahahhaat! Nohhohohohoho fahahahaaair! Nohohohoho fahhahahahahhaaair! Puhuhuhuhurriiii! Plehehehehheeease! Eeeiieieieiieaiiaiaiaiiaaaahahahahahahahhaa!"

Puriel chuckles, and pulls away, turning to look at the older Power, Abraxos smiles at him. "Beat that, papa."

"Oh, I can beat that easily." The older Power looks down at his captive victim, Rahatiel giggles harder, begging him not to, with all this going on, he can't focus enough to close out their bond so he doesn't feel what his baby brother feels. Abraxos curls his fingers in the waist of his trousers and pulls them down slightly, licks his lips playfully, and buries his face in his lower waist, nibbling on the sensitive skin playfully.

Rahatiel squeals and Sablo shrieks loudly, both shimmying from side to side, Rahatiel curls his fingers tightly in the blankets under him, throwing his head back as he cackles madly.

"EEIEIEIIEAIIAIAIIAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA PAHAHAHAHAPAPAAHAHAHAHAHA! IEIEIEIEIEIEIAIAAIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHA NOHHOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEEHEEREEREHEHEHEHHEHE! AHAHAHHAHAAIEIEIEIEIAIAIAIAAHAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA PLEHHEHEHEHEHEHEEASE! PLEHEHEHEHEEEASE! NOHOHOOHOT NIHIHIHIHIBBLES NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE! AAHEHHEEIEIEIIEIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA!"

Sablo squeals with him, drilling his heels into the bed, shaking his head. "EIEIEEIAIIAAIAIAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHOHO PAAHAHAHAHAHAPAPAAHAHAHAHHAHA! NOHOHHOHOOT THEHEHEHEHEERRRRREEEHEHEEHHEE! PLEHEHEHEHHEEEASE! EEEIIEIEIAIAIAAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA PLEHEHEHEHHEHEEASE NOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEHEERE! EIEIEIAIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA! NOHOHOHOHOT MOHOHOHORE NIHIHIHIHIBBLES!"

Abraxos chuckles as he pulls away, turning to look at his other boy, Puriel glowers at him and he chuckles again, leaning over to kiss him on the nose. "I win."

"That's just not fair!"

"I'm the big bad tickle monster around here, little baby tickle monster, I know my stuff." He wiggles a finger in Rahatiel's belly button, and both brothers squeak, shrieking with laughter. "I know all my little potential victims really well."

"I shouldn't have ever taken your challenge!" Puriel drops his face down over Sablo's belly, and the youngest Power giggles madly, just at the thought of the off chance of him blowing his cruel berries while he's laying there. "I feel like such a chump."

"Don't feel like a chump, baby platypus, Thaddy's challenged me too, and he loses every time." He leans over to press a kiss to the medic's cheek, rubbing his nose over his ear. "I just know what I'm doing all too well." He tugs at his ear lightly with his teeth and pulls back. "I think this means I get to claim my prize."

Puriel huffs and looks over at the older Power. "Can we do berries first?"

"Together?"

He nods.

"Sure, platypus."

Sablo and Rahatiel's eyes widen when they take simultaneous deep breaths and bury their faces into their bellies, screeching loudly when they blow out at the same time, finally letting go of the blankets to push at their heads, screaming with laughter when they blow another long nasty raspberry. They carry on until they're breathless, squeals having fallen silently, and then they pulls away for good.

Abraxos hums, petting Sablo's hair lightly, the young baby Power stretched out between his legs, his head resting on his belly, Rahatiel curled around his left arm, and Puriel curled around his right, munching on his cookies quietly, all of them just content to lay there together. He turns, pressing a kiss to the side of the medic's head. "I forgive you, baby platypus, you've been doing so well, I'm ending your grounding early."

"Thanks papa." He swallows his bite of his cookie. "I'm really sorry."

"I know you are, platypus, all's forgiven."

He finishes his last cookie, and turns slightly, setting the plate on his bedside table, and cuddles down around his mentor's arm. "I love you, papa."

"I love you too, platypus."


	374. Always A Prisoner

"Oh, Dama, having you in this position brings back so many good memories." He strokes his fingers up and down his arms lightly, just barely making it into his armpits, and it's enough to make the young guard feverishly giggle up at him. He stands at his head, leaning over him slightly, stroking his fingers up and down his arms, feather light, barely touching, and it drives the youth crazy. "Does this bring as many good memories back for you as it does for me?" Damabiath shakes his head, he thought he was passed this, he was a guard now, he thought this only happened to prisoners, he was being proven wrong quite fast. "It doesn't? That comes as a true surprise, seeing as to how hard you'd be laughing." His hands come to a stop just above his armpits, and he pokes a finger into each armpit. "Remember all the fun we had with these armpits. Oh, I know all too well how sensitive they are, _all _too well, have they had many tickles since we last saw each other?"

Damabiath bites his lip, giggling harder, with the fingers poking into his armpits, they just lay there, but he knows how torturous the Warden can be. He wiggles his fingers slightly and he squeaks softly, giggling even harder. "Have they, Dama?"

He knows he's going to regret it, but he shakes his head, and Thaddeus smiles down at him, it's not a nice smile, well, it is, but it means torture is coming. "Oh, really?" He poises his fingers over his armpits. "We have to remedy that." Damabiath shakes his head feverishly, tugging at his wrists, even though he knows they're well and truly secured. "I'm gonna get ya." He lifts his hands and flutters his fingers lightly just above his armpits. "I'm gonna get ya."

"Thahahahhaaaddyyy nohohohoho! Pleheheheheheease! Eehhehehehehhehehhehe! Plehehehehheease nohohhohohohoho!" He looks between both hands frantically, eyes wide and alert, watching him wiggle his fingers lightly. "Pleheheheheease! Plehehehehehheease Thahahahahadddyyyy! Pleehehehehheheeease nohohohoho!"

"Oh, yes, it's coming." He lowers his hands slowly, wiggling his fingers faster, and his giggling picks up even more. "It's almost there." The young guard shakes his head again, curling from side to side, trying to make his escape. "Here is comes."

"Thaahahahhahahahaaddyyy! Nohhhohohohoho! Plehehehehheeease! Nohohohohoot thahahahhahat! Eeieieieiaiaiaaiaahahahhahaaahahahahahahhahaa nohohohohoho nohohohohot thehehehehehehere! Eieieieieiiaiiaiaiaiaiahaahhaahahahahahhahaha ahahhahahahahaha plehehehehheeease! Eieieiieaiaiaiaaahahahahhahahaha ahahahhahaha Thahahahhahaddyyy!"

"It's here, it's arrived." The Warden flutters his fingers over his armpits lightly, Damabiath shrieks with laughter, shaking his head again, tugging at his arms, twisting them around frantically. "These armpits need some tickles."

"Thehehehhey dohhohohohohon't! Eieieieiaaaiaiaiahahahahahhahaha thehehehey dohohohohoon't! Thahahahahahaddyyy! Ahahahahahahaa eieieiieieiaiaiaiaiaahahahahahahhaha! Thehehehehheey dohhoohohohon't!"

"I think they do." Thaddeus leans over to the right, fluttering ten fingers over his right armpit, Damabiath shrieks, waving his elbow wildly, as much as his binds will allow. "And I'm _never_ wrong when it comes to tickles."

"Yohohohhohohou ahhahhahahahahahare thohohohohough! Yohohohhohohou ahahahhaare! Eieieieiaaiaiaaahahahahahhahaa ahahhaahhahahaahha nohohohohohoho! Nohohohohot theheheheheere! Plehehehheeease!"

He turns to the other side, fluttering ten fingers over his left armpit, and the young guard squeals softly, flexing his fingers under his assault. "A little over here. Just a warm up. Remember the scrub brush?" The youth squeals just at the mention of it, shaking his head feverishly, just the mention of the dreaded scrub brush is enough to drive him wild. Thaddeus smiles at his reaction. "I thought you would."

As if on cue, the door to the chamber swings open, and one of the Elder guards steps in, carrying a sudsy bucket with him. Thaddeus pulls away from him to take the bucket from him, nods in thanks, and the Elder guard turns to make his leave, leaving the younger to the Warden's questionable mercy. Thaddeus sets the bucket down in front of his head. "We can't have any berries until I know these armpits are nice and clean." He reaches into the bucket, and the youth squeals again, at mere sight alone. "Guess what I had brought for us?" He holds the scrub brush up for him to see. "That's not it though." He reaches back in and withdraws a second one. "We have _two_."

Damabiath looks between them both with wide eyes, one is bad enough, two is just wrong, Thaddy's a jerk when he wants to be, a real mean jerk. "Nohohohoho! Nohohoot thahahahaat! Nohohohot thahahahahat!"

"Get them nice and soapy." He dips the two scrub brushes into the sudsy water. "The water's nice and warm too."

The guard shakes his head, tugging on his arms and kicking his legs, watching those two dreaded brushes carefully.

"There we go, nice and soapy, all ready, let's get to scrubbing." Damabiath shakes his head as he watches Thaddeus turn back to him and hover the dripping brushes over his armpits. "We'll get you nice and clean." He squeals with laughter when he starts scrubbing the scrub brushes over his armpits, kicking his legs again, throwing his head back as he cackles bright and loud. "Scrub-a-dub-dub."

"EIEIEIEEEIEIIEIEIEIAAIAAHAAAAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAA AHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAA NOHOHOHOHOHOO EIEIEIIEAIIAAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA! NOHOHOHOHOT THAHAHAHHAAT! EIEIEIIAIAIAIAAAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAA NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHE BRUHUHUHUHUSH! EEIEIEIEIAIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHOHOT THAHAHAHHAAHAAT THAHAHAHHAADDYYYY PLEHEHEHEHHEEASE! EIEIEIEIAIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHHAHAA I CAHAHHAHAHAHAAAN'T TAHAHAHAHAKE IHIHIHHIIT IEIEIEIEIEIEEIAIAIAIAIAAAAAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAA! IHIHIHIHI CAHAHAHAHAAN'T TAHAHAHAHAHAKE IHIHHIHIIT EIEIEIIEAIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAAHAAAAAHAHAHAHHHAHAHAHAA EIEIEIAIAHAHHAHAHAHAAAHHAA AHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHO!"

He tugs, tugs at his arms as much as he can, putting all his strength into it, squealing and cackling with bright laughter, shaking his head feverishly, frantically, something squeezes his hand together, it's tight, too tight, and then his left arm flies down, his fingers curling around his right armpit, to block the brush.

"Ohoho, oh my god," Thaddeus laughs, dropping the two scrub brushes in the bucket, and fluidly moves the bucket to the table behind him. "You broke yourself free, that's a first, how did someone as small as you manage to slip free, those cuffs are wrapped pretty securely."

The little guard merely giggles breathlessly up at him, his left arm pressed down tightly, fingers curled around his right armpit. "Nohoho mohohohore! Nohoho moohohohore!"

"Oh, you've had enough, have you?"

Damabiath nods quickly. "Nohoho mohohohore Thahahaddy! Nohoho mohohore! Pleheheease!"

He smiles down at the young guard. "How about some cuddles then, a nice nap, does that sound better then more tickles?"

The little guard nods. "Yehehess! Behehetter! Cuddles! Nahap!"

"Give me a kiss?" He puckers his lips, leaning over his head, and the guard giggles softly, starting to wind down, and pushes himself up, presses a quick kiss to his lips. "Alright, nap time, it is." He reaches over to untie the strap from around his right wrist, and curls his fingers under his arms, when he hugs himself tightly, and tugs him up. "Come on, little dandelion."

Damabiath turns slightly, hoping down from the table, tumbling over into the Warden's side. "Easy, easy," he settles him on his feet. "Got your land legs back?" He waits until the guard nods before letting him go, he pulls him back into his side though, as he turns them towards the door, and guides him across the room. "Let's go take a nap."


	375. I'm With You

She scrambles up the stairs, her hands shaking, fingers itching for something, for that release, for the feeling she gets after she does it, she wants it, she wants it so bad. Just a few of them, just a few times, it's not so bad, it's her body, she should be able to do what she wants with it.

But she made him a promise. She'd promised him she'd come to him when she had those urges again. She doesn't want to break her promise, and have him never trust her again, he was like a dad to her, he was so kind, he made talking about stuff fun, not like the other doctors she's talked to before, he's different, and she doesn't want to ruin that.

She runs through the Lounge, passed the kitchen, and down the hall to his room. Throwing the door open, her hands shake as she tugs her top up over her head, throwing it on the floor, she jumps to his wardrobe, ripping the door open, she reaches in for the first tunic she can, tugging it off the hanger quickly, she tugs it over her head, sliding her arms in the sleeves. It's much too big, she could wear it as a dress if she wanted to, she balls the sleeves up in her fingers and squeezes, her eyes seeking something sharp, something smooth and edged, something that could slice cleaning across her wrist, across her skin, any patch of skin really, it didn't matter where. Her eyes find one of his daggers, resting in a belt on a hook next to his desk, his sword rests under it. They find the small exacto knife she uses for her art projects, small thin lines, she just needs the feeling, it makes her feel better.

She presses her fists to her ears, bending forward on herself, she wants to scream, to silence the voices telling her to do it, to break her promise, to take one of his daggers, to carve the words that echo in her head in her hazel skin, to write them in the red of her own blood, to carve them in deep so they scar, the voices tell her to do it, screw their promise, she needs it, it'll make her feel better again, it'll only be a few minutes, and after that everything will go back to normal again.

Tears gather in her eyes, she doesn't want to be a liar, she doesn't want to be two faced, promise him one thing and do the opposite. He's given her a lot of trust, trust she probably doesn't deserve, and she doesn't want to shove it back in his face.

Spinning around, she runs from the room, her fists still pressed firmly to her ears, the voices in her head getting louder, yelling at her, ordering her to turn around, and she pauses, in the middle of the Lounge, and squeezes her eyes shut, mentally yelling at them to _shut up. _

_Shut up, shut up, shut up!_

They yell back, spitting words at her, words she knows are true, but he's been telling her that aren't. She steps forward, jumping down the stairs two at a time, running down the hall, passed the Archangel's office, she sees a flash of emerald from the corner of her eye, he's looked up to see her dart passed, fists pressed firmly to her ears, she hopes he doesn't come to investigate, she's only met him a few times, and she doesn't want him to see her like this, like the broken mess she is.

She stops at the end of the hall, eyes searching through the masses, searching him out. He'd help her, he'd make it better again, he'd know what to do, he'd know how to make the voices be quiet again and how to stop them from convincing her to _do it_. She spots him, standing a ways away, talking to another healer, going through someone's chart, and she hates to interrupt him, she doesn't want to be a burden, to be a nuisance, but she doesn't know what else to do, she's _this _close to giving in and listening to those voices, doing what they're telling her to do, that sweet, sweet release.

She feels so _broken_.

She darts forward, crashing into people as she does, she doesn't care, she doesn't stop, she wants them to be _quiet_, they're getting louder and it's starting to become overwhelming, she just wants it to _stop_.

He looks up at the commotion, eyebrows raising, then furrowing, and passes the chart back to the healer at his side, stepping away from them, catching her before she can trip over her own feet in her rush.

She looks up when she feels hands curl around her shoulders, straightening her from her hunched position, and her eyes meet hers, and she just _breaks. _Tears come to her eyes and she jumps forward, burying her face in his chest, hands pressed firmly to her ears, soaking the front of his tunic.

"Jaleel, what's wrong?" It takes a moment, he's probably a bit stunned, but his arms curl around her in turn, holding her close, she hears his voice above those shouting in her head, and she looks up at him. "What's wrong, 'Leel?"

"Make them stop!"

"Make what stop?" Akriel's brows furrow and he leans over, closer, so he can hear her better, she's speaking too softly. "Make what stop, 'Leel?"

"The _voices_! Make them stop! Make them be quiet! Please, Ak, _please _make them stop!"

"The voices?" He sounds concerned now. "You're hearing voices?"

She nods frantically, her eyes wide as they stare up at him. "They're telling me to do _bad _stuff, Ak! I don't want to! Make them stop! Make them _stop_!"

The Mental Specialist nods, guiding her around gently, keeping her pressed to his side as he walks her back down the way she came. He can feel her shaking against him, she's at her wits end, she's right on that breaking point, and if they're not careful, she could spiral, and he wants to avoid that as best as he can. His eyes meet his Archangels, standing at the end of the hall, he'd most likely seen her dart passed his office and come to investigate, Raphael nods once, turning away from them, to appear as though he was doing something, they don't want the girl to know that too many people know of the demons she faces. He'd come check on things later.

Akriel leads her down the hall, away from the chattering and bustle of the Infirmary floor, and back up the stairs, through the Lounge, passed the kitchen, and down to their room. He turns her inside, and turns slightly over her head to close the door behind them, and guides her to sit on the edge of his bed, squatting down in front of her, he squeezes her knees, holding his hands out for her, and she slowly lowers her fists to press them to his palms, he squeezes her fists tightly. "I want you to listen to me, I know it's hard, but I want you to focus on my voice, can you do that?"

Jaleel nods slightly, it's a jerk of the head, and he nods in turn. "What happened, Jaleel?"

"I—I don't know, Ak!" She's wavering right on the edge and he can hear it in her voice. "It started off as a good day and then—and then—it just wasn't anymore! It all—It all became too much! I—I couldn't take it! The voices—The voices are telling me to do _it_! I don't want to! I don't want to do _it, _Ak! Make them stop! _Make them stop!_"

Akriel frowns lightly. "What are they telling you to do, Jaleel?"

"_It! _They're telling me to do _it_! I don't want to do _it, _Ak, I don't want to!"

"What is _'it'_?" He needs to know what she means, he needs her to elaborate, so he knows the true extent of what is going on. "What are they telling you to _do_?"

She tugs on her hands again, but he holds them tight. "They're telling me-They're telling me to _kill myself_! To slit my wrists! To do _it_! Make them stop, Ak, _make them stop!_" He can see her slowing tipping over the edge. "Make them stop, make them stop, _make them stop, make them stop, make them stop!_"

"I'm going to help you, alright," he squeezes her hands. "I'm going to make it better." He stands, keeping his eyes on her carefully, he makes his way over to the cupboard beside his desk, and pulls the door open, reaching inside for something, he reads a few labels, and nods, picking the one he's looking for out of the bunch, and closes the door. He pours a small glass of water from the pitcher on his desk, and turns back for her, passing her the glass, her hand shakes as she takes it, and he pulls the cap off the small bottle in his hand, shakes out three small white pills, curls them in his fingers as he caps the bottle once more and deposits it in his pocket. "Open up," she nods, opening her mouth, and he sets them on her tongue, taking the glass from her hands, he holds the edge to her lips. "Take a drink." She curls her lips over the edge and takes a large gulp, downing the pills in one swallow, he nods, leaving her again to set the glass down on his desk, and returns to her side. "Now, I'm going to numb your mind, it's going to clear your head, everything's just going to be _calm_, and it's going to make you very sleepy, alright?"

Jaleel nods up at him, and he curls his hands around the sides of her head, Akriel's used his grace on her before, not for this, but to heal the small cuts she makes when she's having her bad, _bad _days, it's warm and tingly, she knows what it feels like, and she closes her eyes when she feels it, her mind _clears_, the voices are _gone_, all she can feel are his hands curled around her head and his warm tingly grace washing over her. She falls forward, completely limp, her minds hazy, foggy, nearly asleep, and he catches her, lifting her up in a cradle hold, and walks around the edge of their bed, setting her on her side, he tucks her in, stroking her forehead lightly, sitting on the edge of the bed, and she smiles up at him faintly.

"T'anks….Ak…."

"You're welcome." He caresses her cheek lightly and she leans into the warm touch. "Thank you for coming to me."

"Wel'om."

"You're going to be alright, those pills I gave you, you'll take them every four hours for the next couple of days, and then once every morning after breakfast, after that, alright?"

"Wh't…do…..?"

Akriel smiles down at her, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. "They'll keep the voices quiet."

"Stay…?"

"I'm not going anywhere, I told you, we're in this together. I'm not leaving your side. We'll get through it together." He smiles down at her, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'll be here every step of the way."


	376. Paid Sick Time

"Alright, you two, open up." Rogziel and Mendrion does as he tells them and opens their mouths, watching him as he sticks a thermometer under their tongues, and looks to his watch as he waits for the appropriate amount of time to pass, then nods, reaching back out for the two thermometer's, humming under his breath as he checks the two temperature readings. "Just as I thought. You two should have stayed in bed this morning."

Rogziel rubs at his nose with the back of his hand, sniffling softly behind a runny nose. "Do you want us to go back, Thaddy?"

"In this rain?" He turns, setting the thermometer's on his desk. "In this time of year?" He turns back to the two of them and shakes his head. "I don't think so, mister, you're going straight upstairs and getting in bed." Thaddeus waves them around. "Come on, let's go, move it, misters." They both turn, stepping forward as he guides them both out of his office, around the corner, and up the stairs. He leans between them to open the door to his room, and pushes them inside gently, closing the door behind him. "Alright you two, get yourselves ready for bed, go on."

The two young guards nod, and he leaves them for a moment to stoke up the fire, to warm the room up nice and toasty. They both kick off their boots, shucking out of their trousers, and he turns back, gesturing to the bed, and they nod, climbing up on the Warden's bed, they slide under the blanket's together.

"Alright, you two get some sleep," the Warden sits on the edge of the bed, at Rogziel's side, and rubs both of their cheeks. "I'll bring some soup up later for supper."

He makes to stand, but the young guard next to him, curls his fingers around his wrist, Rogziel looks up at him pitifully. "Papa, stay."

"Little rhino, I got work to do."

He pouts lightly. "Stay, papa."

Thaddeus heaves a sigh, and nods in defeat, he can't deny them anything when they look at him like _that_. "Alright, I'll stay, you little cuddle bug." He leans over, untying his boots, and pulls them off, climbing up over him, to settle between the two of them. He raises his right arm slightly. "Come on in, baby rhino." Rogziel smiles, scooting in close to his side, cuddling down close, pressing his ear to the side of his chest. He turns to the other one, and lifts his left arm slightly. "You too, manta ray, cuddle in close." Mendrion smiles, scooting in closer, ducking under his arm to rest his head on the side of his chest. "Okay, now, you're all cuddled in close, now, close those eyes and get some sleep."

Rogziel nods closer, reaching up to curl his fingers in the front of his tunic. "Love you, papa." Mendrion follows his example. "Yea, love you, papa."

"I love you both, too." He presses a kiss to both of their heads. "Now, go to sleep."


	377. Playing Favorites

When the two of them arrive, in the midst of an argument, anyone who's been around long enough knows that the best course of action is to alert their Archangel. He'll sort it out, and stop any possible carnage that may ensue, and bring peace back between the two of them, it'll be a great time, they just have to find out what's managed to bring the two to odds.

"That's not fair!"

"Life isn't fair!"

"He favors you more!"

"He favors _you _more!"

"He does not!"

"He does too!"

"He does _not_!"

"He does _too_!"

"Boys," Oren smirks at them as he steps between them, and the Archangel stands before them, his hands resting on his hips. "Boys, what's the meaning of this squabble between you two, it's unlike you two to argue between each other."

"You favor him more!" Iaoth points at his brother. Adonai points right back. "You favor _him _more!"

Raphael pinches at the bridge of his nose, heaving a deep sigh, and shakes his head in exasperation, before looking back down to the two of them. "You're arguing about which one of you I like more over the other?" He shakes his head once more, holding his hands out to them. "Come, come on, come with me."

They nod, seeming to catch the exasperation in his tone, and step forward, he curls his arms around their shoulders as he turns them around, guiding them back in the direction of his office. They lean into his sides, reaching up to curl their fingers around his belt, and he squeezes their shoulders as he leads them down the hall and turns them into his office, guiding them down in the chairs on the other side of his desk.

"Cookie?" He holds a plate out to them, and they both thank him softly, taking a cookie off the top. "You can thank Puriel and Peliel when you see them." The Healer crosses around behind his desk, falling back into his chair, and crosses his arms lightly. "Where did this idea come about, that I favor one of you over the other, that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"Arlo said—"

"Yea, Arlo said—"

_"Arlo?"_

Their mouths snap closed at his tone, it's not a tone they hear often, directed at them especially.

Iaoth and Adonai jump slightly when smacks a hand down on his desk, it's not like the calm collected Healer to lose his temper, his bright blue eyes flit up to them at the movement, and the electric blue fades to warm emerald green. "I'm sorry, my little ones, I did not mean to startle you." He pushes himself up, crossing out from behind his desk, and they turn to watch him cross to the door, yanking it open, he barks something out to someone standing at the end of the hall.

Raphael turns back, looking at the both of them, and heaves a sigh, shaking his head again, he crosses back over the length of his office to sit back at his desk. "Come here, come," he holds his hands out to them, and they push themselves up from their chairs, scurrying around his desk, they both take a hand and he pulls them down to sit with him, curling his arms around their waists, pulling them back, and they rest against his sides.

A shadow turns the corner before the body does, and a young male steps into the Archangel's office, Oren shoves him forward lightly, Raphael glares at him slightly, and the Virtue closes the door behind him.

"Arlo, thank you for coming." The Healer's tone is deceptively kind, Iaoth and Adonai turn to look at him, he doesn't spare them a glance, but he does squeeze their waist's firmly. "Would you care to enlighten me on something?"

Arlo licks his lips lightly. "On what?"

"Would you care to enlighten me as to why _my _two younglings are telling me you told them I favored one over the other?"

He blinks. "W—What?"

"Let me make it plain for you, why are _my _two younglings are telling me you've been instigating fights between the two of them?"


	378. Some Much Needed Love

He lifts his head from his pillow when he hears a soft knock on his bedroom door and calls out softly. "Come in." The door opens, and his mentor steps in, turning to close the door behind him. "Is something wrong, papa?"

Abraxos turns to look at him, and crosses over to stand at the foot of his bed, placing his hands on his hips lightly. "You tell me, you were supposed to help me today."

"I was?" He tilts his head slightly, mulling it over, thinking it through carefully. "Oh….I was….Sorry, papa."

"It's alright, it wasn't too busy." He taps his fingers lightly. "What happened, platypus, it's not like you to miss out on assisting me with my duties."

Puriel lets his head drop back against his pillow, pressing his hands to his bare belly, he pushes it in slightly. "He said I was a cow."

"Someone made fun of my little tickle tummy?"

He giggles softly at the teasing and silly pet name, Abe always knows what to say to make him feel better, even if it's silly. "He said my tummy was big and blubbery. Big like a cow's."

"Nonsense." He giggles as his mentor leans over, climbing up over the end of his bed, crawling up over his legs, he settles down, reaching out to pull his hands away. "It's adorable and tickly, the best kind of tummy to have, nothing better." He sets his hands on the bed, just a bit a way's out, and presses them down firmly. "Those stay there, or I call Nis, and tell him you need lots of extra love." He giggles harder at the thought of it, having to go through both of them one right after another, and possibly together, when they gang up on him is the worst, they can be so mean to him, but he loves them with all his heart, just as much as they love him.

He giggles when his mentor pinches the roll over his lower belly together. "Tummy, did that mean bully hurt your feelings?" Abraxos turns, pressing his ear to his belly, and nods, as though he's being spoken to. "They did, tummy, that's not good. Do you want me to cheer you up again?" He nods again. "Oh, my little tummy, I'd be happy to." The older Power pulls away from his belly for a moment, smacks his lips lightly, and bends back down.

The youth squeals when he begins to nibble on the little roll in his fingers, drilling his heels into the bed under him, he curls his fingers into the blanket, he doesn't want to move them, he loves playing with both of his big brothers, but they're mean when they get together, it's a fun kind of mean though, so he doesn't usually mind. He shakes his head feverishly, kicking his legs, tugging at the blanket, as he nibbles on and on and on. "Aahahahahahahahhaa! Paahahahahhahaapppaahahahahahahahaa! Ieieieieieahahahahahahahaa nohohohoho! Stohohohhohoop!"

His mentor is a big tickle monster, he gets him nearly every day, he says its to make sure he doesn't forget to smile, even when those big jerks start saying mean things to him. Abe gets Tus too, because he thinks he's amusing, so small and yet so mighty, there's a number of individual's down on the training field who have grown quite fearful of the youngest Elect after he'd heard them saying nasty things to his big brother.

Abraxos pulls away from his belly, letting go of the small belly roll, he rests on his elbows, wiggling his fingers over the top sides of his belly, and the youth shrieks softly, bubbly laughter flowing from him freely. "I can't stop, platypus, your tummy asked me to help cheer it up, and I would be no better then your bullies if I didn't do as I was asked." He circles his fingers around. "I can't have my tickle tummy feeling bad, that's just not right, it needs lots of tickles, now more than ever."

"Ihihihihihit dohohhohoesn't! Ihihihihiit's hahahahahaapppyyyyy! Aahahahahhahaha paahahahhahaappaahahahahaha!"

"Not yet, it's not." He wiggles his fingers down to his lower belly, and begins poking around lightly, Puriel giggles brightly squirming side to side slightly. "But papa's going to make it nice and happy again, don't you worry."

"Papa! Nohoho!"

"Oh, papa yes." The older angel wiggles his index fingers on either side of his belly button and the youth shrieks softly, arching his back, kicking his legs lightly. "Papa's going to give his tickle tummy a lot of love, all the tickles, all of them." He circles his left index finger around his belly button. "Where's it going to go?"

The young Elect giggles harder, not so much at the feeling of him circling his finger around over his belly, but more so at what he knows is going to come. "Papa! Nohoho!"


	379. Spending Energy

"Micha, it's been some time since we last saw you here, how's retirement been treating you?" Nisroc clasps the Archangel's arm, pulling him into a slight hug, Michael chuckles, withdrawing once the hug comes to a close. "He's been playing in the flowers!" They both turn to look at the youthful voice, Adonai waves up at the Power, grinning cheekily, Iaoth snorts and elbows his brother in the side, the other elbows him back, and they both exchange a quick smile. Michael shakes his head at the two of them, they were more trouble then they were worth, but he cared for them both deeply, he wouldn't trade the pair of them for anything.

He turns back to his Captain (once his, always his, retirement or not) and gestures to the two youths. "As you can hear, I've taken up gardening, Joshua is a rather skilled teacher."

Nisroc smiles. "I thought he may be, he's always been rather skilled when it comes to his plants."

"That he is." Michael gestures to the boys once more. "I was hoping you might be up to the task of spending excess energy."

"Sir?" Old habits die hard.

The archangel nods. "I was wondering if you'd be up to a bit of sparring, I realize how busy you must be, I hope I'm not imposing."

"Hey, the chance to wipe the floor with these two?" The Commander turns to look at the two young miracle workers. "I can make time for that."

"You wish gramps!"

"We could take you blindfolded!"

Nisroc smiles down at them, he's never one to underestimate his opponents, but even he's fallible, to think that someone as simple as a miracle worker could take him on. "I've been training longer then you've been alive, I think that's a bit presumptuous."

"You know what," let it not be said being underestimated didn't make Iaoth's blood boil. "We accept that challenge." Abonai nods in agreement.

"I think I'll want to witness this skirmish myself." Michael sounds extremely amused with this whole situation. "Are you going to turn down the challenge made by two younglings."

"No, no, I'll take their challenge." The Powers Captain nods lightly. "I'll take it easy on you two."

Iaoth stalks forward, Adonai laughs softly behind his hand, and the taller boy pokes him in the chest. "Well, we _aren't _taking it easy on _you_." He stomps passed, calling for the other to follow him, Adonai laughs softly and darts forward, following his brother to the weapons wrack.

Nisroc turns to watch them, his archangel comes to stand at his side, watching the two of them look through the weapons on the rack. "Why do I feel like I'm missing something?"

Michael pats him on the back lightly. "I think I may get Raphael to come watch this as well."

He turns to look at the older angel. "Why garnering a crowd?"

"I just think it might be quite the spectacle."

Nisroc turns to him completely. "I feel as though there's something you know, that I don't."

"Nothing at all, my dearest boy." The oldest Archangel squeezes his shoulder. "I'm going to get Raphael, don't start without us."


	380. The Art Of Avoidance

He catches him at just the right moment, just as he turns into the doorway of his room, as he walks passed, and he catches him by the arm. "Chayy, can I talk to you?"

The young Returned Elect turns to look up at him, caught unawares, his eyes are wide, but he nods. "Sure, Abe." He steps aside, pulling the boy forward, tugging his arm gently, gesturing for him to come in. "Am I in trouble?" He wrings his fingers together as he turns to look up at him, standing in the middle of the older Power's room. "I don't remember doing anything, but I can't ever be sure."

"No, no," he shakes his head, closing the door behind him, and he turns to face him, resting his hands on his hips lightly, looking down at him carefully. "You've been avoiding me, Chayyliel."

He stares up at him for a moment, then averts his gaze to his fingers. "I have not."

"You have _too_." He steps closer and the boy takes a step back. "I come into the room and you find a reason to leave. My seats next to yours at the table, you've asked to eat in your room for the last week, you don't ask for me to spend time with you, you never come cuddle up with me for naps." He takes another step forward. "You're _avoiding _me."

Chayyliel opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, and closes it again. He's struggling to find the right words.

"What I want to know, is why?"

"Because you don't need me anymore!" The youth looks up at him with wide eyes, curling a hand around his mouth, swallowing thickly.

Abraxos' eyebrows meet in concern and he leans in closer, as though he wasn't sure he'd heard him right, and shakes his head slightly in mystification. "What?"

"You don't need me, Abe!" He throws his hands out, then curls his arms around himself, turning away from the Power. "You have Sab and Raha, who managed to do what you chose for them to do, you have Puri, who was the first to succeed, you have Hama now, your real boy." He turns his back to him. "I'm just the baggage, the one who can't do anything, useless, the broken toy that should be thrown away."

"Chayyliel, where is this coming from?" He's forced around, fingers curled around his upper arm. "Did someone say something?"

"They didn't have to!" He yanks his arm free. "It's just how it is!"

"It most certainly is _not_." He's tugged back around, this time the grip is too firm to break free from, and his head is lifted up. "You're not _useless_, yes, as unfortunate as it is, you can't become a Power anymore, but, _but_," he lifts his head back up when he tries to look away. "That doesn't make you useless. If you want something to do, I'll take to Tus, you rather loved being a guard, I'm sure Thaddy would be glad to take you back."

He stares up at him. "Really?"

"Really, we'll work something out." The Power smiles down at him. "And, you're just as much one of my boys as the rest of them are, you don't have to be able to fulfill some expectation to be a part of my family, I love you regardless."

He blinks. "You do?"

"I _do_. I _love _how cuddly you are when your sick, I _love _how you're always open when I say I want someone to nap with, I _love _that little belly and those armpits and those toes, _oh_, those toes, I could nibble on them _all day_," he squeezes his chin lightly. "I _love _you. I don't need you to fulfill some sort of role, I just need you to be you, the one that I came to love, no one else. Nothing more."

He watches the Power squat slightly, curling his arms under his bottom, and stands, lifting him off his feet. "I think you and I need to have some nice quality time together."

He smiles, his woes forgotten, reassured by the one he loved the most. "What are we gonna do, papa?"

Abraxos smiles up at him. "I _especially _love it when you call me _'papa'_." He steps forward, towards his bed, carrying him across the room. "I can think of a few things."

Chayyliel shrieks as he tumbles back on the bed, the Power following after him in turn, crawling up over top of him, he reaches up, to brace against him, and he intertwines the fingers of their right hands, lifting his arm up above his head as he settles over top of him. "Pahapa!"

"Just a few things." He dips a finger under the hem of his sleeve, wiggling it lightly into his armpit, and Chayyliel giggles brightly, he savors in his giggles, he lives for them, _especially_ his, he needs as many giggles as he can get, he needs them all. "A few itty-bitty things."

"Pahapa! Nohoho!"

He leans over, their fingers still intertwined, arms still raised above their heads, and he presses his forehead to his youngest Elect's, looking into his eyes as seriously as he can. "I _love _you, Chayyliel. I _love _you, with _all_ my heart, just as much as I love the others. This concerns me, Chayyliel, these thoughts your having, the way you're thinking of yourself, this concerns me deeply." The youthful eyes stare back into his. "I want you to talk to me, Chayyliel, that's what I'm here for. I'm still your mentor. I'm still your papa. I want you to talk to me. If you're feeling this way, I want you to talk to me, alright, don't avoid me, I want to help, I want to reassure you, I want you to talk to me, can you promise me you'll talk to me?"

The young Elect nods lightly. "I'll talk to you, papa."

"Do you promise?"

Chayyliel nods lightly. "I promise."

"Good, thank you, thank you, Chayy, little baby chameleon, thank you." He lets go of his hand, bracing himself above him, his hands resting on either side of his head, he pushes himself up. "Grab on." Chayyliel smiles, leaning forward to curl his arms around the Power's neck, pressing their cheeks together, he feels the elder smile too, curling his left arm around his waist, he turns them over, and he falls to lay against his chest, his head resting in the crook of his shoulder, forehead rubbing against the side of his neck. "We're going to take a nice long nap, you and me, chameleon, we're going to spend some one on one quality time together."

"Just us?" Chayyliel picks at the Power's tunic collar. "What about the others?"

Abraxos rubs at his back soothingly. "I'm sure Hama would be happy to stay with Thaddy for a week. The others can take care of themselves." He squeezes him for a moment. "You need me more, and I'll be there, every step."


	381. The First Of Many Pox

"Azbogah, not so fast, come back here, for a moment." The guard's shoulders tense for a moment, and he slinks back around, to face his Warden, hands planted on his hips, eyebrow raised, and he smiles at him sheepishly. "Come over here, Az, I can't see you all the way over there."

He shuffles closer, and the older angel hums, as he draws closer and closer, coming into eyesight. Fingers curl around his chin lightly, turning his head one way, then the other, eyes looking him over critically. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel fine."

"Mhmm, I've known you long enough to learn your signs, you're lying to me." Thaddeus straightens his head again, their eyes meeting. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not!"

"You, of all people, know what I do to liars." He tilts his head slightly, he doesn't think he means it, but sometimes Thaddeus can be sort of intimidating. "I'll be kind though, because I already know the answer to my question, but I want to hear you say it, so I'll ask again, how are you feeling?"

Azbogah stares up at him and lets go of a big breath. "Well, I mean, I guess I don't feel so good."

"You _guess_, huh?" Now he sounds amused. "I'd say from the looks of things, you're about three days in, feeling a bit itchy?"

As though by some unseen force, he does feel itchy, he's felt itchy all day, since Monday, he'd been able to ignore it, for the most part, only with a bit of scratching here and there, but since he said it, since he verbally mentioned it, he _does_ feel itchy. He reaches around to scratch at his belly. "I feel a _little_ itchy."

"A _little _itchy, huh, just a _little_?" He yelps when the older angel smacks his hand away. "Don't scratch."

"But it itches!"

"I thought you said it was only a _little _itchy?"

He can't help it, he whines softly, leaning forward. "It itches a _lot."_

"I thought so." Thaddeus lifts his hand, letting go of his chin, nodding down to the back of his hand, and he looks, spotting the little red spots on his otherwise blemish free skin. "You see these, right here, you see those little red spots?" He nods lightly. "Those are pox, you've got the chickenpox, highly contagious, especially in the first week, this is why I'm always telling you all, if you feel sick, to stay in bed until you feel better."

"Should I go back?"

"No," he shakes his head. "You'll stay here, I'll have someone alert Tus on the situation, I've already had the chickenpox, I won't get them again, and there's no telling how many others could come down with it if I were to send you back, all those you'll pass on your way." He lets go of his hand, guiding him around by the shoulder. "Come on, we'll get you taken care of, I know just the thing for itchy pox." Azbogah nods, leaning into his side, as they walk down the hall towards the stairs. "Where have you been this week?"

"I was in the minors block."

"Very good," the Warden brings them to a pause, turning to the guard standing there, and they look up at the knowledge they are being addressed. "The minors block is to be placed under quarantine, the only ones allowed to care for them are ones who have already had the pox, those who have been exposed and have not had them will take the empty cells. Monitor them closely, I want to be informed on everything, understand?" The guard nods, darting off to do as he had ordered, and Thaddeus guides him forward once more, rubbing his back soothingly. "We'll get you into a nice warm oatmeal bath and you can soak for a while, that'll help with the itchiness."

"It will?"

Thaddeus smiles down at him. "It sure will."

He smiles, taking the first stair up when the older angel pats his back and gestures for him to do so, and he hears him step up behind him. He guides him around into his room, over to sit on the edge of his bed, Azbogah looks up at him. "You rest here for a few minutes while I go grab the tub." He nods, and the Warden pats his cheek, he watches him turn away, disappearing around the edge of the doorframe. He's gone for only a few minutes, and returns with a large tub in his arms, he watches him set it in the middle of the room, then as he returns to close the door, as he fills a few buckets full of warm water and pours them into the tub, he stirs in a good amount of oats, and turns back to him. "Alright, you little armadillo, strip on down and climb in, soak for a while, you'll notice the itchiness start to fade."

"Okay, Thaddy." Azbogah rises from the side of the bed and begins stripping, pulling his vest off, then his tunic, reaching down to untie his boots and kick them off, pulling his socks off, shimmying out of his trousers.

Thaddeus smiles at him, eyeing the litter of pox painted on his skin. "Good boy, now climb in, you'll feel better, I promise."

The guard smiles, he sure hopes so, he's _really _itchy. He leans over, curling his fingers around the edge of the tub, and climbs in, settling himself down in the thick oaty warm water, he sighs, lowering himself completely, resting his head back against the edge, it's so soothing, the warmth, it's like it cancels out the itchiness, nulls and voids it, it's such a relief.

Fingers scratch through his curls. "Told you it would help." He looks up, Thaddeus smiles down at him, scratching lightly at his head. "You soak here, and I'll go get you a ham and cheese sandwich for supper."

"Okay, Thaddy."

"Do you want the bread toasted?"

"Yes, please."

"Mayonnaise and mustard?"

"Mhmm."

"Alright," he scratches firmly for a moment. "I'll go get your supper, you just relax here and soak."

"Thanks, Thaddy."

"Anytime, armadillo," he scratches head one last time and his hand pulls away, he misses it, Thaddeus chuckles, did he audibly whine? "You did, armadillo, I'll scratch your head when I get back."

Azbogah smiles up at him. "You're the best, Thaddy."

"You're not so bad yourself, armadillo."


	382. The Good Old Fashioned Fun

He smiles as the boy giggles, hanging over his shoulder, he meant what he said, its just the two of them, for the next couple of days, all the cuddles and all the tickles, because he knows just how much the boy likes the both of them. He's grown some, he's no longer that small spry little thing, but he's still just as light as he'd been those some odd years ago and he's only grown a few inches. "Are you ready?"

The boy giggles harder, and he feels fingers curl into the back of his tunic, tugging lightly. "We've got so much time to make up for." He reaches out to push the door to his room open, stepping inside, he turns to close it behind him, smacking the boy's bottom lightly, after a nice nap, the sting from his reprimanding has faded, and he's in a much better mood. "I can't wait to get my fingers on all those really special spots, I remember them all, I never forget."

"Thahhahahhahaaddyyyyy!"

He kicks his boots off, he'd taken the youth's off downstairs while he was sleeping, they still sit down on his desk, where he'd set them once he'd removed them, they'll be up here the next few days, he won't need them.

"I'm going to start at my favorite little special spot and work my way from there."

He reaches into his wardrobe for his whip, this is their thing, their special thing, it would always be their special thing, always. He tosses his whip down on the bed and sits on the end, pulling the boy down from his shoulder, he settles him at his side, leaning over his lower back to keep him in place, he feels him try to scoot up, and he curls his arm down under him, to keep him from getting away. "This is my favorite little special spot; it gets the best laughter out of you." He reaches out for that special little spot, curling a finger in the inner undercurve of his left cheek, and digs in lightly. The boy screeches, lifting himself up, kicking out with his legs, and he feels him tugging himself forward, so he tightens his grip.

"EIEIEIEAIIAAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAAAAAAAAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA THAHAHAHAHHAHAHAADDYYYYYY NOHHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEREEEE! EEIEIIAIAIAIAIAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA! PLEHEHEHEHEHEEEASEEEIEIEIIEAIIAAIAAAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA! GEHEHEHEHEHHEHEET IHIHIHIHIHIHIIT OHOHOHOHOHOUT EEIEIIEIEIEIAIIAIAIAIAAAAHAHAHAAAAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!"

"This is a really good spot, isn't it, Zan?"

Thaddeus looks over when he feels the movement, chuckling softly at the boy's reaction, he's pounding his fists against the top of the bed, pressing his face into the blankets as he screeches and squeals. "NOHOHOHOHO NOOOOOHOHOHOHOHOO NOHOHHOHOHOOHO THAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAADDYYYYYY! EIEIEIEIAIAIAIAIAAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAA EIEIIEIEIAIAIAAAAHAAAAAAAAHAHHAAHAHHAHAHAHA PLEHEHEHEHHEHEEEASE! PLEHEHEHEHEHEEIEIEIIEAIIAIAAAHAHAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA PLEHEHEHEHEEASE!"

The Warden looks back around, digging into his favorite spot, humming contemplatively. "Because I'm nice, I'll move on, but you have to call me what you used to call me all the time." The boy pushes himself forward with his feet, trying to move through the older angel's grip. "What was it, Zan, what did you call me, what was I?"

"EEEEIEIIEIAIAIAIAIAAAAAAAAHHAHHHAHAHAHHAHAHA PAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAPPPAAHAHHAHAHAAAAHAHAHHAHAHA! PAPA! PAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHHHAAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAPPAAPPPPAAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!"

"That's right, I was your papa, wasn't I?"

"YEHEHEHEEIEIEIEIIEIEEIEEEAAAAHAHAHAAAAAAHAAHHAHAHAHAHHAHHAASSSSS YEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEEEESSSSS!"

"Am I still your papa?"

"YEHEHEHEHHEHEHHEAAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHA YEHEHEHEHEHHESSSS! YEHEHEHEHHEHES PAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHHAHAHAPPPAAAAHAAHHAHAAAHHAAAA!"

"Darn right, I am." He lets go of his waist and Zander pushes himself forward, flopping around on his back, as though he won't simply reach under him to get there, but he's a man of his word, he'll leave it for now. "I've always been your papa." He turns with him, crawling up his bed, situating himself over his legs. "Even when I gave you to someone else to raise." The boy giggles up at him, and he passes his whip to hold onto, pushing his arms up above his head. "Do you remember our word, baby bear?"

"Pineapple!"

"Very good!" He leans up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Ready?"

"Do your worst!"


	383. Author's Note

Hi Wonderful Folks,

Due to the unceasingly endless complications and problems I've been having with , I have decided to move over to Archive Of Our Own (AO3) where I will be moving on and posting from here on.

My pen name is the same on there as it is here

Here is a link: /users/Monkeygirl77

Come and join me friends! If you want, that is, don't want to force you to come if you don't want to!

will become an archive of mine, or a shrine, lol, *Shrugs* whatever happens first.

I plan on rewriting a few of my older stories and will be posting the rewrites on AO3, I will also be cross posting some old fics from here to there too.

Thanks for the unending support and love, I love you all, I hope to see you there!

~Monkeygirl


	384. Moving to AO3, look me up: monkeygirl77

moving on friends, because my chapters arent posting for some reason, its in the title


	385. AO3 updates start at chapter 132

Hi All, its in the title since nothings working lol!


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